Happy New Year

Chapter 114: Petroglyphs, Deadlines, and Hypothermia by the Door

For the first time in what felt like weeks, we slept in. After dawn patrols at Navajo Dam and a long drive into Albuquerque, this lazy morning felt deeply deserved. Naturally, this peace lasted about twelve minutes before Nelson’s phone started ringing. One work call turned into another, and suddenly he was glued to his laptop well into the afternoon. I sat nearby, silently escalating my looks from mild disappointment to full murder eyes. Funny how none of this happened during the three days we froze at the San Juan River, where he didn’t catch a single fish.

By almost 4pm, we finally escaped and drove to Rinconada Canyon in Petroglyph National Monument. The moment we parked, I saw the sign: “Closes at 5pm.” Immediate panic. The trail is 2.2 miles long and supposedly has up to 300 petroglyphs. My brain went into efficiency mode: How fast can I walk? How many rocks can I scan per minute? What if I miss the best one?

I charged ahead, eyes glued to the canyon walls. Nelson followed behind, still half at work. The petroglyphs were much subtler than I expected, often indistinguishable from cracks unless the light hit them just right. Sometimes I’d get excited and realize I was admiring geology, not ancient art. Nelson, meanwhile, insisted he saw a penguin petroglyph. In New Mexico. He photographed it, zoomed in, and… nothing. Not even a vague beak. The imaginary penguin was ... imaginary.

Finding the petroglyphs felt like a treasure hunt with no map and no instructions. Some carvings were elaborate and intentional, others looked like bored ancient bathroom graffiti. It awakened something deeply familiar in me... the doodling girl who draws on every scrap of paper. I loved imagining someone thousands of years ago thinking, yeah, this rock needs a little something.

I was torn between speed-walking and staring intensely at rocks until a family casually told us that while the gate closes at 5pm, you can stay as long as you like. Instant relief. We slowed down, watched the sky turn pink and blue, and admired the moon already high above the canyon. Downtown Albuquerque glowed quietly in the distance. It was one of those unexpectedly peaceful moments that sneak up on you.

Dinner was takeout from Tamashi West. We waited on a sofa by the door while Arctic air blasted us every time someone entered. I nearly died. The food, however, was worth it: hearty, comforting, and the hamachi kama was genuinely legit. Happiness was restored.

Laundry followed. Eight dollars a load hurt, but the laundry room was warm and had free coffee, so I forgave everything. The coffee itself was… not great. It was 8pm and I drank it anyway.

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Chapter 115: Flat Tires, Free Fixes, and Unexpected Fireworks 

New Year’s Eve began with adult responsibilities. The tire pressure warning light came on again, and I refused to spend the rest of our drive obsessively hunting for working air pumps. Nelson hesitated, strange city, unknown mechanics... but I stood firm. Walmart Auto Care won.

Leaving the van felt oddly stressful. I imagined someone forgetting it was a van and casually driving it into a garage, shearing off our rooftop A/C. The lead mechanic asked a hundred questions while typing into his iPad, and we braced ourselves for the bill. Then we learned flat tire repair is basically free for Walmart+ members. I am a Walmart+ member. The day instantly upgraded itself.

While waiting, Nelson took, shockingly, another work call. I wandered the Supercenter, fascinated by local flavor. Hello Kitty piñatas felt extremely Albuquerque. I also bought enormous sparklers for later, which puts me in official NYE mode.

After almost two hours, the tire was patched and daylight remained, so we went to Old Town. Yes, touristy. Yes, we paid for parking. Yes, we bought souvenirs. I took home hot sauce, green chile sauce, tea leaves, and a tea towel. New Mexico is VERY proud of its chile, and I respect that ... even if my stomach may not.

Dinner was steak and chicken, because why limit ourselves? We waited for midnight chatting with family, then went outside around 9pm to light sparklers. They were huge and fantastic. The heart-shaped sparkler, however, was a scam. It looked nothing like a heart and frankly hurt my feelings.

At midnight, fireworks erupted all around us, closer and louder than expected, lasting nearly half an hour. Completely unexpected. VERY delightful. Happy New Year!

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Chapter 116: Washing the Van, Touching the Clouds, and Chasing Nostalgia

New Year’s Day began with dumping tanks, a humbling way to start 2026, followed by curiosity about the RV wash bay. This place is technically a luxury RV and boat storage facility, and the wash bay is serious. The manager had given me free tokens, so we went to “just check it out.”

Nelson immediately transformed into a washing machine possessed. Foam, rinse, pre-soak, upstairs, downstairs: every option was used. With bonus tokens from a kind stranger, we spent nearly an hour cleaning the Don Don Van. Finished with a high-powered vacuum, it genuinely felt brand new. A deeply weird by satisfying way to start the year.

For my tourist quota, we went to the Sandia Peak Tramway. Longest tram in the Americas, 1,164 meters up in 15 minutes. Halfway up, the car disappeared into cloud. At the top: pure white nothingness and thin air. We were underdressed and slightly confused. We took selfies, immediately lined up to go back down, and met hikers who’d spent seven hours climbing. Nelson asking if I wanted to hike earlier in the day felt comical.

We drove east, stopped at a rest area in Amarillo with free WiFi, and I recreated a van version of Harry’s Café de Wheels chili dog using leftovers. It was smaller, messier, but pretty good!

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Chapter 117: Beer Gardens, Broken Propane, and Music That Never Stops

On the way to Oklahoma City, we fell for a highway billboard and stopped at a boot shop. No boots were purchased. Hats were tried on. Bathrooms were used. Success.

When in Texas... try on a cowboy hat LOL

Bricktown was calm and pleasant, the canal short but charming. Naturally, we detoured into Bass Pro Shop. I found gloves that were almost perfect until I realized the lining was broken. We left empty-handed. Later, I ordered the same gloves on Amazon. Sorry, Bass Pro.

We ended the night at Truck Yard, with outdoor seating, live music, fire pits, beer, churros, and the best restroom décor I’ve ever seen. Barbie posters outside, Ken firefighter calendars inside the stalls. I was delighted. Slightly tipsy. Very happy.

We parked overnight at a Love’s truck stop and I turned on the hot water… only icy cold water came out. Panic ensued. Stove also dead. We had officially “broken the van.” After frantic Googling and despair, I noticed a mysterious L.P. Valve button switched off... likely knocked during a rough patch of driving. The mystery solved, we had the hottest showers of our lives.

Help... I broke the van!

At nearly 1am, as we FINALLY were ready for bed, we realized the gas station plays music all night. Constant. Cheerful. Inescapable. We were too tired to care and fell asleep anyway... but next time, we’re checking for background music first.