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I had to get a new military ID card, and White Sands Missile Range is the closest installation, so off I went. It’s a dry, dusty and very flat place with widely spaced buildings, most of which are surrounded by tall fences and razor wire. Apparently, the Army has difficulty keeping its soldiers where they belong. I wanted to take pictures of these brutalist buildings, but they threatened to shoot me if I did. The post bills itself as the “Birthplace of America’s Space Program.” I suppose it is, courtesy of Nazi Werner von Braun.

I’m spending a few days at Aguirre Springs Campground on the eastern slope of the Organ Mountains. The mountain peaks form a backdrop to the west and, to the east, the Tularosa Basin houses the missile range, White Sands National Monument and Holloman AFB. I avoid campgrounds when I can, but I admit that this one is pretty nice. The campsites are spread far enough away I can almost imagine that I’m alone. Xena loves climbing the trees and exploring the rock piles.

I think the designers of this campground and its environs were amateurs. The sculpting of the mountain peaks seem a little overwrought to me, with the slick rock faces and pointy peaks. Just doesn’t mimic nature very well. Moreover, the landscaping has no coherent design schema that I could discern. Just plants stuck in the ground willy-nilly Finally, the nature soundscape is far too loud (not to mention repetitive); they need to turn the bird sounds down.

Xena, the Warrior Princess, is an excellent tree climber. She was right on the heels of a Texas squirrel in San Antonio. Until she ran out of string.

A programming note: I’ll be back in Oakland the first week of April.

On the recommendation of friends, I examined the tiny village of Marfa, Texas. This plucky place houses artists specializing in psychedelics and makers of soap. It is a great place, and, if you’re ever miles from nowhere, stop in.

The real gem is a place to stay, but I don’t have a word for it, They call themselves El Cosmico. You can camp there in your own tent, sleep in your vehicle (like I did), or rent a yurt or tipi or vintage travel trailer. They have wood-fired hot tubs! And an interesting gift shop with Wi-Fi. I met a Canadian there who had a husky named Sitka. Sitka and Zena, the Warrior Princess cat, had a great time staring at each other.

If that weren’t enough, there is an architectural treasure known as the Hotel Paisano. Beautiful 1930s architecture, built around a central courtyard with a fountain, artisanal details everywhere. It was designed by the nearly-great architect Henry Trost.  Go and stay for a long weekend. It won’t quite be worth the trip, but you’ll have a fine story to tell upon your return to civilization.

I’ve discovered there is a thing called “Buc-Ee’s.” They are established on the roadside of major thoroughfares are serve the needs of the traveling public. Their mascot is a cast bronze beaver for some reason, as you can see below.

These retail outlets are an amazing combination of a Target, deli, truck stop and grocery store.

A Note to the Reader: After writing and proofreading this entry, I found that it is mostly a letter to myself. I will find no offense if you pass it by for more interesting matter.

Did you know the “alma mater” can be translated as “nourishing mother?” I was told it could be and so chose to believe it. Since I was in the neighborhood, I visited my alma mater, Louisiana Tech. Interesting how, nearly 40 years later, so much remains the same and so much has changed.

See the flagpole at the top of the driveway? Air Force cadets are responsible for hoisting the flag every weekday and retiring the flag at the end of the day, accompanied by the appropriate music. It has always been thus at Louisiana Tech and remains so to this day.

People don’t often think of Louisiana as cold and I suppose it isn’t, really. But when I was up at 0630 on a blustery 30-degree day in a thin blue uniform, I thought it was really cold. The flag detail marched across the quadrangle early each morning from the white tower in the background, the freshman and sophomores carrying and escorting the flag, with a cadet officer, a junior or senior, marching along to supervise. In the afternoon, the reverse would occur. I don’t remember a single instance when this failed to occur.

The University installed a walkway with every graduate’s name inscribed in a brick, so current students can tread on their predecessors. I found both of my bricks (BS ‘83, MS ‘84).

Many of the buildings have not changed in the nearly 40 years since I left.

I had a great chat with the Professor of Aerospace Studies (that’s the title of the guy in charge of ROTC). It turns out that he recently transferred to Space Force. We had an interesting conversation (I thought, anyway), about the impact of the creation of this new service and the ripple effects from that decision. He was very gracious with his time and showed me the framed displays for each year of Air Force graduates as far back as they could go. I reviewed my year; it was a jolt to see names I had long ago forgotten.

Passed through easternmost Texas, which is covered with petrochemical plants, mile after mile. The Cajuns of Louisiana are fond of building structures on stilts! They do this so they can sleep unmolested by the gators and snakes that live in this area.

On Avery Island, Louisianians make a type of flavored vinegar called “Tabasco Sauce.” I thought it interesting from a geological perspective, as it is built on a salt dome, from which they mine the salt used in the manufacture of the sauce.

The marketing approaches used throughout the history of the company is fascinating…check out these examples.

Spent the night on top of the levee holding back the Mississippi River. A local old man farmer came by in a pickup to check me out and photograph my license plate. He said that was in case anything came up missing. I laughed at told him I didn’t have room for all my own stuff and certainly had no room for any of his! We conversed further, he gave his permission for me to stay the night and advised me to take care of myself, because some bad people wander these levees. I did not volunteer the info that I’m from Oakland. I was glad to have some sort of local connection, having gone to college at Louisiana Tech.

To the south of Houston, Texas, lies the storied Johnson Space Flight Center (its new name omits the “Flight,” but I prefer the archaic name). From here, NASA directed the training of astronauts and the conduct of mission from Mercury through the International Space Station and now to new missions like Orion and who knows what else.

The visitor center is aimed at school-age people, mildly interesting, but well-done for that audience. I liked the displays of the costumes astronauts wore.

Of greater interest to me was the tour of the Apollo Mission Control Center, painstakingly restored its appearance in 1969 for the first moon landing…even down to the color of the carpets and the upholstery on the galley reserved for astronauts’ family members.

All in all, a good day invested. Especially when I ended the day on my own private beach.