Mountains flatter the horizon

After leaving Roswell, and briefly getting lost (I can understand why the aliens crashed here... So easy to get turned around), I headed West on 70. It took a while, but then the mountains appeared on the horizon. Just there, waiting for me to come and visit them.

I kept turning slightly south and frustrating me, as I wanted to drive straight to them and climb up to see the view. But it worked out OK, as I got the hills at Sunset and everything suddenly felt right. The hills were sharp and golden - with small green shrubs dotting them in a way that just inspires painters. Part of an ancient reef, the limestone occasionally peeked through - like the stuffing from a worn doll. But up and down, in and out - they just danced. The road traced a creek that fed green, green grass at the bottom flat.

Down there were small farms and ranches. Cows, sheep, peacocks and horses all enjoyed the fields. Rimming the grass areas were tall tress, again green green green. The houses were straight from Kinkade - almost too saccharine. Aged wooden fences with rusting equipment.

Just beautiful from Sunset to Lincoln. I ended up in a little town on the desert side. Near the Valley of Fire - at the top of the same valley where I hiked in the sand. I've got to get going. On up to Albuquerque. Finally I'm back where the mountains hem me in. Drama in landscape is good.