OMG YOU GUYS, WHITE SANDS IS AWESOME (by Murphy the Dog)

Seriously. It is. And not only because it was such a welcome change from the majority of this trip, during which I have been moping about in the back seat, rigged up in some humiliating canine restraint contraption while Nick and Lauren have been enjoying their mobile command center up front.


Do they think this is a space ship?


I know I look stupid.


Don't laugh or I swear I'll eat your face.


I mean, just absurd.

They keep telling people, "Oh, it's for her protection", but then I hear them snickering to each other about me becoming a potentially lethal 60-pound cannon ball in the event of a crash. Clearly the thing was purchased with their safety in mind. And for the record, I'm like 58 pounds. But I digress. Nick and Lauren made up for all of that in a big way with this stop in White Sands National Monument, NM.

That morning started off terribly. We had camped in some cheesy RV park in Carlsbad, NM that was advertised as "family friendly" (note: this translates into "there will be lots of screaming kids and a petting zoo consisting of one sad miniature donkey"). Genius 1 and Genius 2 had forgotten to check the weather forecast and at some point during the night I was rudely jostled awake as Lauren attempted to shove me into her sleeping bag for warmth. It had dropped into the 20s overnight. When the alarm went off we awoke, shivering, before sunrise to find my water bowl frozen. While Nick and Lauren packed up the gear in the pre-dawn darkness, I tried desperately to create a suitable nest for myself out of blankets and Nick's favorite sweatshirt in the back seat. My life is just one trial after the next. I was asleep again before they started the engine.

Three or so hours later I woke up from this great dream where I was chasing a cat who was in turn chasing a squirrel to find myself surrounded by a bizarre landscape. The sky was an intensely bright blue and the ground appeared to be covered with snow, looking not unlike some of the winter days we used to get when we lived in CT. But there was something definitely different about this snow. It looked very fine and dry, kind of like the dust that covers Nick's guitar that he has owned longer than I've been alive and still doesn't know how to play.


These are little picnic huts.

Still in my embarrassing shackles, I cautiously got out of the car (cautious not so much because of the unfamiliar territory, but because I spied this sign on the way in).


In case you can't make that out it says that there may be unexploded munitions lying about, this being just outside of the White Sands Missile Range.

My timidness did not persist. This was all sand, but it was soft and cold and wonderful. I read on one of the placards that it is mostly gypsum, which is really a limestone salt, left over from when this place was an ancient coral reef. Lauren and I took turns pulling each other up the dunes at first.





Some of the signs said that dogs had to be on leashes, but we made an executive decision. Our spot was isolated enough that a little free time for me wouldn't cause any harm.


Who's gonna know?


I'm freeeeeeeee!


Those are the three of our footprints. This picture was my idea. I have a very deep, creative side.

Nick and Lauren had rented a sled from the gift shop too. Check out this video montage I put together (make sure sound is on):



We capped off the fun with a lovely family portrait.


Stupid harness.

I don't know what's next for me on this trip, but my faith in these two has been somewhat restored. I drank about a liter of water to wash down all the sand I ate and then collapsed in my nest, exhausted, quickly drifting off into a deep sleep. White Sands... (snore).... is.... (twitch, twitch) ... awesome.