Log of the Argo, February 18

We weighed anchor early….hoping to beat the winds that blow across West Texas.  We’ll the captain nearly grounded us on a reef so we waited for sunrise.  The captain explained that he’s not afraid of the dark, rather his imaginings in the dark.  The mind makes up what the eyes can not see, he said.  Personally, I see in the dark just fine, but because I have no thumbs I cannot steer the boat.

There were some sad towns along the way. Bare bones sticking up in the prairie (desert more like) winds.  We made El Paso.  Like San Antonio the freeway system was made after the city flourished.  So you got spirals of concrete in the air o’erpassing the streets and by ways.  And always under construction.  What a mess.  We could not have moored our poor vessel even had we wanted to.

Then at Las Cruces (wonderful little city with some charm – unlike the above) we turned north – nice at first – then we ran into a sand storm.

Does Mother Nature have it in for this crew.

We’ve reaching Truth or Consequences (sounded apt) where we will moor for the night.  The motel clerk seemed to be dressed for another kind of business. Then head north to meet with the fair Lisa (niece by any other name).  I’ve got to tend to the Captain…..his hands are still quivering.

Tasha, First Mate