the road to Raton

Taking a road trip with my dad is always interesting. He's eager to go, to let the miles slip under his wheels, to make time. Still he takes an interest in what slips by. He tells you all about the crops, the sights. I didn't remember the old volcanic area in New Mexico, Capulin National Monument. Dad has visited it, driven up the cone, spouts info about it.

We barely ever stop. Just to stretch and buy coffee and stuff and find restrooms. We eat some snacks out of Dad's little 12 volt frig. I drive a few hundred miles. But my Dad, eighty-three years old, he drives about five hundred.

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They've stayed at Motel Six in Raton before so we wheel in there. The odometer reads 741 miles. A good day's drive. The girl at the desk gives quite a performance but finally gives us the rooms we want. I can't seem to get my key to work. I go on and open Mom and Dad's and decide to try it once more. It opens. Hmmm. After dinner I'll find it will not open again. And at the point my friendly desk clerk will figure out it's the wrong key. Ah, but what about the one time I made it work? Hmmm.

We eat in a restaurant and gift shop across the parking lot. The gift shop has swallowed the restaurant which is hidden behind the displays of New Mexico and Colorado T-Shirts and personalized rulers. Some new age CDs are playing and are doubtless also for sale. The stuffed animals and knick knacks have inched their way into the dining area. The menu touts Raton with the following facts: elevation 6600 feet; population: 4500; industry: coal, tourism, ranching and the manufacture of metal doors.

The restaurant has no alcohol. After dinner, it's still pretty early, especially New Mexico time. Dad has thoughtfully brought two cans of Shiner Bock. It tastes yummy. I fall asleep in the simple but comfortable room.

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