4/27/05

Awoke: Pie Town, NM
Speedo: 63, 867
Miles: 463

I am shivering when I wake up. I realize immediately how cold I am then wonder what time it is. I move to turn my phone on. Stuff is falling off of me. I am freezing. It’s frost. There is frost all over my hair and lips and eyelashes. It is below freezing. I know just because it is so cold. Must be in the twenties with chill considered. I find my phone, turn it on. It’s three in the morning. I want more blankets I have some in my car. I want to put the covers on the tent. I want to be warm again.

My body is still shaking from the frost. Some parts of the blanket are wet and cold. I am sleeping in cold blankets with frost on my face. Fuck. It was so hot today. I didn’t realize how far up I’d gone and forgot how cold it gets in these mountains at night. I unzip my tent just enough to get out and get more blankets and get the tent covers, but then I hear rustling all around and I don’t know what the fuck it is. I’m scared. I hear howling after that and I hear movement all around my tent. It must be wild dogs or coyotes howling and circling my tent and here I am unzipping it. I am scared shitless. It is still black out and all I know is that it is cold and there are animals running around me and howling. I cannot get out and I’m too scared to move any more. I soundlessly turn the blankets over to their dryer sides. I turn the pillow over. Put the phone in my pocket. And try not to think about the wetness or the cold and how I’m shivering. I’m stuck this way until the sun comes up and right now I can’t see anything. After hearing circling dogs howling around where I’ve been sleeping for the past five hours, there is no way I can fall back asleep.

I lay there until the sun starts to break through around five am. I have to piss and shit, and have been holding it lying down since I woke up at three. I unzip a window and look for a long time all around me and it looks OK. I unzip the door and look out and then I see paw prints and animal shit all around the tent. I wonder why those fuckers didn’t try to get closer, and I’m thankful they didn’t. I can’t believe I’m seeing these tracks and shit so close to where I was all night.

Oh my god, there is seriously a fucking outhouse. I see it beyond some trees. I want to piss and shit I’ve been holding it forever. I go to my car and get toilet paper then run to the outhouse and torrentially pee and poo. I haven’t shot come in three days and I really want to but I’m still shaken up by the animals and the frost and cold and outhouse. I just want to get the fuck out of Pie Town. I roll up my tent and put it in the back seat and look around for the smallest instant and then I go. Again, I can’t believe I slept here.

Now I’m confronted with last night’s quandary. I have a quarter tank of gas and I have to drive to Dital and see if there’s anything there. I pull out and see the destitution around me. I can’t believe I slept here. I get the fuck out of this shitty town. Pie Town.

I haven’t washed my face or brushed my teeth. I want to. I feel gross. I haven’t showered or came or eaten anything hot or cold for three days now. I think about what I’ve done up to now. I can do this, I am doing this and I like how I feel and being alone and what I’m thinking about. I can feel myself learning. Then I realize I’m in New Mexico, where I wanted to be. I love it here. Despite these shitty towns with all the old cars and random trash, I love how it feels here. I feel it. I slept on the earth here. This state feels magnetic and cosmic. There is something unearthly about New Mexico. I’m driving to Dital and I start talking out loud. I tell them to come ride with me through this wonderful state we’ll make a fire. I’ve already hallucinated today. I saw a boy running through the trees when I opened the tent. No one comes. I think about what I want in the world. I want to sing and take my pictures and I think about the home I’ll one day share and the children I’ll have. I know I’ll cry today. I cried yesterday. I sit in my car and listen to songs about love and they make me cry because I want it and don’t have it. I feel bad for the land and I feel like part of it. Razed, leveled, and dug into. The inclusion makes me feel wanted and I cry because I am thankful. I am thankful and scared of what’s ahead and lonely and brave and for all of these reasons I cry.

