"If the very old will remember, the very young will listen"
~ Chief Dan George
This will be my first big trip out to La Joya, New Mexico
with my brother Gilbert.
This trip is
about family ties to our heritage, and specifically to honor our grandparents,
Pablo and Alejandra Griego.
We plan to
lay a brass plaque on the petrified tree brought to the La Joya Cemetery
by our dad long ago.
Gilbert designed the plaque which reads:
"Pablo Griego
Nacio Jan. 25, 1841 Murio - 1915"
"Alejandra
Griego Nacio Apr. 26, 1866 Murio - 1948"
Day 1. Up at 5am with a cup of coffee and two zucanni
muffins that Denise made from her garden.
My bike is packed and ready to go.
I'm anxious and before I know it, I'm knocking at Gilbert's front
door. Sally, Melissa, and baby Darin
are there and we talk over eggs, green chili, bacon, tortillas, and
coffee. I did not see the brass plaque
because I knew it was already packed and I wanted to see it for the first time
in La Joya. We leave on our bikes about
10:30am and after 560 miles arrive at Ash Fork, our 1st camp. Gilbert sees his first satellite and so our
camp has a name. Coyotes howl
nearby. Satellite Camp is a few miles
south of Ash Fork on USFS land. We
build a nice fire and boil some chicken and noodles.
My camera is dead so no pictures can be taken. Luckily, Gilbert has a disposal camera which
we now use. I am very worried as I need
my camera to document our celebration in La Joya. From the road, I call Elva to see if I can use her camera but not
sure if her chip is the same as mine.
She offers her.
Day 2.
Breakfast at McDonald's. Our
morning ride is cool and refreshing. At
Camp Verde, we drop our jackets and helmets. We are now heading East on highway
260 to higher elevations and scenic riding, all at a slower pace. We are alert for deer and elk. Heavy rain near Show Low and for the 1st
time put on our rain gear. Several
bikers stop to seek shelter and we leave first. I feel the storm will only grow stronger and sometimes its better
to act, so we push on and it turns out to be a good decision -- clear weather
ahead. In my mirror, the dark rain
clouds loom.
We stop in McNary, Arizona.
There is a sign for fried bread but we do not find it. We go to where our uncle Bennie lived years
ago near the lumber mill. Gilbert takes
a piece of wood as a family reminder of his house we once visited as kids. We stop by the McNary Post Office for a
picture. We see heavy rain clouds
towards Alpine so we take the higher route via Springerville and Quemado. The scenery is spectacular.
Major rain is now here just after entering New Mexico.
We try to seek shelter under a pinion pine
tree when Gilbert spots a blue tourist sign for a picnic area.
He has excellent eyesight which will help
us along the trail.
We immediately seek
shelter under the roof of a picnic spot.
We wait but decide to get into our rain gear again and keep moving forward;
the clouds are dark towards Quemado.
We buy groceries and get water for our camp at the small
General Store in Datil, New Mexico. We
buy two huge T-bone steaks for dinner.
We go back 3 miles for our next camp (USFS 66). I camped here last year and it is
special. We built a fire and find the
same angle iron that I used a year ago and it becomes our hot plate. We cook our T-bones over the open fire on a
small grill. No one else around.
Gilbert listens to my story about the "voices" I heard the
last time I camped here alone. I named
this spot, "Whispering Pines Camp."
We restart the fire, pack our gear, and have coffee. We have a huge breakfast at Datil general
store. On another trip here, I met a
trucker who looked and sounded like John Wayne. He was from Texas, "rode a bike years ago" he said and
a real talker.
We gas up and head south on State Highway 1 to San Antonio
and then on to Fort Craig. It is
hot. San Antonio is where our uncle
Valentin Moya was stationed in the CCC"s.
Later, there will be a complete chapter written about Valentin as part
of our family history.
Fort Craig is 30 miles south of Socorro, the last 7 miles
are on a wash-board dirt road. On a bike, this is no fun.
