Joe, Bryn and I have settled back into our Michigan lives after returning from a month on the road. We’d driven through much of this great country before ending up at the shoreline of the Pacific Ocean. The best part was the time we spent with our extended family and their two beautiful children in Pasadena, California.
The whole trip went just fine- except....Life threw in two not-so-great experiences, perhaps to keep us from getting complacent.
Take Santa Fe, for example. I’d always wanted to visit that city, which is famous for its lovely Spanish architecture and huge colony of artists. Also, as it’s located on a plateau 5,000 feet above sea level, the starry night sky is clear, and glorious.
What we found, on the human level, was unsettling.
Here’s what happened.
The Santa Fe Humane Society, located out in the high desert, has set aside 14 acres as a fenced dog park. Santa Fe residents bring their dogs there so they can run flat out, never noticing they’re confined. The hilly, cactus-dry terrain disguises the unobtrusive wire fence. There are wonderful trails; dogs and their humans love to explore the seemingly endless space.
After moving into our dog-friendly hotel the manager offered directions to this dog park. What fun! In under twenty minutes we were there. Our eager Bryn hopped out of the van, “Well,” I mused, ‘we’re a long way from the city; there’s literally nothing out here but desert for as far as the eye can see. Why bother to lock up...”
A lady leashing her dog on the other side of the fence heard my comment and spoke up immediately.
“I wouldn’t leave it open, you two, and here’s why. While everyone is monitoring their dogs inside this fence and chatting, a ‘spotter’ drives in, gets out and moves down the row of cars to look in windows for anything of value on seats- computers, purses, whatever. He relays the selected car’s make, color and license plate information to them on his cell phone. Right away they drive in too, like regular folks, but take a huge pile driver hammer to the chosen car’s driver’s side window, pull open the door, grab the valuables, and in thirty seconds, they’re gone. I witnessed it happen yesterday. So, put anything you care about out of sight. Oh- and car alarms don’t faze them at all. They know this place is far away from any immediate help.”
We were astonished. Out here? In the middle of nowhere? Near posh Santa Fe? But the lady looked grim. “Trust me. Hide what you care about and lock up.” Then she muttered, “ For all the good it will do....”
Unsettled, we locked and armed the van after hiding our computers, GPS, my backpack and various little purchases we’d made during our trip.
Bryn loved the popular dog park; she and perhaps twelve other canines dashed about, their spines bent into curves as they flew across the immense area. There were lots of dusty trails that owners could jog along as well. But, for this visit I mostly remained close to the car while Joe had a hike and played with Bryn.
No thieves came.
Run out, she slept soundly that night at our little hotel.
The next day dawned clear and cool; after a nice walk around the hotel area with Bryn we piled into the van, intending to explore the city more thoroughly and then leave in a day or two. (The previous afternoon, after we found our hotel, we’d driven to the city’s thriving artists’ colony to view gorgeous pottery, paintings, weavings, jewelry, handmade furniture, and lots of fascinating sculpture. I itched to own one small one in particular; a boy sitting outside with pad and pencil in hand, sketching; the detail was incredible. But the price was huge. $2500.00. 
No way.
Art in Santa Fe isn’t cheap. But we saw tourists come prepared to spend their money on some really lovely work.)
Anyway, after a quick hamburger lunch it was time to take Bryn back to the SFHS’s dog park. Then we’d leave her at the hotel to snooze while we carried on being tourists.
But, as we drove up the dusty road to the park, flashing red and blue lights caught our attention. Uh-oh: a police car. There’d been another smash and grab just a few minutes ago by the bold car thieves. A disconsolate late twenties tourist couple were speaking to the police. Their car sat amid glass rubble, and everything inside was gone: camera, computers, GPS, two cherished old books, their cell phones, and even their jackets.
Horrified and then sad, we exercised Bryn and drove back to the hotel. I went to the lobby for a paper and overheard two men talking as they walked behind me to the elevator.
“...I was stopped at the light downtown, when suddenly- before I could grasp what the hell was happening- two men tried to wrench open the car door and hijack the car- and maybe kidnap or rob me- who knows! Both were screaming in Spanish to open up- right there at the light, for God’s sake, with other people in their cars right behind me witnessing the whole thing!” He snorted. “Those men didn’t care!” Then, in a softer voice- “Thank God I always lock the car when I’m driving!”
“Well, I just accelerated out of there as fast as I could- ran the damn light! It was hard to shake them off! I’m so glad my wife wasn’t with me.” His voice was unsteady.
His friend shook his head and pressed the elevator button. “Yeah, I know. It’s getting way crazy in this town, that’s for sure...”
The first fellow nodded. “I didn’t bother reporting it- the cops would just throw up their hands. They’re overwhelmed.”
After a one-minute discussion back in our room we cancelled our reservation, packed our stuff and left Santa Fe, feeling relief. Three crimes- one we’d almost witnessed ourselves- in less than 24 hours, were too much.
Color us gone.
Later that evening in a comfortable hotel in Arizona Joe looked up the Santa Fe crime rate; it has increased by almost 500% in the last year. New Mexico is overrun by illegals, and local law enforcement simply can’t cope with the magnitude of the problem. The cost of hiring adequate numbers of police is prohibitive, and would take months, or years. Recruitment is difficult: who’d want that job in that area?
And the second ‘downer’ thing on our trip? On the way home, just before leaving Nebraska, we found ourselves part of a huge line of cars and trucks backed up for miles on the expressway. We sat. And sat. Eventually the line moved along at about two miles an hour. Up ahead a giant electrified sign attached to an overpass read:
Major Accident Ahead;
Expect Long Delay
Eventually we arrived at the site- and gulped. An entire semi truck was tipped onto its side, and the huge trailer’s steel side was burnt to black. The cab, except for the shattered windows, looked relatively intact, so maybe the truck driver had survived. There was hardly a trace of why the accident happened- we saw only a million chunks of charred metal scattered around the scene. The fire fighters were gathering up hoses and sweeping up, while police were doing their best to get the traffic moving again.
Later that evening our hotel clerk told us that he’d heard the radio report that a man, driving the wrong way onto the expressway. from an exit at full speed, had plowed into the huge rig, overturning it and creating an inferno. The clerk hadn’t managed to catch more details regarding possible fatalities.
We doubted that the car’s driver could have lived through such a massive trauma.
Our journey, which covered over 6,000 miles of expressway, was otherwise uneventful, save for this one accident. That’s amazing, when you think about it.
And, we certainly have a much better appreciation of what the southwest states are dealing with- a river of undocumented aliens, some of whom are wreaking havoc on the local population. The Santa Fe newspaper notes robberies, carjackings, drug-related crime, and all manner of frightening incidents that occur every day.
Tourists are beginning to notice.