I am in Dital. And there is a gas station. One gas station, with old-fashioned pumps. I pull up, pop open the tank, flip the hook, and fill up. It feels good to have a full tank of gas. I’ve learned two things from New Mexico so far: it gets fucking cold at night, so cover your tent and always fill up when you see a gas station because it could be miles miles miles before you see one again. Filling up feels revitalizing. There is no one else outside, but there are people inside. My car’s CD player came on when I cranked up and now “I can’t see New York” is playing, the twelfth song on the album from last night. I am having a fucking moment.

A moment you know you’ll remember forever. And they only happen sometimes, and rarely this completely. I am standing at five-thirty am in Dital, New Mexico filling up my empty tank and this song is playing and the sun is over the mountains. The sky is intense and colorful red orange pink red and it feels cool and dawn-clean and fresh. I am alive and I’ve had a long night and I shit in an outhouse and was circled by wild dogs and now I’m driving and listening to Tori and filling up my depleted tank. I will never forget this. I have recorded everything about this moment, from the rust on the pumps to the colors in the sky. And I will always have this in me until I die.

It takes a few tears when I think about how I’ll die and about the world without me in it. All the revolution and innovation and cultural events I’ll miss. I think about my Mom and how she raised me and loved me and snuggled me when I was a little boy and how I’ve only ever loved one person and that was Brad and now he’s so far away and I just want to be there again. I think about the children I’ll have and how I’d miss them touching their Dad’s hand and I haven’t even had them yet. I think about stupid shit, like all the movies I’ll miss that will be made and all the CDs and live music I’ll never hear. And I look at this amazing sunrise and think about this planet and all the weather and colors and air I’ll miss too. And it defines the fact that I’ve recorded this moment so completely. Thinking of the absence of this makes me feel totally present. It’s still so early in the morning and my breath smells and I’m thinking about morbid things already and crying like a little bitch. I feel like it’s not too late or too far to give up and turn back around and go back to Phoenix and that I could be there tonight. But I know I can’t do that. I’ve already looked at Phoenix for the Last Time and can’t renege a look of that caliber.

I pay for the gas and say thank you. I look at the people who live in rural western central New Mexico. They look poor and run-down and haphazard, just like the towns they live in. They’re nice. I think how scruffy and scraggly I must look and ask if I can use the bathroom to brush my teeth and the lady tells me to take my time, not many people go in there anyway. I go to the car, get my toothbrush and toothpaste, washcloth, face wash, moisturizer, razor, shaving cream, and contacts. I put in my contacts, wash my face, brush my teeth, shave, and moisturize. That’s my morning routine. Then I shit again, and it feels good to shit because this morning is the first time it’s happened since I left.

The bathroom is wooden, like a shed, with plywood. There is a deer head on the wall and the sink is yellowed white and it all looks so old and worn. I haven’t been in here long, and I want to be in here a little longer. I need to come.

I stand over the sink and feel my penis and it’s soft. I know I need this prudent maintenance. I make it hard by playing with it and I rub it and now it’s something I can work with and it doesn’t take long. I shoot a copious amount of semen, three days’ worth, into the sink. I wipe it up and rinse the residue down the drain. I wash my hands, pack up my toiletries, and put them away in my car. I go back in one more time, to look at everything and get my first cup of good, cheap coffee. I put in plenty of cream and a little sugar like always and then go. I feel recharged. After three days, I was long overdue to shit and come and shave. I am going through several emotions an hour. I woke up at three am today worrying about coyotes in the New Mexico mountains. I’ve been sleeping in my car and tent. There are circles under my eyes, and I feel like I’ve already taken a lot of blows. But I asked for this. Give me more.