It is hot but that soon disappears as we
explore the remnants of Fort Craig.
Gilbert hears about how our great, grandfather Valentin Moya and our
grandfather Pablo Griego fought as Army Volunteers in the Civil War.
They were on the Union side and New Mexico
was a Territory then.
They served about
3-6 months between 1861-1862.
They were
tough, proud New Mexicans - both rode horses I hear.
We explore the visitor center and a nice cowboy from
Missouri talks with us; he is the caretaker and tells us that his daughter
lives in Bakersfield. We explain that
our family from La Joya served as Army volunteers here; he nods in
appreciation. Back 7 miles back on the bumpy dirt road. We now jump on Interstate 25 and head for
Abo.
We stop on the freeway long enough for Gilbert to see La
Joya. This is his first view of La Joya
on this trip. We reach Abo and go to
Robert and Elva's place which they fondly call The Ranch. Kiko, their
guard dog, is very aggressive towards Gilbert, and later me. Robert has to tie him up.
We take a walk down by the arroyo and go to visit Ernie and
Elessao Cisneros and talk.
Ernie
Cisneros, brother to George Benavidez, grew up in Barstow.
She talks about the "Victory"
homes and the "Cracker Box" houses.
She said that we lived in the Crackerbox houses.
Elva and Robert have prepared a feast for us
-- beans, rice, red chile, sopapillas, huevos rancheros, and of course ice cold
Corona's.
It begins to rain lightly and then a big downpour with
lightning and thunder. Did we bring the
rain? We talk until 1a.m., everything
from A-Z. Earlier I show them several
of the genealogy charts, one on the Moya side and one on the Griego side. They ask many questions and we are all
beginning to understand our ancestors.
Robert Esquibel adds clarity to family relationships. He is from La Joya too.
Gilbert and I sleep on a big blow-up mattress. The skies are clear and bright and perhaps
the brightest that I have ever seen. I
reach up and touch the big dipper.
Since Elva is leaving for Barstow on Sunday, she requests a
morning gathering versus the evening one and BBQ that we were planning. We agree and the Pablo and Alejandra Griego
celebration is changed to the morning.
It will be cooler as well. Elva
loans me her camera and I use my memory chip from my camera that is not
working. This saves me - what a
relief! She shows me how to use her
camera.
We go to Belen and see Tudie Romero at Tabot Lumberyard
where he works. Tudie and Gilbert have not seen each other since dad's funeral
in 1995. I listened to their good stories:
the gay bar, working on cars that didn’t work, Winchell's drive-through,
and on and on.
They were happy. Tudie
was given Geraldine and Valentin's plaques by the church in La Joya.
They had found them and wanted to give them to
a family member.
I share with him what we now know about Valentin and I give
him a copy of the Valentin video that I made in honor of mom. We explain why we are going to La Joya and
invite him to our ceremony on Saturday morning. He works until 1pm but says that he will join us later. Later never comes. We buy groceries for our
camping and our morning celebration (danish rolls, glazed donuts, cantaloupe,
and coffee).
We drive by Bosque to see where Tio Carlos and Tita
lived.
Just beyond their house, I see
two road runners side by side; a first for me seeing two at one time.
Our mom loved the roadrunner and got so
excited when we saw one driving out in New Mexico.
I share with Gilbert mom's story about traveling with her
father, Silvestre Moya by horse and wagon from La Joya to Jarales carrying
their wheat for trade. She once told me
"I loved it and it was an adventure because we took several days to make
the journey." We note that their journey was about 24 miles one way. We
take our time, reflecting on earlier days in Tio Carlos backyard as kids, loved
it!
Veguita Trading Post on Highway 304 is just ahead on the
right and our last chance for food and gas before La Joya. We buy two big blocks of ice that we serve
as our refrigerator in La Joya. Gilbert's
Godfather, Silvestre Cisneros lives behind the store. Gilbert wants to meet him and we pass on the word that we are in
the area and will come back later. We find Griego road and take pictures. How far is this from Rio Puerco that one
sees on Hwy 25 approaching Bernardo?
