Real mountains

This is the Mogollon Range as I saw it (many times over a half-hour or so of driving) from U.S. 180 near Cliff, NM. For most of today I was not on interstates for a change. I followed U.S. 180 from Deming, just west of El Paso, almost to Flagstaff and my Grand Canyon hotel is on it as well: several hundred miles of two-lane highway with breathtaking views, happily almost no traffic, and less happily almost no gas stations. At Silver City I crossed the Continental Divide. Eventually I climbed out of the dry chaparral country you see in the foreground into the snow, ice, rockfalls, and switchback turns of several passes through parts of the Mogollon (mogollón is Spanish for a tangled-up mess) including the Gila and Apache National Forests, finally crossing into Arizona and finding gas pumps, just in time, at a tackle shop in the tiny village of Alpine.

Apparently I'm south of where the Rockies end, so that experience waits for my trip from San Jose to Nebraska next week.

The resort hotel I'm in is pleasant enough but nothing really to tell you about. Today's dining experience was at lunch: I finally experienced battered deep-fried chiles rellenos at Booga Red's Restaurant in Springerville, AZ (no website, very little info online). It's apparently the way they're done in the Southwest - or as Aine claims, the only authentic rellenos. They were crunchy and wonderful, bathed in cheese inside and out, and my arteries were soon trying to find a hospital bed to climb onto.

Tomorrow it will be 5 above zero in the morning, ending in the mid-30s. I have my cold-weather gear ready and hope to be in the Grand Canyon National Park all day long.