I want to go in the general direction of Socorro. Another song I listened to a lot was “Pandora” from the Cocteau Twins. It makes me feel like everything passing me by, the sound of the vast West passing, is a dream. I’m still on highway 60 going east to Socorro. For this part of the trip, I remember listening to my favorite album, Tori’s “Boys For Pele”. I pass huge satellites sitting out in the middle of the desert. Everything about New Mexico deals with sky and air phenomena. There are spaceports being built, I pass these satellites, I hear missiles being tested. It feels cosmic and air-bound. My curiosity is up; I feel energy here. “Blood Roses” is playing with its music of church bells and harpsichord and I’m passing these huge radiology satellites, rows and rows of them. There are signs telling me to stay out, and I believe I should. There are white vans going in and out on obscure highways around the area. There is nothing, there is nothing but mountain and road and then there is this, just sitting on the side of the highway. I get as close and I can and I sit there. I get out and take a few pictures, then vans start passing me. Lots of vans, watching me. I don’t know what the fuck I’ve done I just want to take some pictures. “Boys For Pele” is playing I know every word and these vans are hassling me. I leave. I go to Socorro.

The towns look poor and everything is adobe and clay and there are people jogging and riding around and running errands, but I feel like life here isn’t like how it would be anywhere else. I wonder if the people are aware that they’re living on a giant magnet and if they prize it like I would. Socorro County is beautiful. Some mountains still have snow on them. I wonder how, I reason it’s late April, almost May, and I remember how cold it gets at night. I woke up today with frost on my face.

At Socorro, I dare not stop; I get on I-25 South heading toward Las Cruces. Tori’s “Doughnut Song” tears me apart. I know I move around too much to fall in love the way I want. I’ve been moving around since I was fifteen. Some places I stay a year, some just a few months. I can’t wait to meet someone worth settling down for; and can’t think I don’t deserve it. I’ll never have anything considering how I am now. I’m tired of fucking up good relationships already. I-25 passes some places simply overwhelming and beautiful and I put in Jewel’s “0304” album. I intermittently cry when it gets to be too much. I cannot believe how pretty this place is. My heart is breaking filling breaking filling. And I just ride by with big alligator tears streaming down my face. I am tired and my back is sore and I’m hungry like always and crying, driving down in this beautiful state with no one else to see what I see. There is still so much to cry about. I’ve been so alone and strong for so long; it is finally time to cry over it. Time to cry because I can’t wait to be in love again and I can’t wait to live and I am living and this is so beautiful and I’m here by myself and I’m listening to these sappy pop songs. The land is amazing and I’m far from anyone I know and only getting further away. What a beautiful ride.

I want to stop. I am hungry and I need gas and I’m almost to Truth or Consequences, New Mexico. It’s right off the highway. I eat at this little diner and read the local paper and someone’s been murdered and border patrol and gangs. It is sunny. The lady brings me want I want. I want something fucking greasy and fatty. I want a burger and some fucking fries and a root beer. She tells me how to get to the main strip in town. She tells me there’s a rodeo this weekend, but I won’t be here for it. I don’t know where I’ll be this weekend. My road is going nowhere and has been nowhere. But I won’t be here.

While I wait for the food to come, I go to the bathroom. I lock it. I walk over to the mirror and look at my eyes. I look tired and I look hungry and I look pretty bad. But my eyes are still loaded with color. There is some red around deep green with lime-yellow flecks. They look like they’ve seen a lot and are going to see more and full of hope and full of life. They’re expectant and they’re ready. I’ve been hallucinating a lot today. I see some sparkles in the corner. I open the bathroom door and they run out in front of me. Blue and silver sparkles, circling in the air. Then I see black fire. Black fire making a square around my field of vision, each panel in the frame moving in opposing directions running into each other and the calm I feel here. Black fire and sparkles. I eat the fries first because I hate cold fries more than a cold burger. I drink my root beer, I stare out. I watch the cars pass and look at the people here and then I go ride where that lady told me to ride. There isn’t much and that’s alright and I see some signs for a park in Elephant Butte and go.

I get there and pay to see the park, but I tell them I’m only going to be there for a few hours and the ranger says what’s the rush what are you doing here and sign in. I tell him I’m doing a photography trip, and I just started, and I sign in and he watches me write that I’m from New York. He says what part and I say Buffalo. It’s true. My car’s plate has New York on it and I lived there with Brad. He says this is a nice park and you should spend the night you’ve already paid. He gives me a sticker to put on my windshield. It’s still early in the day, maybe two o’clock.

