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Friday, December 18, 2009 - Fort Stanton Cave Campground, Lincoln NM

Eve Ball roadside marker, Lincoln NM, December 18, 2009
Eve Ball roadside marker, Lincoln NM, December 18, 2009

Today I planned to head up to Valley of Fires Recreation Area, Carrizozo NM. I never made it. I got waylaid by the jaw-dropping beauty of the rolling desert and grasslands along US 380 between Roswell and Carrizozo NM. I stopped to see what this Eve Ball roadside marker was all about and discovered I could camp right here.

With a little Googling (oh, how I do love this modern technology that lets me Google way out here!) I discovered the forest road across from the marker leads into the new Fort Stanton-Snowy River Cave National Conservation Area and up to the Fort Stanton Cave, the third largest cave in New Mexico. And a tiny little 3 site campground just beyond the entrance to the cave. Well, gee, this was just too good to pass up!

New Mexico State Parks News Release (pdf) issued December 17th, 2009

Contrary to a hearsay report I got this morning, the New Mexico State Parks will be closed December 24th which means no camping will be available in the park system the nights of December 23 and 24.

Official Scenic Historical Marker: Eve Ball (1890 - 1984)

EVE BALL (1890 - 1984)

AUTHOR AND PRESERVATIONIST

A pioneer in the preservation of the history of people in southeastern New Mexico, Eve wrote over 150 articles and numerous books chronicling Mescalero and Chiricahua Apaches, Anglo and Hispanic settlers. Her honesty, patience and determination to learn from them, won the confidence of the Apache elders, saving oral histories certain to be lost without her.

Night camp

Primitive Campground at Fort Stanton Cave, Lincoln NM

It was the Crickets

Now then: it isn't so much that one way of dying beats another, though that certainly is the case, but rather that when you KNOW the jig could be up any second or any decade -- it's the awareness that's important -- that just might make a difference. I'm like everybody else, I have these moments and then forget, lapsing back into "immortality." But there was a thing that happened in my back yard maybe 18 months before we split from Maryland that hit me as hard as seeing their president drop dead on stage must have hit those graduating seniors.

It was the crickets. I'd gone outside one warm fall evening to shut the garage door and suddenly realized I couldn't hear the crickets! No wait, I could, but only if I turned my head a certain way. Oh God, oh no: I had almost no high-frequency hearing in my right ear, or was it my left? That doesn't matter. The point is, a part of me had shut down permanently. No, it hadn't happened suddenly, but I had finally noticed, and that was hard to take. I'd never again hear crickets like I once had. Never! I walked back to the house in tears. All right, I'm sensitive. But I understood at once what all this meant.

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