Rocky Point Campground is a good name for it.
Yesterday . . . After the long drive from Brantley, the crew and I are anxious to arrive at Santa Rosa State Park. We’ve had hours of flat highway through New Mexico grassland. That changes as we approach the park on a long, winding, uphill road. We cross over the dam. The road is only two lanes. I take a quick glance at the deep gorge to the left and the water way down below to the right. “No parking” signs don’t allow for a picture. Not that I’d stop anyway . . . kind of scary so high up.
I can’t bear to listen to Bridget and Spike yap any more.
I stop near the entrance and let them out for a break. It’s around 3:30 and, of course, it’s hot. The crew members finish their business and we move on.
It’s self-pay so I grab a form to fill out and proceed around the campground loop. I start to get nervous as I see “reserved” signs on one site after another (all the pull-throughs), although several of them are empty.
I don’t see water at the non-reserved sites. After two loops, I spot one with water and electric and attempt a back-in. I’m feeling a bit shaky and after my first miserable try, I realize I can’t do it. It’s too hot and I’m too tired and impatient.
Plus I’m worrying that the heat will get me again.
I drive to the first empty pull-through, get a water out of the fridge, and the crew and I sit under the picnic table shelter. Soon a park guy drives up on an golf cart type vehicle. I tell him I know this is a reserved spot, I just had to rest a bit, and would he help me get backed in? He’s very agreeable, says he has to dump some gravel, and he’ll be right back.
He picks a site across the road and talks me through the backing-in.
At that point I don’t care that it’s an unattractive site. I want air conditioning for me and the crew! I hook up the electric and save the water hook-up for when the sun goes down and I have some energy. (Later I notice an army of ants heading up the electric cord. I zap them good with spray, plus the wheels.)
Bridget, Spike, and I go in the Casita which looks like a tornado hit it from all the jostling on the rough highway. At last we are here!
Santa Rosa’s landscape is brown and scraggly in August.
Everything is bone dry. I am disappointed with the lay-out of the campground. It’s small with campsites close together. It doesn’t help that the shrubs and trees are short and spindly. There is no great vista to be seen from campsites as there is at Brantley Lake.
But, heck, for now it’s home!
Today the sunshine isn’t as bright. After an early morning walk with the crew, I cook a hearty egg breakfast to help me regain some strength. We stay inside most of the day.
I wash some clothes, reorganize the kitchen, do some banking online, read about the hurricane, cook corn-on-the-cob at lunchtime, shower and wash my hair, take a nap, shake out the quilts, tidy up the place . . . .
Tonight I need to make a decision about where we will be next week and through the Labor Day weekend. I hear thunder! Storm clouds are gathering. Maybe we’ll sleep to rain on the roof tonight.