I drive around the park a little; the park is artificially beautiful. There is a beach. There is water but there is no vegetation and no life. Just water. The sky is blue and empty, no clouds today. And it is windy, very fucking windy. I ride down to where I want to set my tent up. I sit in my car for a long time. I’m hungry again. I have some fruit snacks and some dried fruit and a granola bar. I remember I had guava nectar because I spilled some and it was pink. I clean up my car a little bit. I live here now. This is where I live. I pick up some garbage and put it in a bag. I straighten up and rearrange how some things are sitting. I put my maps on top of everything. Everything gets really scattered because I usually pick out what I need while driving then let it lay where it falls. I look for a garbage can and see a bathroom. I go in to wash my hands because my hands get really dirty and sweaty from holding the steering wheel and I always have the window down. I’ve had it down since I left. And I’ll have it down every day of this trip. I smell the places I’m in, for good or bad and the air constantly tousles my hair. I listen to the openness while the wind washes my hair.

There is a shower in here. Hell yeah, I was starting to smell myself. I get my shampoo and soap and face wash and wash myself for a really long time. The water is hot and perfect and it feels good pouring over me. My muscles are sore and my back is tense. My face feels greasy and rough. The clothes I had on fall limp, saturated with sweat and dirt. The clothes I pull out are still crisp and clean and have creases where I folded them. But the old clothes won’t hold a crease. I have worn the shit out of them.

I wash for a really long time. I’m starting to get hard and I usually don’t masturbate in the shower. It’s the one place everyone expects you to do it when you’re growing up and it makes me chafe and get dry and I’m already in the fucking desert this isn’t going to help. So I use conditioner to jerk off with. It shoots out really hard and fast and it’s everywhere. It gets globular and gelatinous as soon as it lands and I watch it go down the drain in this park in New Mexico I’ve just masturbated here. And I am clean. My hair feels light I’ve been wearing a hat for the past two days because I can’t do anything with it. I don’t want to put in any gel because it might be in there for a few days and I won’t be able to wash it out. My face is broken out from dirt and sweat but it feels cleansed and my pores are unclogged and I feel generally great now.

I walk all around the beach and I’m all alone for it. I see one cloud in the sky and I love it. It’s how I feel. One cloud in a huge open sky, racing to infinity. It’s still so windy and it sometimes tries to blow me down. There is sand everywhere and it’s sunny and hot and I’m in New Mexico I love the energy here. I walk for a really long time and then go back up to my car. I have a signal again on my phone. I listen to the messages from when I was being circled by coyotes and passing satellites. I call my Mom and tell her I’m doing fine and staying in Elephant Butte tonight. She worries about me. She still can’t believe I’m doing this. I tell her I know and I love her.

My mind is calm and blank. I think about nothing. I sit directly on the earth here and think about nothing for a long while. The sky starts to darken and the sun starts losing the race with the moon. I enjoy the peace and feel good about myself and what I’m doing. I read “Ponder on This” for a little while. I think about worshipping and my own religion so I walk out to the beach again in the dark, feeling philosophical after reading these informed thoughts, and let my steps be wide and aimless.

I thank the earth for last night and not letting me die in Pie Town, seriously. I tell whoever is listening that they can come with me tomorrow. I look at the moon and sky and wonder what waits for me; what storms.

Then I build my tent and it’s still windy so takes longer again. I weigh down the bottom with a big rock and work around it until it’s standing, then I pound the stakes into the ground extra hard. I get in and fall asleep pretty quickly. I am sleeping on the ground, imbibing anything this place has to give me.

Route: 60E to I-25S

Elephant Butte, New Mexico 4-27-05

Socorro Co., New Mexico 4-27-05