Riding the bike out of Santa Fe, heading north to Ghost Ranch Conference Center, I left cell phone and internet service behind. I was a little concerned about the one+mile dirt/gravel road into Ghost Ranch, but it was fine – not an issue on the VStrom but I’m glad I wasn’t on my ’04 Yamaha FJR. The gravel was a bit loose, and the tires squirted here and there, but it was all OK. I set up my tent in the campground and walked around, finding old friends also there for the week’s conference. My first night on the ground wasn’t especially comfortable; the high-tech sleeping pad was first too hard so I let air out. Too much air, of course, so I still wasn’t comfortable. And then I “discovered” the NM no-see-um’s. Somewhat in size like the hot gnats in Florida but they pack something that feels like rattle snake venom, to which I am amazingly sensitive. I woke up with 8 whelps the size of golf balls – red, itchy, hot golf balls. Being ever-so-slightly stubborn, I resisted the temptation to move up on the Mesa to the full accommodation housing. The second night, I took a virtual bath in Deep Woods Off and adjusted the sleeping pad and slept well. The red cliffs of northern New Mexico shed a pink dust of cake-flour consistency that seeps through anything and covers everything. The tightly zipped tent was no match, and all that I brought was soon covered in pale pink grit. I slept in the tent 4 nights, then bolted on the bike down to Albuquerque on Thurs morning to catch a plane to Indianapolis. After serial flight delays, I finally arrived at the 5 star motel in Indiana after midnight. Interesting contrast to the days preceding – I was there as the plenary speaker at the Indiana Juvenile Judges Conference and was to make a 90 minute presentation to 150 Judges. My room was with the other judges – on one of two floors with access restricted by card key. The room had all of the upscale amenities, including a bath robe hanging in the closet. There were no bugs or red clay. The clothing contrast also made me smile. I had to look professional for this Conference, rather than look like a biker chick sleeping on the ground with pink dust and biting bugs, but there’s not much hangar space on my bike. So I’d rolled up my good clothes, stuffed them in the shoe box with my dress shoes, and shipped them to myself at Ghost Ranch. There I packed them in the saddle bags for the trip to Indiana. At the hotel, I shook them out and was pleased with the result. However, I was NOT pleased to find I’d left my hairbrush in the tent. The only brush I had was my toothbrush. After grumbling a bit, I called the front desk and the kind lady brought me up a black comb in a plastic sleeve – a comb slightly thicker than a piece of paper and light-years ahead of my toothbrush in hairstyling potential. Friday morning, I washed my hair, blew it dry, and beat it into submission with the black comb. With dress clothes and makeup, I completed my Superman-in-the-phone booth transition, and stepped off the elevator looking somewhat judicial.
I felt the talk went well. A group of 150 judges can be expected to be stoic and academic; I appreciate their willingness to engage in open discussions of issues unique to the judiciary working in juvenile, such as the emotional impact on the Judge of hearing traumatic problems as part of a routine workday, and the frustrations of not being able to adequately address various issues of humanity. I hope I left them with ideas to ponder.
I finished at noon on Friday in Indianapolis and flew back to Albuquerque where I’d left my bike and helmet. Saturday morning I left the motel early and arrived back at Ghost Ranch in time for the 8:30 a.m. program. I was only in Indianapolis for 15 hours – amazing what modern-day travel allows you to do.
I reluctantly left Ghost Ranch on Sunday – it’s such an amazing place. I continue to be technologically challenged so I’ll only post pictures at www.facebook.com/Public Secrets and Justice.