Day 8 – The Dyslexic Soccer Mom
It started off innocently enough, a day trip to Truth or Consequences just 150 miles south of Albuquerque. But then we saw the sign and were hooked. Who could resist a town that might easily be mistaken by a dyslexic soccer mom from Alaska as her southwest hacienda – Mesilla, New Mexico?
So the first stop was to be Truth or Consequences (or “T or C” as us New Mexico insiders call it). It really does get its name from the 50’s game show of the same name. This is the one with Ralph Edwards, not Kitty Carlisle who’s on “To Tell the Truth.” Apparently game shows of that time frowned on fibbing.
Edwards offered to bestow the program’s name on any city that would change its name to Truth or Consequences. Hot Springs, NM reached its boiling point and a new city name was born. Edwards taped the program’s television debut there in 1950 and returned every year for 50 years to march in their parade.
Just outside of T or C, we noticed that the town of Hatch was just 34 miles beyond. Seeking to satisfy my pension for all things chile, the plan was to stop by and pickup some of their world famous green chiles, roasted to perfection. Then we’d turn back to T or C.
But then as we neared Hatch, we found out that Mesilla (and its larger next-door neighbor, Las Cruces) was a mere 38 miles further. The plan changed again. We’d drive to Mesilla first then work our way back north to the original destinations.
Mesilla did not disappoint. While you can’t see Russia from there, it has flown the flag of six nations in its history. It dates back to 1848 and has played a role in the Gadsden Purchase and the Civil War. And it’s where they tried Billy the Kid (likely just part of that gotcha journalism of the day).
The town means “little table” and we pulled up to one to them in a local restaurant that surrounds the town square. Where else can you stop for lunch and have fish tacos with a watermelon juice chaser?
We worked off lunch in the many adobe-style shops of this 2,200-person village. It never ceases to amaze me how many different items you can make out of a chile—pens, salt/pepper shakers, adult appliances, earrings, comical underwear that likely impresses only the guy wearing them.
Like Paul Revere galloping off to warn the British, we saddled up and turned back north to Hatch. We just missed the annual festival over Labor Day weekend, but we did lasso a half-bag of chiles, which they roasted and peeled for us.
As I found out later that night, a half-bag is more chiles than a family of five would eat in five years. But they’ll make nice (albeit early) holiday gifts. Word to us fellas—you may want to thoroughly wash you hands after handling them and before using the little boys room.
I’ve long experienced the disabling effects of “fire-rrhea” after a particularly spicy burrito but who knew it could have similar effects on the front end as well. Just saying.
Finally, we arrived back in T or C in late afternoon. Now days, the town relies on its natural resources rather than its TV fame. The hot springs and homeopathic spas are the big draw. Lounge in a natural spring, then go get your chakra aligned.
It’s also thinking strategically. The town was recently selected as a regional spaceport by Virgin Galactic (no kidding). Talk about an experience that must be out of this world.
We’re penciling that in for a future day trip. You know, Saturn isn’t all that far from Uranus. It’s right over the bridge to nowhere.
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