Andrew Liang

Thirteen years ago, in an era of flip-phones, iPods, Camel Lights, Natibos, and Map Quest, John, Mike, Steve, Sean, Jeff, Wheatie, and I set out on a journey to attend a wedding in Truth or Consequences, New Mexico. We flew to El Paso, Texas, and then rented a van to drive to TOC. We embarked a week prior to the wedding in order to explore the landscape of southern New Mexico. The photographs here serve as a time-traveling portal, enabling me to relive our adventure.

The anticipation, preparation and embarkation can be the climax of a journey. The uncertainty during this phase boiled the soul, releasing surges of emotions steaming out of the pores, misting each of our aura with an electrifying glow of adventure.

El Paso was hot and dry, the polar opposite of Baltimore where we came from. By the time we received our “all-inclusively insured” mini-van rental the day had gone and the temperature had dropped significantly. We drove North towards the nearest city on the map, Las Cruces, seeking food and alcohol.

We pulled over to the side of the highway for a pee break only to find ourselves enveloped by the darkness intensely and occasionally contrasted by the high beams of the passing cars. The fear of being illuminated in mid-urinating was abruptly replaced by the sheer awe at the sight above us. None of us had ever seen the night sky adorned by billions of stars without the aid of a telescope, IMAX projection, or TV screen. We hung out by our urine, heads tilted high, enchanted by the scenery, smoking, identifying and marveling.

The waiting area of the restaurant at Las Cruces had a collection of live exotic tropical birds in cages. They were interesting for the duration we waited for our table. Worried, I skipped the avian part of the menu. After dinner we checked ourselves in at a Holiday Inn and inquired the nearest alcohol establishments, only to be told by the concierge who appeared to be in his 70’s: “There is no joy in Denming, you may try your luck at Wally World”.

We followed his direction and learned that Wally World he referred to was Walmart.

The light in Southern New Mexico made everything seemed over saturated. The dryness in the atmosphere could be the reason behind this visual phenomenon. It seemed as thought rain had been absent for a long time, maybe even indefinitely. Any hint of moisture would swiftly be siphoned up by the parched rocks and dirt.

In the middle of the expansive landscape, mounds of rocks protruded randomly from the ground. We veered off the main road towards a large mound of rock, which stirred up a sizeable dust cloud trailing behind our vehicle. As we ascended towards the mound’s peak, a breathtaking panoramic view of the vast, arid, and otherworldly landscape unfolded before us.

In the midst of arid rocks and cacti, a debilitated wooden shack crowded by piles of Geo rocks stood lonesome. Mike fell under the enchantment of the Geo and lead the group into the shack where endless hordes of rocks compete for an opportunity to be lifted out of their pen. Being a rock collector, Mike carefully examined each geological specimen, providing every rock with an opportunity to be showcased alongside other Earthly minerals on the shelf in his room. The “talent show” was taking too long so the rest of us decided to explore the surroundings.

We headed North towards Gila National Forest, our goal was to spend a night camping in the mountain. We stopped by Silver City on route for a supply run. Michael picked up a rack of ribs and the rest of us bought chips, beer, and cigarettes.

The temperature rapidly declined as the sun disappeared behind the mountain. The walk-in sites were readily available as there seemed to be no other campers around. As soon as we settled in, most of us went on fire wood excursions in groups. We absorbed a neatly stacked firewood in the camp site adjacent to ours, as well as any visible fallen wood we could find and drag them back to camp. Our camp fire raged on all night as we huddle around it for warmth, however many alcohol and ribs we had consumed, we just couldn’t be warm enough. We thought crawling into our sleeping bags would help ease our trembling bodies and calm our chattering teeth. I was wrong. The ground-cold penetrated through my sleeping bag sending waves of chill through my back and radiated through out my body. Throughout the entire night, we endured the relentless freezing assault, all the while accompanied by the background music of Sean Honey’s snoring. Surprisingly, Sean was unaffected by the cold, he was shielded by Wheatie dad’s down-filled sleeping bag.

We stumbled upon a diner in the morning, indeed it was a boost of morale after enduring the freezing night. As we took turns refreshing ourselves in the restroom, it was Sean’s laughter that reminded us that we were on vacation.

We learned that sleeping mat was an essential camping item, especially in the cold weather and never lend out dad’s gear because they are tried and tested.