New Mexico had only been a state within the United States for thirty-eight years when my family moved here from Marquette, Michigan in 1950, for my Mothers health reasons. The state was in the transition period between rough and modern. One of our first excursions out into the back roads of New Mexico was a trip to Cabezon, a little town just abandoned a couple of years earlier. Everything was still intact within the saloon, hotel and individual homes. A dog roamed the streets along with the occasional tumbleweed. I think someone came through now and then to check on things and maybe, hopefully, feed the dog. I remember looking in the windows, which gave me a strange feeling. It felt like people were there. Gusts of wind blew down the streets as if saying howdy or get out of here, not sure which it was. My Dad drove through sandy arroyos as fast as possible so we wouldn’t get stuck out in the middle of nowhere, with no one to help. He was adventurous that way. His father came down the St. Lawrence river and into the great lakes by canoe to Marquette, Michigan in the late 1890s. He was adventurous also, but died early in life. Anyway, New Mexico was open at that time, the pueblos were friendly and you could drive across the mesa if you wanted to. During my highschool years a Sunday School Teacher did just that. We would all pile in his jeep and take out across the mesas and arroyos.     The original spelling of my name was “Piche” a French name.



From first cat to being on a T.V. talk show to being in art festivals to traveling around New Mexico, hiking to most of the mountain peaks and appreciating the old Indian ruins at Chaco Canyon and the old mining towns. New Mexico is a big state. I seldom escaped from its borders because there was so much to do and see. New Mexico’s open spaces gave me a chance to recuperate from the emotional abuse I experienced as a child. I felt at home among the struggling, harsh and dry high mesas of the state. My wife and I traveled almost every weekend and there are still a few corners I haven’t seen. The mountain peaks were especially inspiring. Lake peak above Santa Fe enabled a person to see almost all of northern New Mexico. Mt. Taylor, a volcanic mountain gave views of western geological features. And of course Sandia peak and Magdalena peak revealed views of the middle of the land and down to the south. I’ve been riding a bicycle for almost fourteen years in Albuquerque and the Sandia Mountain foothills, but its become a dangerous activity with so much traffic.

To be cont.

6 Responses to “About”
  1. Prasad says:

    Just happened to run into your blog. You have got a beautiful space running here. Loved some of your write-ups. Its very subtle. I guess I will be hanging around here a lot. 🙂 Great work

  2. gpcox says:

    A pleasure to meet me. Your site sounds extremely interesting and I’m certain to enjoy many visits here.

  3. Hi. Thank you for stopping by Storyteller. New Mexico provided a safe refuge and a play for us to heal after the trauma of living through Hurricane Katrina. Eventually, the call of home proved to be too strong and we left the high desert for our humid swamps. 🙂 — Ray

    • Thank you for your story, I agree with you, New Mexico can be a healing place, wide open spaces, etc.. I am still in the healing process after my families abuse while I was a child. Hiking the mesas, mountains and trails has meant a lot to me. May God be with you. Jim

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