Faywood Hot Springs

We've been here at Faywood Hot Springs in southern New Mexico for about a week now.  It's a wonderful place.  We're camped about fifty feet from the showers and a clothing optional set of tubs, and about ten feet from a clubhouse with flush toilets and a sink.  We spent one night, the night of our second wedding anniversary in one of their cabins.  I appreciated being able to spend the night in the same bed (we're in separate beds in the trailer) and having a little more floor space to move around in.  It was also nice not to have to go outside into the cold to get to a toilet in the middle of the night.   This trip has been helpful in teaching me what kinds of conveniences are important to me and which I can let go of.

In/Conveniences

I realize that not having to go out into the cold to get to a toilet in the middle of the night is really important to me.  This was a surprise since I grew up using an outhouse.  But when I was young I didn't have to get up to pee three times a night.  Pulling one's self out of a warm, cozy bed to walk through the cold and then sit on a cold toilet seat--I could do without that.  Occasionally I do the pee-in-a-bottle thing (generally when we're parked in a Walmart and their bathrooms are just too far to walk to in the middle of the night), but I can't quite get a handle on using a pStyle and leaks are unpleasant.   And taking the bottle to the restroom to empty the next day is kind of like doing the walk of shame back in college.  Of course now that I'm older and wiser, I reject the whole idea that there's something shameful about a woman walking back to the dorm after spending the night in someone else's dorm room.  But I'm struggling to rid myself of feelings of embarrassment when I carry a bottle of my urine across a parking lot.

the pStyle

Sleeping apart is another thing I don't like and having more space for sex is something I would really appreciate.  Sharing my bed with the dog is nice and I do that when we're home too, but here, since there's little floor space and no other place to sit inside, the dog and I share the bed space whenever we're inside--when I'm eating breakfast and dinner, when I'm getting dressed, when I'm trying to download pictures from my camera to my computer, and as I type this blog entry.  Like us, he's had to adjust: he knows he needs to jump up on the bed when he comes into the trailer so that he's out of the way (and mostly he's willing to do it).  He's also learned how to drink from his water bowl on the trailer floor with his front feet down on the trailer floor and his back legs still up in the bed. 

The conveniences I miss are ones that could be provided in a different trailer: one with a toilet, a bigger bed, and a bit more floor and counter space.   I'm not missing home much at all, with a few exceptions.  We've had a few chilly and windy days where we were all stuck inside, and I found myself asking whether having adventures was worth the loss of inside space to move around in.  For a few days I was fighting a low-grade migraine in the afternoons and everything irritated me, especially the dog.  While we travel we have to keep a much closer eye on him.  At home, other than when we take him for walks, he pretty much does his own thing and doesn't need supervision.  On the road, though, if we want to be outside the trailer (and generally we do, since the inside space is mostly for sleeping, eating, and dressing), he needs to be watched constantly.

On the other hand, living in a thirteen foot trailer with another person and a dog has some advantages.  I can feed and water the dog and pour myself fresh coffee without getting out of bed.  All my toiletries are here in bed with me, right next to my pillow, and the bag with my dirty clothes is handy at the foot of the bed.  My clothes are in a cabinet right over my bed and I can get dressed while sitting on the bed.  There's less cleaning to do since the trailer is so small, and all those projects that I've being meaning to get to but never quite do have been left at home along with the associated niggling sense of guilt. 

Our Recent Travels

We left Padre Island and headed toward El Paso, Texas where I was scheduled for my infusion.  On the way, we spent two nights in the parking lots of Walmarts, one in Fort Stockton and the other in Kerrville, Texas.  We were stumped about what to do for lodging once we got to the El Paso area.  There is a park not too far away that we considered (Hueco Tanks State Park and Historical Site) but after some deliberation, we decided to splurge on a hotel room for two nights.  The temperature was predicted to be in the low twenties, and after three days of driving and no showers, we were ready for hot running water.  Given that I was going to El Paso for medical treatment, I also wanted the time around the appointment to be as stressless as possible.

 My infusion experiences were fine but I did not like what I saw of El Paso.  The day we arrived, the entire region was enshrouded with a heavy haze of pollution.  The traffic was terrible with lots of aggressive drivers and we had a hard time finding any green space at all where we could walk the dog.  All his walks (and ours) were through the parking lots of hotels, strip malls, and box stores.  There was one tiny area of grass, maybe three by six feet, outside the hotel, and that's where he was forced to do his business.  Our suite was fine (though we were sad to find that the heated pool and hot tub at the hotel were shut down).  The second day and night in the hotel, a person upstairs walked back and forth continuously all afternoon and until the sun came up the next morning.  Periodically heavy things were moved across the floor upstairs and objects were dropped.   I could not come up with any explanation for what could be happening other than the person being on drugs (and possibly making drugs), or mentally ill.  When I actually saw the couple the next morning, my suspicions were confirmed:  the woman could barely stand, couldn't walk without the support of the man with her, her eyes were glazed and out of focus, and she was completely out of it.  I heard her ask the room cleaner for five plastic cups in a slurred voice.  So that was El Paso.

El Paso.  Source: http://www.cnn.com/2014/05/02/opinion/pettit-california-pollution/

After El Paso, we headed for Faywood which was only a few hours away.  On the way we stopped in Deming to get supplies.  Faywood is awesome.  They have a coop with peacocks (including a white one), ducks, geese, and chickens.  Just outside the property boundary, there are cattle, including some with funky long horns.   Within the compound, we've seen roadrunners that come within six feet feet of us, a hawk that spent the night in the tree adjacent to our camp site,  rabbits, quail, and many nearly identical grey cats.

Roadrunner next to our campsite

Four grey cats in pursuit of the roadrunner

The camping area has some small trees and bushes which help to break the wind.  We've had a few cold nights and have used our electric heater every night.  Being able to soak in the the hot tubs whenever we want, day or night, along with access to our heated trailer, make the periods of cold and wind bearable.   We can soak in the nude (there are clothing required tubs, too) under the wide expanse of New Mexico sky.

We'll be here for another month.  Along with the tubs here, there are other things to do nearby.  City of Rocks State Park is less than two miles away.  We hope to make side trips on weekends to the town of Truth or Consequences (one of Budge Travel Magazine's 10 Coolest Small Towns), Elephant Butte Lake State Park, Rockhound State Park, and Gila Cliff Dwellings National Park. 

City of Rocks State Park