part-3 -a visit to ruidoso

Part3-A short visit to Ruidoso, New Mexico

        In the middle of nowhere in the middle of New Mexico is Ruidoso, and is the quarter horse capital of the world. I was to the National Quarter Horse Museum and was able to walk in the sculpture garden with Bud where I took pics of him that I have used on here. He was good and didn’t do anything except sit and be a ham for me. He was great to have along and I was amazed how dogs are being recognized as bargaining chip when hotels and motels offer pet friendly rooms. Allowing him in the gardens was permitted after I promised to make sure he left no presents. I enjoyed walking among the leaping horses, and encouraged Bud to sit for a few shots.

        We then headed uptown and were astounded by all the bears on Main Street, as lot after lot was taken by chainsaw carvers, carving bears. This is the main reason I had come to New Mexico. Part was to help Mom and Dad and part was to take off on a new venture. I remember at a low point when there just didn’t seem to be enough money to keep farming. I thought to myself, wow I am a starving farmer. What kind of a farmer am I if I have no money and can’t take care of myself? It was time for agonizing reappraisal and take note of my resources and even without anything I realized I had artistic talent, firewood, and chainsaws. Ideal for chainsaw carving and then someone suggested I visit Ruidoso, having seen all the bears carved there and told me about it. so I figured, if I ended up out there I was going to check it out. I was finally there and it was just as they described it as I pulled up into an old gas station that looked as if it was on rt. 66 and the parking lot was full of bears and the carver was inside.

       The reason Ruidoso was so taken with bear carving as it is close to the area where the original smoky the bear was found as a cub having survived a forest fire , although badly burned and nursed back to health, and with his story he soon became a mascot for the forestry department many years back. Someone later took to carving bears in Ruidoso and it was soon the carved bear capital of the U.S.A.. Tourists visiting the area were soon headed to Ruidoso to bring back a bear memento of their visit to this little bit of heaven in the middle of the desert.

     I should describe Ruidoso a little more besides saying it is a ski resort, as it isn’t barren desert, instead covered with a good growth of pines, with deer and elk and all animals you would find with a high mountain living, and has quaint little cottages one could rent when visiting the ski resort that draws in visitors from all over the desert southwest for a chance to see snow and ski as well watch the horse races.

 a selfie shadow shot of me in desert

      I negotiated a price on a bear to take with me and then asked for a demonstration on carving and we began talking and found out he was from Ohio and lived above Akron and was familiar with my area, anyhow he went through the steps on carving, then started the chainsaw and carved a little and then grabbed a surface grinder and added a few touches and presto forty dollar bear in a half hour. Sixteen cuts. Short and blocky, yet all different and mostly looking like what you paid for. I took his carving home and studied it and then said to myself, I can do this quite confidently and tried and failed miserably. My first log was a water elm and when I carved it, it shrank right up leaving huge cracks. I didn’t know how to fix the cracks and after observing this I was feeling kind of crappy about it knowing I must be doing something wrong so I changed the wood to some nice rock hard oak. Mistake two, as I could see the sparks jumping off the chain at times as I managed to carve a 400 lb. log into a huge head and placed it at the end of the lane alongside St. Rt. 800 and watched as day after day  I would see people slow and check it out. Then one day I went to check the mail and saw it was gone. I once watched someone in a van messing with a motorcycle I had for sale and figured that may have been how they done it. It was in clear view of my trailer at the time. But I figured if you are crazy enough to risk a felony for a hunk of wood, you are crazy enough to do anything. I could have put any price on it. I wasn’t even trying to sell it and was just showing it off. But I knew I made it, when they stole it.

       Didn’t think anyone would steal it but they did and all I have is a pic and a memory but will share pic with you and if you happen to see it in someone’s back yard, give me a yell. Ruidoso had a lot to do with me getting started into carving, I continued on with the carving and was soon spitting out bears. The one thing that guy in the old gas station left me with; was the sage advice for all in your endeavors, and that was never quit trying to do something you want to do. It’s a lot easier than doing something you don’t want to. That and ‘Bloom where you are planted’ are two mottos I try to live by. There be could be worse mottos. Ruidoso was actually a ski resort town at an elevation of about 7000 on a high plateau leading to the peak of Sierra Blanca at 12000 feet, where they actually skied in the wintertime in the middle of New Mexico. Who would have thunk. So Bud and I headed for the peak in my old Ford Ranger. I wanted to see them skiing and I did.

    At times the road would turn on itself and make it easy to polish your left rear turn signal on some of those turns, as if you were chasing your tail. The last 5000 ft. in elevation was an experience, as vistas were afforded of plunging cliffs below you at times as you would thread your way up the mountain. On one switchback it was so steep and it was on bud’s side that he became freaked out by how high above everything we were that he started backing into the truck and was soon sitting on my arm as I tried to keep us on the road. I told him to calm down and quit looking out there if it bothered him that much. He would sneak back over barely lifting his head to the edge of the window. I had to laugh at him and only hoped the old Ranger wouldn’t let me down and get us home safely. Eventually the snaky road dumped you into a parking lot advising you to listen to snow reports and not be stranded on the mountain and do not attempt to traverse the road until you know road is clear. I could easily see why. Wouldn’t take too much sliding and you would be history. They had all the amenities of a ski slope one would expect, including a ski lift taking you up to the peak of the mountain. I wanted to just go up and check it out but never did. Travelling with a dog is great but after an hour in the vehicle even with windows cracked. I still felt guilty, so I never took any chances and would run back to car to check on him, let him out, and take him for walks.

      Coming back down off the mountain and viewing the change from forest to desert and seeing elk and deer , it was all good and along with green grass and flowing streams. It was an oasis in sticks and dried thorns, a place I shall return someday. On my way back to Roswell I passed through Lincoln where Billy the kid was supposedly from and where he was shot. I read some of the history and watched some cowboys riding as if on cue with long coats and would have made a good shot, had I not used my camera taking other pics. It was a long day as it was still 100 miles to Roswell and it was dark and it was the desert of Roswell, New Mexico. Things happen there.