Day 4: The Bats in the Hat

First thing’s first: Earl will return. She’s been in a bit of overload, but today we talked about how important writing down your memories are, and she realizes how quick her memories even from yesterday are fading. So fingers crossed. She did absolutely love all of the comments, and she will respond! And blog again!

Today was…it was long. We drove from just outside of Fort Worth, TX, to Carlsbad, NM. Here’s the thing, though: The speed limit for the bulk of the way was 75. Seventy-five. Leadfoot here spent half the day in a haze of squee and speed.

Yes, Mom and Dad, I’m still driving safely. Cross my heart.

This is the first day I’ve been at all tired, likely because last night was just so late of a night for several reasons. But I made it, and I made it without too much struggle. Partly because my kid rocks and more than happily went into “ask Mom nine million questions in a row” in an effort to get me through The Tired. We sang some more, we recorded more GoPro video, we looked for license plates and listened to the first couple of chapters of “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” as read by Stephen Fry.

We stretched our legs in Abilene and indulged in a bit of whimsy. First up was World’s Biggest Buffalo Skull at Frontier Texas, which we found totally by accident. I was lured in by these huge, awesome guys, and Earl spotted the skull as we parked.

I tried to get her to lay down in the skull, but that was an adamant no go.

From there, we hopped down the street to a really cool park featuring bronze statues of Dr. Seuss characters. Earl attempted to interview them all while I filmed. It was a quick stop, but just the kind of quirky, silly thing we both needed. (We also apparently need to read Yurtle the Turtle because neither of us could remember anything about it. Oops.)

The Cat in the Hat was there, too, and we have video with him, but still photos hadn’t occurred. I blame a total lack of chocolate.

We left Abilene and turned off of our trusty interstates onto the highways of the west. Wide open spaces and windmills. Hundreds of windmills. Huge windmills.

Long, nearly deserted straight roads with 75mph speed limits lend themselves to lots of time to admire. And, boy, did I admire. The puffy white clouds were beautiful, the farms lush, my child content, and the fuel mileage superb. It doesn’t get much better than this.

I’d done something a bit reckless the night before: I’d reserved our room through Hotwire. I have no clue how much time I spent looking at hotels in Carlsbad, NM, but the time was sufficient so that when Hotwire gave me the original booking price of the room ($249/night) and the amenities, I knew it had to be one of about 3 hotels I’d been psychically trying to convince to lower their prices enough for me to book in. Hotwire’s deal had the room at just over $100, which was way more manageable than $249, yet it still took me half an hour to go through with it.

Lo and behold, our Hotwire hotel was my first pick.

After eons of flat and fast, we wheeled into Carlsbad and checked into the hotel. At which point Earl pronounced (for the first time of the day) that she could live in New Mexico forever. Yeah, our $100 Hotwire room is that good.

I managed to pry her out of the room to head toward Carlsbad Caverns for the nightly bat flights. See, at Carlsbad, hundreds of thousands of bats spiral out of one of the caves at sunset and head 30 or 40 miles away in search of bugs and water.

I don’t know why they fly all that distance when they really could just go at all the bugs in the amphitheater. Holy itchiness, batman!

No electronics are allowed at the flight, so there are no photos or video. Just picture 750,000 bats spiraling like large, awkward butterflies out of a huge natural opening in the earth, creating a veritable tornado of hungry bats before dart-loping over the hills in search of water in the desert.

I had seen the bats fly over 15 years ago and couldn’t wait to show Earl. I’d hoped she’d be impressed. I’d prayed she’d be impressed.

We stayed until it was too dark to see them anymore. The crowd was quiet as could be, and literally hundreds of the bats flew 20 feet over our heads. One flew close enough that I instinctually ducked and Earl gasped, “Woah!”

Twenty or so minutes in, she was getting a little restless. “Can we go?” she whispered straight down my ear canal.

I shook my head. “Not yet. Let’s sit here and see what God’s done just a little bit longer.”

She took my hand, leaned her head on my shoulder, and said, “Okay, Mama.”

I sit here now, Earl snoring softly beside me in the bed, and realize that that moment? That was just about as perfect as they come.

The last four days have been riddled with those moments, and they keep getting sweeter.

Yep, I think we’re on the right path.