Were earlier Griegos' living here we wonder? We stop for pictures at
this historic Boys Ranch Sign. To me, this means that I am so close to La Joya that I can hardly stand to wait for
the last 6 miles of our journey. La
Joya is like a magnet; it is always pulling me there.
Although Gilbert has been to this spot before, I welcome him
to Jewels Camp and he gets acquainted.
We clean up camp a bit and gather firewood. We set up our refrigerator inside the house where it is cooler. "Gilbert, this is the spot where mom said I was born," I say pointing to a bed built into the adobe walls. The semi-frozen chicken that we bought in
Belen is slow cooking over an open fire.
Buck, Marcello's horse, sees us and says hello.
That evening, Gilbert asks me what Jewels Camp means to
me.
My eyebrows go up, it means so
much.
I respond that Jewels Camp to me
is "camping in mom and dad's back yard with my family.
I feel at home, at ease, it's fun, and it
brings me back to my roots."
Gilbert then gives me a gift, wrapped carefully to not damage it over
our 1,200 trip.
It is a beautiful
wooden sign made from Philippine Mahogany.
It is about an inch thick, about 5"x14" with Jewel's Camp
inscribed.
This kind gesture was
overwhelming to me.
Gilbert said I
could do what I wanted with it or take it home.
My decision was made in the blink of an eye and I told him that
this belonged to us all and it would stay in La Joya.
We then had the task of selecting a spot. The tree with the saddle had already been
taken and the tree next to the fire place served to hang our cups and other
eating utensils. Then I saw the tree
where Tudie had sat under on an earlier trip and its spot was set. We then placed four screws into the tree at
the fork of two trunks to hang the sign and it looked as if it had been there a
hundred years. Gilbert then said that
the "sign also represented how our family is being held together by
knowing our past; that your genealogy work is pulling our family together. That our journey to La Joya to honor mom and
dad by placing a simple marker for Pablo and Alejandra Griego had come to mean
so much" -- I was taken back to his sincerity and insight to what I felt
in my heart and soul.
I had not yet seen the brass plaque, although Gilbert asked
me along the way if I wanted to and I did not, but now we were at Jewel Camp
and I could not wait to see it.
The
plaque was simply beautiful -- my eyes seemed to be blinded by it as it
reflected everything around it.
I could
see the trees above me as well as my own reflection.
It was indeed special and its simplicity reflected our culture; I
knew then that Pablo and Alejandra would be pleased.
I had already felt mom's pride on this journey.
Step One.
We ride our bikes, or as Gilbert calls them scooters, to the
cemetery. As my own reminder of this
short trip to the cemetery, I ride on the center yellow line of the road, much
like the funeral procession of cars with their lights on, except we ride
motorcycles.
Step Two. Gilbert bends the brass plate to match the curve of the petrified
tree.
He continually bends the plate in
various places until it fits well against the petrified tree.
I watch him; he is quiet, thoughtful, and
deliberate in his work.
Step Three.
Gilbert was perfectly prepared for the 5 minutes of time that we had
before the special epoxy set. He had
his rags to clean excess glue and ropes to tie the brass plate to the petrified
tree. We did a test run and we were
ready.
Step Five.
Within our five minute of time, we placed the brass plate at the
exact spot we chose and secured it with our ropes. We stood back and in silence just looked at it….no words to
describe what we felt at that moment.
We took a branch from a nearby bush, and as the Indians do, we removed
our footprints. We were ready for
tomorrow morning's celebration.
Step Six.
Gilbert goes to the cemetery at 6am to remove the rope and to assure
that the brass plate is secure while I prepare Jewel Camp for our visitors from
Abo.
Elva and Robert were our guests for
breakfast.
After eating, we all drive
to the cemetery.
