** I passed a sign at some point along here. It contained only three lines. I'm assuming it was telling of three separate things, but maybe it's just a sign maker somewhere getting a chuckle:

State Prison
Surprise
Wildlife Refuge

** Also somewhere in here was a sign for the "Amerind Museum". I saw it and frowned. Was Amerind a local individual of some note? I've never heard of him or her. Then it struck me. Amerind ... American Indian. Bad enough we stole their land and gave them smallpox, but now they have the ultimate indignity of a squished name. And on a museum too. Very classy. Thanks, New Mexico.

I enjoyed the "MEXICO. BE THERE NOW." sign probably more than I should have. Still, if I had only to take the next exit and be in Mexico, then ...

Turn. Point. Click. Hey look! My first picture of Mexico! And you can tell, too, because of the truckload of immigrants coming toward the very secure two-foot high barbed wire fence border.
Why yes, it is possible to be both PC and not-PC mere moments apart.

Yet another Continental Divide-style tent of insanity, and not too far from the first. This one is "Akela Flats" and it sells exactly the same shit as the place ten minutes back.

But maybe you missed both of those, so we'll give you another chance. This time, be tempted by surely quality merchandise at "Old West".

So by now I've been driving for a while, and the lack of anything interesting to look at is beginning to get to me. (Remember that I've been driving for about seven hours. The handful of pictures doesn't really cover the true scope of the journey.) I decided to get out and stretch my legs at the next available opportunity. This came soon enough in the form of a rest stop.

But not just any rest stop. This one bore a proud sign, shouting to the world that it was voted as "Best Rest Stop" in 1996. I'm not sure what earned it this truly prestigious title.

But I do know it wasn't the toilets.
To take this, I've had to physically integrate with the door. But it's not the cramped quarters that compelled me to use my camera in a public restroom. It's the main feature itself.

The photo doesn't do it justice, but essentially, this is the booster seat of toilets – raised off the ground and meant only to support those three and under comfortably. The seat was approximately half the size of the norm, and the platform it was on actually left me with my feet dangling. Plus there's just the look of it. I sat down and began to anxiously await my cell phone to ring with a call from the governor. I expected to see a hooded guy off to the side ready to pull the flushing lever. (Though god knows how he'd fit.) In summation, this was not a happy peeing experience.

As I exited, I saw a giant "Tell us about your visit! We welcome your comments!" sign. Yes, the rest stop was soliciting feedback. But their definition of "comments" was clearly different from my own. They asked simply, "Did you enjoy your visit to our AWARD WINNING rest stop?" For easy answering they had a little box with two buttons: yes and no. For you see, there's no middle ground in the rest stop world. It's a life of extremes! Either you love it or you hate it! There's no grey area, no waffling! It's a lifestyle choice, but only for the strong! If you can't take it, get the hell outta the way! There's no room for pussies here! Which is sort of— Anyway.

I really wish I'd taken a picture of the thing, but I was just so stunned by the impracticality. Who does this information reach? Why do they want to know? Are they simply trying to recapture the glory days of ten long years ago? And what's to stop someone – like oh, say, me – from just hitting "NO" sixty billion times? Whose hopes and dreams am (hypothetical) I crushing with every press?

For all of that, however, I did enjoy this scenic overlook. Even more so when Mike saw the picture and commented about the pathetic lack of coverage for the borders these days.

For this picture, I just turned a little to my left from the above. I have no idea what these structures are or what they're supposed to be. I'm guessing tiny forts, for our tiny protectors.

But this. This was best of all. As I was driving out of the rest stop I spotted this. I actually stopped the car and backed up. Yes, sitting there off to the side is a giant aluminum roadrunner. I don't know why it's there. I don't know what compelled someone to craft it. Oh, you rest stop of enigmatic wonderment! So many questions left unanswered. So many questions.

But my salvation was soon at hand! I've been rescued from New Mexico by Texas!
.....unh.

** I drove 240 miles into Texas before stopping for the night, and yet there aren't really any photographs. Southwest Texas was pretty much just a more arrogant New Mexico. But I did have a few interesting experiences. A hundred miles or so from the New Mexico/Texas border (around Esperanza) there was a detour. Big flashing lights and a warning that all vehicles had to exit. Well this was new. I followed the traffic (fortunately pretty light) and we were routed to a covered area off the road, sort of like the truck weigh stations you see on the interstates. Traffic slowed to about 5 mph as we drove past two rows of cop cars on either side, and an officer standing near the cars, intently surveying everything as we drove past. He waved on everyone I saw, and the journey continued unabated, but it was curious. I wasn't sure if it was an amber alert thing (which I did in fact see in Phoenix), but with the presence of at least a few border patrol cars makes me wonder if that isn't the nature. I'd been driving for a while right along the Mexican border and I-10 was about to head east into the main parts of the state. It's a theory. I would've asked what was going on, but you know. Guns. And those reflecty cop glasses.

The sun begins to set on what turned out to be a fairly uninteresting afternoon.

The interstate turned south for a little bit, enabling me to capture this out of the side window. Sunsets make me happy.