My November road trip to Grand Canyon concludes…
———
Hatch, New Mexico
The “Chile Capital of the World” is a fun and interesting place. Stopping for a visit never gets old.
The little town is surrounded by vast fields of chile pepper plants. Something in the soil agrees with certain varieties of peppers, and the local farmers have taken advantage of it for the last century.
Naturally, numerous shops around town sell all forms of the product — fresh, cooked, dried, powdered, frozen — as well as souvenirs of the town, the state, and the region.
Also, Hatch is only 100 miles from Mexico, so Talavera pottery is everywhere.
The prices are low, and I have a grand time perusing the merchandise. As if I need more Talavera pottery.
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Meridian, Mississippi
On Day 11, I stopped for lunch in Meridian and pulled into the parking lot of a Mexican restaurant.
Immediately, a large brown dog appeared. He sat at attention next to the RV, wagging his tail furiously and looking up at me. He was a big, short-haired, pitbull-looking dog. He seemed friendly, but I was a little apprehensive when I got out of the RV.
No worries. he took the lead and escorted me to the restaurant entrance, looking back frequently over his shoulder. At the door, he stepped aside and sat at attention again, tail still wagging. Amused and bewildered, I went inside.
My table had a view of the entrance and the dog sitting outside quietly. Suddenly, he leapt to his feet and disappeared from view.
But not for long. He returned, escorting more people to the restaurant. They entered, and he resumed his sitting position at the door.
A few minutes later, a couple paid their check and left the restaurant. The dog escorted them to their car, then returned to his station.
While I ate, he escorted numerous customers to and from the restaurant. He never got uncomfortably close to anyone, never begged for food or attention. He was just, well, escorting the customers.
I flagged down the waitress. I had to ask about the dog.
“He showed up about a month ago,” she said. “Nobody knows where he came from or where he goes at night, but he’s always here when we get to work. We call him Jeeves.”
The employees had asked around, but no one knew anything about Jeeves. Nor could they explain his behavior with the customers. Some thought he was looking for his owner.
Jeeves was always friendly and a gentleman, the waitress said, and no customers had complained, so they saw to reason to call Animal Control.
A girl’s voice came from the booth behind me. “Mom, can I go over by the door and look at the dog?”
“Okay, honey, but stay inside.”
The little girl stood beside the glass door for several minutes, studying Jeeves. I was compelled to step into the aisle and take a photo.
When the waitress brought my check, I asked what Jeeves did about food. Did he fend for himself — like, eating out of garbage cans?
“Oh, no, Jeeves is well taken care of. He gets all the restaurant leftovers he can handle.”
After lunch, Jeeves escorted me to the RV, then trotted back to his post at the front door.
###
Jefferson, Georgia
As always, it was good to be home. I sprung Jake from the kennel, and we resumed our routines.
Among my mementos of the trip was a $10 ristra I bought in Hatch. I found a suitable spot in the living room to hang it.
I didn’t set out to create a Southwest theme, but it seems to have materialized anyway.
A good road trip is satisfying and therapeutic. But, a few months from now, I’ll start getting antsy to go somewhere again.
To a degree, the destination will matter. But not as much as the doing of the thing.
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Great post 😁