Saturday, December 20, 2008

ADVENTURES TO E. BONITA ACRES


The Basics

A friend of mine asked if I would take pictures of a property located in a community named E. Bonita Acres. Technically, the property is in Catron County - Quemado, NM. Realistically, the property is across the NM state line (14 miles away from Springerville, AZ); however, taking a left at the correct mile marker will lead you back into New Mexico...Quemado, NM. It was about 2 1/2 - 3 hour drive to get there.

The Morning

The day started out like any normal day. 12-degrees outside and 85-degrees under two blankets, a comforter, and a sleeping bag. Only the brave creep out of those covers! I patiently awaited and planned my day abroad.

Once it hit 29-degrees, I got out of my warm covers, showered, cooked some eggs, fed my man, packed my bag and hit the road. I was on a mission—to take photos of a house with only a 'lot number' for a name. A house—in a community where you have to cross Arizona state line, just to get back into New Mexico. A house— that can only be found by a map at the entrance of the community...and someone had the nerve to steal the magnifying glass. That is something I would find out later.

The Drive

I was headed toward Quemado from Grants, NM. It was a beautiful drive. The Malpais Forest glistened from the sun's magnificent light. Big boulders towered overhead as if they were ready to fall in a moment’s notice. Some boulders appeared to be dangling as if on a string. I turned off my music so that the audio dare not disturb the visual beauty surrounding me. 80 miles I traveled until I entered the town called Quemado, NM.

The Store

I stopped at the ‘only’ convenience store in Quemado, NM. I was starting to get a little anxious because the directions I had written down were not making sense to me at this point. I picked up a map of New Mexico with the intent to buy it. There were locals (Quemado-ans) in the store talking amongst themselves. I walked up to the counter as I was looking at the map. Since I didn't know "exactly" which way I was going, I decided to ask the young counter clerk for directions. I said, "Excuse me miss, but do you know where E. Bonita Acres is?" The second clerk came around the counter; she appeared to be in her late 30's and had a huge shiner on her left eye! Racing thoughts crossed my mind. It couldn't have been a bar room brawl. There were no bars in that town. There were only lakes, forests, hunters, and Elk. I chose to ignore her injury and stick to business.

They both looked at the map, each other, and then they looked at me. The younger clerk spoke first. "Yeah, I know where that place is." She looked at the clerk with the left black eye and said, "Remember, that's the place I hauled that wood and that man pulled out his rifle on me. Good thing I had "my" pistol in the car or I would have been real scared!" The clerk with the left black eye said, "oh yeah, I remember that. There are some real weird people in them parts! You better be careful out there." The younger clerk went on to give me directions. Apparently, I wasn't too far away from my final destination; however, my slight anxiety turned to fear. I thanked the ladies’ and went along my journey.

E. Bonita Acres

Finally, I crossed the Arizona State line and I took a left at the mile marker given to me in the directions. As sure as the sun rises and the sun sets, I ended up back in New Mexico. I had to drive ten-miles on the worst dirt road I have ever seen. I thanked the good Lord above for my breast reduction back in 1998. I took three lefts on three unmarked dirt roads until I entered ...E. Bonita Acres.

According to my directions, there would be a map of the lots and I would be able to find the property on the map. Bingo! Lucky again…there was a map with all the lots listed at the entrance. To my amazement, if I looked real close I could even make out street names! What's this...a bee buzzing around me? I didn't wear perfume today. "Shoo little bee!" I said, as I waived my arms back and forth. The bee flew away, I assumed because I didn’t see it anymore. After searching for half an hour, my eyes trying to refocus from the tiny print on the map, I found the property I was looking for. “Someone really should leave a magnifying glass out of courtesy!” I thought. I got back in my car - but why am I itching?

Once again I hit harsh terrain and thanked the Lord almighty for my breast reduction. I am still itching and this rrooaadd iiss nnoott ttaakkiinngg mmee ttoo tthhee rriigghhtt ppllaaccee. I ended up on someone's property. Keeping in mind the word "pistol" and "rifle" as said by the young Quemado store clerks, I immediately backed out of the yard and went back to the entrance. This time I noticed that if I got REALLY, REALLY close to the map, two lines meant "main road." I jotted down the directions this time and off I went. I was confident now, but I was still itching and time was of the essence. It was getting late. The sun would be down soon. I needed to find the property and take the pictures.

