We woke to a chilly 7oC morning in the shadow of the Sacramento Mountain Range. The sun shyly peeping over the ridge, tormenting us as the shadows gradually retreated, and bathed us in its appreciated warmth.

After breakfast, we hiked part of the Dog Canyon trail, climbing through numerous switchbacks, to be rewarded with stunning panorama views from the rocky outcrops. The valley below stretching from horizon to horizon.

Local universities have conducting archeological digs in the area and have determined the trail from the valley bottom to the mountain plateau was used by indians for the last 4000 years.

We left the campground and headed to the White Sands National Monument, stopping in at the visitor centre and picked up a plastic sled.

We drove through a winding road, to be surrounded by the whitest of white sand dunes. The road took us 8 miles into the white sands, then through a loop that returned to the entrance road.

We found a good parking area, stripped off our shoes, then climbed the tall dunes. We sat on the edge like giddy children, ready for the ride down the slope. We had a blast.

Chloe also enjoyed sledding and running around the white sands. Eventually she was Covered in sand and exhausted like us.

We dusted off, cleaned up, and continued on our way to Rock Hound State Park. We drove out of the valley through a very steep winding mountain pass. During the long climb, we noticed numerous vehicle pull outs with signs pointing to taps for radiator water. In the height of summer, they must be well used. We pulled over once after a Hot Engine Oil warning light came on. Pulling 7000 pounds of trailer up those steep grades made the engine and transmission work extra hard. Once we reached normal temperatures, we returned to the road and made good progress.

The Campground Host at Rock Hound State Park noticed us making our way through the valley along the approach road. He drove down, met us at the park entrance and advised us the campground and overflow sites were both full. Seeing our disappointment, he looked around and pointed to a pull out spot inside the entrance and asked if we wanted to park/camp there for the night.

We gratefully accepted it after our long drive. We were pleased how remote and peaceful it was.

"Alamogordo, to Deming, New Mexico" - By Russel Robertson - - Comments Off on Alamogordo, to Deming, New Mexico Comments