Why is it that leaving town presents so many challenges? Last year David had a severe reaction to an antibiotic and we delayed our departure to make sure he'd be ok. This year we found ourselves torn as we prepared to take off from Chicago. Carrie, 4 months pregnant (woohoo!!) had a raging sinus infection that had crippled her winter break. Already conflicted about being gone for such a large chunk of the gestation of our first grandchild, we re-convinced ourselves that Skype, regular phone calls, and a February visit from the kids would make our absence acceptable. As for Carrie's wellbeing, we knew that she was in good hands with her trusted OB, the ever-loving and ever-patient Chris, and "nurse Weldon", their cuddlicious dog. OK. We could leave.
And then several very very dear friends were diagnosed with critical medical conditions: one with lymphoma, one with heart disease requiring triple bypass and a valve replacement, and another with an aortic aneurysm requiring surgical repair. All treatments would unfold in January...and we'd be almost 2000 miles away. We felt that we were abandoning everyone who had always been there for us.
A difficult departure? We were scaling a mountain before we even left the midwest. Our hearts ache with those who have so much to deal with in the coming weeks and months.
On D-Day we awoke to 8 inches of newly fallen snow to remind us why we decided to 'get out of Dodge' in the first place. Once again, Michael packed the car with the precision of a puzzle maker. Every spare inch of space was filled, despite the fact that we had vowed to bring less "stuff" this year. One of us has a greater desire to anticipate every eventuality; the other is content to just go shopping and get what we need. I'll let you figure out who's who. Off we slogged toward the great West.
Who was it who spoke about never being able to step into the same river twice? Whoever it was had it right. This year's cross-country drive had more of a 'been-there, done-that' quality to it. We were eager to just be there. The road trip left us weary. Frankly, we were exhausted before we started. We felt concerned about having committed to a 3-month absence; it had taken Michael an inordinate amount of psychic and physical energy to pull together his paperwork, tax prep documents, organize his Board activities for his various charitable involvements, prep the house for an extended winter absence, etc. Our day-after-Christmas departure had me scrambling to prioritize holiday celebration and packing responsibilities, all the while fighting a respiratory virus that had hung on tenaciously since Halloween. The road trip did not relax us one bit. Unspoken tension provided the backbeat to our journey.
And then...fate stepped in. As we crossed into New Mexico on day 3, we stopped in at the Visitor Information Center. I browsed the brochures and grabbed a few for road entertainment (I'm the eternal passenger on these trips. That's our dynamic; like it or not. I load the front seat with every manner of personal entertainment.) Paging through one of the pamphlets, I came across information about mineral hot springs in Truth or Consequences, New Mexico. Googling some information on my iPhone, I discovered that there were a number of funky little 'spa resorts' tucked away in what had looked like a ghost town to us when we paused for a photo op there last year. We decided that we would be flexible (for those who know us well, this is unheard of!) and see if we could book a room for our last night on the road. This would require adjusting the tail end of our travel schedule, but we agreed that it was absolutely do-able.
Through the miracle of iPhone technology and some really good karma, we were able to book ourselves into the Blackstone Hotsprings Lodging and Baths for that same evening. The website promised geothermal mineral baths in each lodging room and incredible bedding. What more could we ask for? We were prepared to soak away our road weariness.
Driving down Austin Rd in Truth or Consequences, we were sure we had the address wrong. Where was the spa in this blah residential neighborhood of scruffy-looking ranch houses. We turned into a tiny gravel parking strip edged by corrugated aluminum fencing. Our hearts sank. Michael was prepared to drive on, but I insisted we at least check it out. We parked and got out of the car. Sitting in 2 motel chairs on the gravel were a man and wife, reading novels in the patch of sunlight they had found. They looked normal; well-dressed, reading, smiling, relaxed. It was a good omen. They directed us to the office.
When we turned the corner we discovered a beautifully restored 1930s motor court. The courtyard was inviting and cozy, filled with flowering plants. A giant, life-sized metal coco palm sculpture stood in the center of the court. Funky! It was ringed by 7 motel rooms, each door of which was painted a different color and flanked by cute metal motel chairs. The office girl showed us to our room, The Golden Girls Suite. Since Truth or Consequences itself is named after a TV show, the owners who renovated the motel named each suite or room after a TV show. There's the Jetsons Suite, The Twilight Zone, As the World Turns, and others.
Our suite could not have been cuter! The king-sized bed was new and, as promised, incredibly comfy. The large flat-screen TV on the wall swiveled in several directions. Every other bit of the suite was filled with fabulous vintage furnishings and accessories, including an adorable kitchen with melamine dishes and groovy cocktail stirrers, and a cozy sitting area, an adjacent patio with table and chairs, and the wonderful hotsprings bathroom with giant soaking tub. Black and white photos of Rue McClanahan and Betty White adorned the walls, and a vintage Truth or Consequences board game graced a little side table. With an eye for detail and authenticity, the two guys who had renovated the motel had created a hidden gem. It was just what we needed!
We settled in and signed up to use the "wet room", what the brochure described as "a large soaking pool with steps, ledges and benches so you can be in whatever depth of hotspring water you prefer. There is also a geothermal steam room, with thin sheets of water trickling down each wall, and a drenching waterfall that massages your back, neck and shoulders..." Because it was our anniversary month (40 years on Dec. 19!!) we got to waive the $25 fee for use of this special feature. Private and delicious, this room offered us the ability to immediately unwind, and we floated back to our room in the fluffy white robes they provided. We were wishing someone would deliver dinner.
The tub in our room had a valve that hooked it up to the underground hotsprings. It was deep, accommodating, and filled surprisingly quickly, hot water gushing over an assemblage of rocks built into the corner. Ahhhh. I feel my shoulders relax just describing it! Several soaks in our in-room tub that evening and the following morning left us relaxed, renewed, and ready for our Tucson adventure. It was really the perfect end to our cross-country drive.
I've been told that I should resist the urge to moralize at the end of each piece that I write. (Can I undo all of those years of teaching the 8th grade essay? Dunno) I guess, though, that I'm reminded of the value of flexibility and the need to keep an open mind. So glad we found this little oasis in the desert. See, you can teach 2 old dogs new tricks. Arf arf.
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