Marcos & Jaime go to White Castle {or Castillo Blanco} - Part 6

For a moment, the ball to my chain thought he'd made it to his homeland.
Just kidding...

I am talking about New Mexico!

We barely made it into the great state before we came across a cool-as-heck travel center; specifically Russell's Travel Center.

It was night time, we were tired... this was the perfect fix!

 

Besides drinks, gum, post cards and deodorant - it had a MUSEUM!!
For reals.

Photo Dump!

Skurry!!

 

Well, hello Marylin!

This "thing" below actually had a talking voice that said weird things.  

Something about how awkward it was for us to be watching him.

Um. HE left the door open.

LOVE at FIRST SIGHT!!

(the car, not the dude)

Check out the bathrooms...

Well, I guess I should clarify - the ENTRANCE to the bathrooms.

After grabbing a few things, we were on our way!
Marcos had scoured the maps looking for a good way home. There a few ways into the Phoenix area and most had us go through winding, steep roads. Yuck.

So, he found a SHORT CUT.
dum, dum, dummmmm.
Right?

The issue? The gas station at the opening to the shortcut was CLOSED. Even though it was completely lit up - there were parking gates that were closed. No one was there. That should have been our first clue.

The car said we had about 70 miles left of our tank. We couldn't turn back.
We took the short cut. And prayed.
It was PITCH black.
And scary.
Thank gosh we couldn't see our surroundings - it was probably crazy.
We had no idea how long this short cut was. Exactly.

You know what I just thought of, as I am trying to make this part intense?!  We are home, so evidently we survived. Darn. Sorry for the spoiler.

As Marcos and I watched the tank drain and the light come on, we were super quiet. Abby was asleep. Would we make it?! (grr, of course we do.)  We passed downed signs, curious elk and not much else.

Just as we thought the car was going to stall, my stud made it to the end of the long road (aka shortcut)... It took us into a small town.

A small SCARY town.

Have you ever heard of Quemada, New Mexico?

Us neither.

OMG. I just learned that it means "burned" in Spanish. Dum, Dum, Dummmmm!

Marcos and I were able to breath again when we saw a gas station (using the term loosely - hey, it had gas!). The building was locked up tight. No lights. But the pumps were on!

As we gassed up, Abby awoke. Both of us concluded that every small, scary town, ever talked about or filmed was mushed together into Quemada. Abby says she was just waiting for an old man, complete with overalls, no shirt and a toothless grin to come out and get us.

The town was DEAD.

This was our view from the front seat, while Marcos filled up the tank:

As we rushed to get out of Quemada, we noticed a building off to the side, where there had to be at least 40 cars parked outside. Very Stephen King and the Hills have Eyes-ish.

But alas, we survived.
Which is how I will be able to bring you tomorrow's conclusion!


Boo!