It didn't take long...but I found the house. With the "pistol/rifle" visualization, I stayed in my vehicle as I photographed the house from various angles. It was beautiful out there. The air was crisp, the sun was setting, and the horse behind me was very curious. He followed me back and forth. Even the neighboring horse took an interest in me. Friendly little beasts they were; whinnying with perky ears, and I am still itching. Why am I itching? Then it dawned on me - the bee.

Goodbye E. Bonita Acres

As the sun set, I wwaass lleeaavviinngg oonn tthhee ssaammee ddiirrtt rrooaadd, thankful that I was able to take the pictures and nobody pulled any "rifles" or "pistols" on me. So, I left New Mexico...again. I got back on the main road in Arizona and headed home to New Mexico. The sun had fully set by this time and I had not gone to the bathroom since I left home. It must have been fear that kept my bodily functions null and void.

Elk-A-Phobia in the Dark

Happily, I drove down the highway. I'm on my way home. No cars around - just me and a SIGN THAT SAID "ELK CROSSING!" Did I happen to mention my "Elk phobia while driving in the dark?" My father used to say, "If you didn't have bad luck, you wouldn't have any luck at all." That's all I need is for an Elk to jump in front of me. That would certainly top off my day! I turned the vehicle lights on the “bright” setting, and I only blinked twice within a 30-mile radius, anxiously, eagerly scanning the road for the infamous Elk.

I’m Back, Can I Buy an Elk Detector Mr. Quemado Cowboy?

Dry-eyed, dilated, itchy with a heavy bladder, I stopped at the same convenience store in Quemado, NM. The same clerks were there along with a variety of locals who were gathered together, talking and laughing. The young clerk remembered me and asked if I found the place I was looking for. I thanked her, said yes, and proceeded to share my "Elk phobia" with her. I asked if they carried an "Elk detector." She gave me a questionable, blank look; so I explained that I was looking for something similar to a radar detector, a fuzz buster - something that can detect Elk that are nearby. I could tell by her expression that she understood what I was talking about, but before she could answer...one of the local men chimed in to our conversation.
He fit the Quemado part to the "tee." 6' +/- tall, thin, cowboy hat, Wrangler jeans, cowboy boots, sheepskin vest, and chewing tobacco - you know, the kind you spit. He towered over me with that "You're a little fish in a big pond" kind of smile and said, "well, little lady...you could buy those whistles that you anchor on to your vehicle. They're supposed to send high pitched signals to the Elk to let them know you're a commin'. I really don't think those things do a darn bit of good, do you?" He asked another male friend. "Nope," was the response and the locals agreed. "Where ya' headed?" the Quemado cowboy asked. "Grants," I said. Laughter filled the air. The Quemado cowboy chuckled as he said, "well you're headed right into the heart of Elk territory. My advice to you - drive slow." I blinked several times, looking straight in to his eyes with a tight, not-so-happy grin, as I sarcastically said, "thank you for your very encouraging words." I used the bathroom; grabbed a lunch-able and left. Onward into outer darkness and Elk country!

On The Road Again…

Notice that in the previous paragraph, I did not purchase a beverage. I did not feel that caffeine would benefit the adrenaline and severe anxiety/panic I would endure on my drive through Elk country. Luckily, my bodily functions ceased. All my energy was focused on the road. I was travelling 45-50 mph without cruise control. No music to disturb me. These Elk are vicious creatures. Both hands clasping the steering wheel, one foot on the accelerator, and no blinking!

The Theory That Saves

By the time I traveled 40-miles, my right eye became irritated from the lack of moisture one needs to keep the retina lubricated. But that's okay. By this time, I had spared the lives of three jackrabbits and one rodent. My theory was that by sparing the lives of these creatures, the Elk would spare mine. So, I kept driving with my irritated right eye and yes, I was still itchy. But the adrenaline kept me going. My eye could water all it wanted - I would not blink (ooo saved another jackrabbit). My neck could itch, but I would not scratch it. I knew the Elk were out there and I was going to be prepared at any cost!! Forty more miles I drove until I saw the blessed Freeway - I40!

By this time, I spared the lives of five jackrabbits, one rodent and one questionable rodent (he was slow in running). I'm almost sure he made it. And not one Elk in sight! I made it home safe and sound!

The Stinger, The Shooting Stars, and My Eye

As it turns out, the bee stung my pull over sweater. His stinger kept scratching at my skin. So now I have a big bruise on my neck area. My right eye is smaller than my left eye because it was irritated. It's much better now. On my way home, I saw two shooting stars with my one good eye. At this point you must be thinking, "She must have been seeing double vision with her one good eye." But no...I saw each single shooting star at two very different locations; and yes, I made a wish both times.
By Deb T. 11/2008

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