Day 25 Saturday, March 9: Las Vegas, New Mexico to Taos, New Mexico

Carnegie libraries visited: Las Vegas (NM)

Goldfinger was wrapped in a light layer of snow this morning. It was 26 degrees. Cold, but not North Dakota cold. I slept restlessly, clad in boxer briefs, a button-up shirt, and a v-neck sweater. No hat, and no socks. I had piled some blankets on my sleeping bag, but not enough and, anyway, they were in a disarray. I was cold, not freezing. Anyone who has camped knows the dilemma this creates (most often, when one feels the need to pee). Do I stay where I am, shivering slightly, or do I get up, put on more clothes, and rearrange the blankets? If I do the latter, I will get cold first and then warm later. If I do not, I will remain uncomfortable and will likely remain so throughout the night. Tonight was a toss up. I remained in my sleeping bag, pulled as many blankets as I could on me, and tried to go back to sleep.

There is no Carnegie library in New Mexico more beautiful than the one in Las Vegas, New Mexico. In fact, there is no other Carnegie library currently operating in the state. Only two others were built, and one was abandoned and the other was razed. Set in the center of a block square park, this library looks like a mini-Monticello, complete with rotunda. I could find no information about this history online, and neither librarian was able to help me. 

Las Vegas New Mexico Carnegie

I had a moment of euphoria as I left the plains and drove up into the Sangre de Cristo (blood of Christ) mountains. Snow lay in clumps in the lowlands, turning gradually to a cottony blanket as the elevation increased. In this moment, everything feels right. For years I only felt such elation if I had a slight buzz and was either driving or flying. Yes, I know, buzzed driving is drunk driving and fortunately I was not the pilot. I did not think I could have this feeling sober, but I did.

A Bleachers song, a favorite of mine, came on Spotify:

“I didn’t know I was broken ‘til I wanted to change; I want to get better, better, better, better.”

And I am. Getting better.

One road to Taos passes through Angel Fire, a ski resort. I had not skied the entire winter, and so I tried to get an entire’s season of skiing in during one afternoon. I started with the bunny slopes and gradually worked up to the Black Diamond slopes, full of moguls. Now tired, I crashed and burned. When I got up, my shoulder was aching but I thought, what the heck, I could do one more run. I could not. Trying to plant my ski poles caused excruciating pain. Someone must have alerted the ski patrol, and they brought me to the base in a sled. Diagnosis? Broken collar bone. The ski medic had worked at Philmont, and we discovered our mutual connection with mutual delight. He offered me some strong pain killers, and at first I demurred. I was driving up to Philmont for a meeting, and he reminded me that during the night there was no pharmacy within 100 miles that would be able to relieve my pain. Thanking him, I accepted them. That night, I was glad I had.