We see family graves
and reminisce -- "look there is Esperidion Griego, Silvestre Moya,
Geraldine, Mia, Tio Wille Romero, as well as many, many others.
Step Seven.
We all stand directly in front of the petrified tree that now has the
brass plate upon it. The brass plate is
about 4"x7". This was a very
powerful moment to honor our grandparents.
These are my words spoken that day:
"God created this tree thousands and thousands of years
ago, and volcanic forces baked it into stone, and yet it seems alive
today. Pablo and Alejandra Griego have
been dead now for many, many years but today, we honor them with this beautiful, simple plaque. Without them,
we would not be standing here today."
Our ceremony lasted about 30 minutes, yet we spent two hours
at the La Joya Cemetery .......
seven steps for seven brothers and sisters. Here are the family pictures of that important day.
We quickly break camp and leave.
The smell of rain is heavy in the air. The rain comes down in
buckets and the roads are flooded, rocks and bushes flow through each dip in
the road.
We are going directly into
the storm but we want to see if Gilbert's godfather, Silvestre Cisneros is
home.
At the heaviest moment of the
rain, we take shelter under the roof of the gas station, thunder and lighting
is all around us.
We did not have our
rain gear on so we are wet, yet I have never felt so alive. The people at the
store can not believe we arrived with the flash flooding.
Where did you come from they asked?
"La Joya," we say proudly.
Gilbert asks to see Silvestre Cisneros but he is not home
and has gone to church and likely somewhere to eat and visit. Gilbert writes him a note and leaves it with
the store clerk. It turns out that the
store clerk knows Enereo Griego and we talk.
Then, the people in line hear us and say that they are, or are married
to Griegos'. We meet Manuel Chavez
whose mother was a Griego. He quickly
offers to let us stay at his home in Las Nutrias to get out of
the rain. Then Celeste and her husband
Aubrey Tucker say that she is Silvestre's granddaughter and is a Cisneros
(maiden name). They both ride bikes and
offer a place to come if we ever have bike problems. People seem to know
mom and dad and quickly offer their help and are very friendly. Then Mr. Abeyta from La Joya stops for gas
and says hello. He tells Gilbert that
they share the same first name. He also
tell me more about Edwina and her Griego family background -- excellent! The
rain stops and we leave quickly for Socorro, Magdalena, Datil, Apache Creek,
Alpine, McNary, and then Heber where we plan to camp.
Gilbert spots a junkyard as we enter the small village of
Aragon and wants to stop because he sees an old Chevy truck, 1936 he
thinks. A man, who calls himself Ernest
Aragon comes out and says that it is a 1937 Chevy and he parked it there years
ago but his daughter does not want to sell it.
It has a tree that has grown through the bed. The town Aragon was named after his grandfather. He does not know Sammy Aragon but says that
he has a 1st cousin who lives in Los Lunas; I'll check with Sammy another
time. His granddaughter Blanka takes
in every word we speak; she is about eight. It
looks to me that he wants to join us on our trip, despite his wife calling him
to come and eat.
We stop for gas and we are wet from the rain. It rains hard from Socorro to
Magdalena. At the gas station, a man
pumping gas into his truck says that he passed us at Lemitar and saw that we
were wet. We make small talk and we
tell him about our trip, staying in La Joya and so on. "My name is Nicolas Baca and I live in
Quemado" he says "And if you need help, stop and see me." I offer to trade my bike for his truck and
he laughs. A very nice man, dressed in
western attire, and straight-up New Mexican.
We stop for a break and coffee to wake us up at Apache Creek, but they have none at the small store.
We make small talk with a young guy who is cooking in the backyard and
soon several others come out to talk.
They offer drinks and suggest we camp there, but thank them and explain
that we still have a ways to go. Just
before Apache Creek, I saw my third road runner I tell them. The older Apache comes closer and asks about the three roadrunners. He intently listens then holding three fingers to his temple speaks,
"Seeing three roadrunners in one day is a sign of good luck."
