Ned the Goat Travels to the American Southwest for Spring Break '07

Silver City, New Mexico, land of a thousand lakes! I watched with glee as we passed through this moist oasis. We’d been driving all morning, and Silver City served as a welcome reminder that our final destination, the Gila Wilderness Area, was only a short distance away. I was traveling in the back seat of my owners' red Subaru Outback, listening sedately to the meandering guitar playing of John Prine on the stereo, when a voice from the front seat interrupted my reverie.

"Well," said Harry Stevens, who had purchased me at a state fair almost a year ago. “We’d better stop for gas soon, or we’ll roll into the wilderness area on fumes.”

“As long as we make it,” replied his wife, Melissa.

“Fair enough, but in a few days I would also like to make it out of there.”

Harry gassed up the car, instructing us all to use the facilities before we departed. Our campground, he warned, would take another hour to reach. Less than ten minutes out of Silver City, the landscape changed dramatically. Deserts became hills, shrubs became trees, and dry land gave way to a small but noticeable river valley. The landscape was so serene I almost fell asleep.

“Shit!” yelled Harry suddenly. “I forgot to buy cigarettes!”

Human beings can be very funny. While I would most certainly drive backward for a few minutes to eat a shrub, my owner decided rather quickly to return to Silver City, a distance of 30 miles, just to buy a few small twigs, which he would later light on fire and inhale. Didn’t he know our campfire would have plenty of smoke?

After a brief delay and five to 500 roadside photo ops, we reached the campground. By this time, it had begun to get dark, so we pitched our tents and made dinner. Harry and Melissa discussed politics while I busied myself drinking from a plastic box of dark liquid. The substance, which tasted like bitter grape juice, dribbled out of a small spigot near the bottom of the container. I don’t know what was in this box, but after drinking little more than two cups of it, I was struck by the sudden commitment that I was an excellent dancer.

We went on a hike the next day, inspecting strange patterns on the rock faces called petroglyphs. Apparently, hundreds of years ago, a race of humans put the designs there as a way of expressing themselves. I tasted a variety of the petroglyphs, and they were all delicious. These humans must have been very bored to wipe their best foods all over the walls of their houses.

That afternoon, we spent a few hours in some very nice hot springs. Harry hopped in naked, which seemed to shock Melissa. I wonder if she noticed that I had been naked since we arrived…

The Gilas Wilderness Area was a fine place to visit. A few loud tourists made the experience a bit less fun, but we ignored them fairly easily and minded our own business. At one point, however, I couldn’t help but overhear their conversation. They were debating whether Spearhead was “hippy rap.” I say yes, but many disagree.