The Very Large Detour

On my way home from Oklahoma (which was not a vacation, but that’s a whole other blog post), I decided to go see the Very Large Array (VLA) which is 50 miles outside of Socorro, New Mexico. It’s one of those places I’ve always wanted to see but didn’t because it’s not on the way to anywhere. When I’m driving across the country I usually have to make good time, not stop and smell the antennas. But if not now, when, right?

I spent the night before my visit in Socorro, spending way too much for a room at the Holiday Inn Express after reading the online reviews of the budget motels in town. They all talked about a “strange smell” or a “stank” that one could get used to after a couple of stiff drinks. So I paid for cleanliness. The front desk clerk was a little odd, which strikes me as normal for New Mexico. She talked about how heavy her purse is, due in part to her habit of carrying around eating utensils. “You never know when you might be in the desert and want to eat cake,” she said. When I suggested that she might only need one fork for this she replied, “What if you’re not alone? You don’t want to be rude, do you?” I couldn’t argue with that.

I headed out early the next morning, because even when I’m trying to take a relaxing detour part of me still wants to make good time. There were few people on the road early Sunday morning. I was cruising along at the speed limit (55 mph) on a two lane highway when I saw a coyote running across the field to my right. I slowed to watch. He or she slowed to look at me. I stopped, s/he stopped. I put the window down and said, “Aren’t you nocturnal?” and s/he took off running again.

I was happy with the sighting. I’d been seeing signs for various wildlife since I left home and hadn’t seen any (except for the raccoons that waved goodbye when I pulled out of my parking lot – didn’t know they lived there). Not one elk, not one deer, not a buffalo roaming, nothing. Then, shortly after the coyote, I saw two pronged antelope bucks. I took their picture. They just stood there as if thinking, “Why do the big pieces of metal stop, point something at me, then go?” Or maybe not. I like to imagine what’s going through the critters’ minds.

The scenery along the way was stunningly gorgeous. I don’t bother to take pictures of New Mexico landscapes because I can’t do it justice. If the state had an ocean it would be perfect. Eventually I arrived at the plains of San Agustin, also known as the middle of nowhere, and saw the VLA in the distance.

When I visited the telescopes were in the D formation, which the gift shop clerk told me she calls the “Darn Close” formation (as opposed to the All Away A formation, which spreads them out over the miles of tracks).

I followed the signs, parked in the visitors’ lot, and stepped out of my car and into a plague of locusts. Okay, a swarm of grasshoppers (so less dramatic). I realized belatedly that they were what I was crunching over on the roadway as I drove in. Eww.

I went inside and found that I was the only one there. No employees, no other tourists, just me. So I started the movie that’s narrated by Jodie Foster (she of Contact fame, which was filmed here in 1997) and watched it. You can see it, too. It’s available online here: http://vimeo.com/70554007. It’s 24 minutes long and I highly recommend it. Even if you’re not interested in what the VLA does or how it does it, the scenery and pictures of space are superb. The VLA is how we learn about black holes and see into the past.

Once done with the movie I left the theatre to discover a couple of tourists had arrived. They’d waited for me to finish the film and went in when I came out. Just as I was picking up the map for the self-guided tour the gift shop clerk stomped into the hallway from an outside door. She literally stomped her feet, and shook her head and made “ugh, eww, yuk” sounds. I’d been so enthralled with the movie that I’d forgotten the grasshoppers.

I went outside, phone turned off as directed, and began the tour. I tried, at first, not to step on the grasshoppers. I don’t want to kill any living thing when it’s in its own environment. A spider in my bathroom is a different matter entirely. At first the grasshoppers almost seemed cute. They bounced all over the place, off each other, off me (not landing), and the larger ones were beautiful. I tried to get a photo of their blue and green coloring but they didn’t pose like the antelope.

I read the signs, I took pictures of the antennas and the sun dial (old and new, side by side), and I would have thoroughly enjoyed my time there, especially since the two other tourists hadn’t come out and I still had the place to myself, except the grasshoppers decided to ride my legs. Well, to back up, first I noticed that they were cannibals. Mildly upsetting to see them eating their brethren’s corpses. But then they landed on my jeans and wouldn’t get off when I tried to shoo them away with my rolled up map. That’s when the beatings began.

I was determined to complete the tour, to see those gorgeous ‘scopes from all available angles, to read every last sign, and I wouldn’t let the plague of locusts stop me, damn it. But I had to whack myself over and over again, killing them to get them off me. Still, I managed a few photos:

When I got to the end of the tour, at the door that leads in to the gift shop, I entered just as the clerk had, stomping my feet, shaking my head, and uttering noises of disgust. She laughed and said, “You made it!” The other tourists were shopping, and clearly had no intention of doing what I’d just done. They’d seen enough from the movie and hurried back to their car as I began deciding if I had to have another mug as a souvenir.

I chatted with the clerk, who told me about the back roads I could take to return to the interstate another way, and she said I had to stop in Pietown. Of course I did. A town whose sole purpose, these days, is to serve pie, can’t be missed.

When I left the VLA, the little buggers were determined to go with me. See?

I turned my windshield wipers on and he just rode it like he was at the carnival. Using the cleaning fluid got him to let go, though. On my way to Pietown I passed bikers. Those poor guys. Ugh, eww, yuk.