Cool, high elevation (8,500') riding. Ideal place for elk, deer, and bear. We see hundreds of horses in the meadow; all
running freely. I have never seen that
many horses at one time.
We stop for gas and I asked a man how far is it to Heber as
we are already getting tired and must reach camp soon. This guy is a talker and wants to tell us
all about the area which is very helpful but we need to get going. I tell him that I need to go buy some
groceries. We get a couple of hot dogs
and some beer. When we return, he spots
our supplies and says gruffly, "Do you know what we call that....a six-course
dinner with a side of jackrabbit".
He was a rough-looking character and made us laugh. He explains that he is on his way to
Illinois in the morning.
It is getting late and we do not make Heber.
I tell Gilbert that Keith and I found a camp
spot this side of Heber on forest service land and that we should try to find
it.
He tells me that he saw hundreds of
elk grazing and a deer buck and doe too. I tell him that I didn't as I was
looking for a campsite.
It is getting
dark when I see the road and we quickly went to the spot where Keith and I
camped last year.
We build a nice fire
and have beef burritos with our tortillas.
It looked like it would rain, so we made small lean-twos with our ground
cover.
Later it cleared up, so we slept
on the ground as normal.
We gave this
spot its name, hence "Keith's Camp".
We have a nice big breakfast in Heber; no rain last
night. We are off for Payson, Camp
Verde, Flagstaff, and then Laughlin. We
are getting 50-60 mpg -- excellent! In
the café, a guy tells us that he rides a Harley. He recently had an accident on it when he hit two elk. He broke many bones but the worst thing was
the elk tried to gore him with their horns while he was still on the ground
hurt. Ouch!
We stop for gas and I pay with my credit card. The store clerk recognizes the last name and
asked if I know Marty Griego or his son Josh.
She says that they are from Phoenix.
I tell her about Tio Ben Griego and a possible connection; I leave my
name and phone number just in case.
It is 116 degrees in Laughlin. We see the Colorado River and camp at Davis Camp Park directly in
front of the river. We have a fire pit,
picnic table, and overhead shelter.
We see another biker arrive, looking hot and searching for a campsite. We invite him to our camp and he
quickly sets up his tent. His name is
Guy Gottle from Santa Rosa and he is a school teacher. He keeps a journal too and leaves his email address. Gilbert goes swimming to cool off and I go
to the casinos for some fun. I join him
later for an evening swim and the water is on the cool side but so
refreshing. We have a nice fire and
have spam, beans, tortillas, chips, donuts, and most everything else leftover. Several campsites down, we hear
some good Mexican music but they are keeping it down to not disturb us. We walk over and let them know that like
their music and could they please turn it up a bit so that we can hear, and
they do.
We are up at 5am for a quick get-away while the sun is low
and cool. We give our donuts to the
caretaker on our way out.
We split-up at Dagget; Gilbert continue to Barstow on I-40
and I take the Dagget cut-off to I-15 and then Hwy 58 to Bakersfield. My trip with Keith last year was special but
this was the best bike ride to New Mexico for me. Gilbert was a great companion and a good camper. I give Gilbert a hug and I'm off.
I stop by the cemetery to visit mom and dad and to tell them
about our journey and our celebration for Pablo and Alejandra. Gilbert had given me the rest of his water
in Dagget to drink on my trip home; I have a good drink and sprinkled the rest
on their graves. I sit on the bench next
to their graves and lean up against the tree, tired from a long ride with miles
to go. I feel so relaxed, and for a moment I thought that I was sitting next to our tree in Jewels Camp. Long miles will do that to you.
The trip from Laughlin was long, some 12 hours and 576 miles
to Three Rivers, arriving at 5pm, after one week of traveling. Our bikes ran well and our average 50 mpg
was great! Two brothers, two wheels - La Joya bound.
The odometer records 2,322 miles . . . . .
