Allien,That was hi on my list but fri was cring for a new knittin thread.
sloth



10/11/2008 10:36:25 AM MDT

Okay...I did what I did because when I re-read my post, I didn't want to sound like I was being a jerk to the NM natives. It was sort of a silly question.



I was born in Pennyslvania and now live in Indiana. Two pretty vanilla places to live. The remote desert seems so unlike anything I've ever seen in my life. I've seen movies like "The Hills Have Eyes" and the like. I just have the impression of the southwest being this place where you don't want to be out on a rural highway without an ar and 5-6 loaded magazines.



After making the first post I decided that I came off poorly. I take pride in not offending too many people on ARFCOM and I certainly don't want to start now.

Oh, hell yeah. Just last week I was out scouting some new prairie dog towns to do some shooting on. Found some good sized towns and marked them on the GPS for future reference. Time got away from me and I did not realize it was getting dark. I suddenly realize I am 8 miles from the nearest paved road and the sun will be down in 15 minutes. I toss my gear into the back of the truck and my dog climbs into the front passenger seat. Tires spinning, I hauled ass down the rough county road. I glanced into the rear view mirror and could already see shadows starting to crawl into open area where I had just been parked.



I got about 2 miles to an area where the trees come close to the road. My dog starts to whine and cry, but I can't see anything in the coming darkness. I round a curve and see "something" move into the woods. Four legs, but no apparent hair.



Another mile down the road and I still have 5 more to go. The sun is down now but I can still see enough to drive without my lights. I enter another ridge of trees and it suddenly gets darker. Darker than it should be. I kick on the lights, but with the thickness of the trees, I still can't see far down the road. Rounding another corner, I am faced with a large tree across the road. When I had come up the road 3 hours earlier, it was completely clear. I back up and look for a way around. I see what looks like a path I could drive on, but I can't see if it will take me all the way around the downed tree. Knowing I am running out of time, I take the path and tell the dog to hold on.



As I approach the downed tree, I see I will have to drive over a section of the tree to get across. I eyeball it and I think I have enough clearance to make it. With branches cracking and scraping the side of my truck, I inch forward. Just as I am completely straddling the tree, I feel a thump on the rear of my truck. I look back and spot what appears to be three huge dogs. My tail lights are just bright enough that a second glance tells me these are no dogs. Hairless bodies drenched in blood. Unnaturally long necks that end in long thin heads. Teeth that extended below the jawline. And lots of them.



I gun the motor and the truck jolts forward. My dog is screaming as if she is already dying. She knows what is behind us. And what they will do to us. The log catches on my undercarriage and I am stuck for a moment. As I throw it into reverse, I see a dark shape in the bed of my truck. Back into drive and I gun it forward. I hit the log so hard the back wheels jump into the air and land on the log. By this time, I just have it floored. The log spins out from under my tires and I am across. My sudden acceleration must have caused the "shape" in the bed of the truck to fall out, as I can't see anything in the bed.



I am crashing through the brush so fast I don't have time to look back. And I can't see where I am going. Suddenly the branches thin and I find myself on the two-track road again. I don't remember the last few miles to pavement. Just the sounds of the motor revving and my dog screaming. As I cross the last ridge before the paved road, the light returns. Yes the sun is still down, but after the depth of the darkness in the woods I feel as if I have emerged into the brightest sunshine. The waning moon provides more than ample light to see 200 yards down the road.



I hit the pavement at about 50 mph and slide sideways to head south. I am drenched in sweat and my dog has soiled herself on the seat. I look back to the road I just left, but nothing seems amiss. The rolling dust from my escape the only evidence anyone was even there.



When I get to the pass leading down to home, I catch a cel signal. I know Mike is at his house. I hit the speed dial and the phone rings. Four rings and I am expecting the voicemail. But he picks up.



"Mike, you are not going to believe this!!! I found four prairie dog towns within an hour of the house!! And it looks like there is only one pack of nuclear-waste mutated, demon possessed, vampire werewolves in the area!!!!!!!!!!!!!"



Mike was pretty happy to hear about the prairie dog towns too.



I keep seeing a bunch of movies indicating Indiana is full of imbeciles. In the more urban areas, is this true?









EDIT: DAMMMMITTTTT, why did I not quote your post when I had the chance?



EDIT 2: As it turns out, I can quote it:



"I have never been to New Mexico...so I mean no disrespect to the state. Its just that there are numerous horror movies based in rural New Mexico (or other adjacent areas in the soutwest). How are the remote rural areas of the southwest? Are these places really as dangerous as they are portrayed?"

This just made my day

Pretty accurate description.



Love the story

Oh My Gawd, that is the best I have read in quite a while.



BTW, those weren't Nukular zombies, they were Navajo Shapeshifters.

A classic!



I took a day off from 'net yesterday and I missed something. Glad someone got the OP quoted.

That's a pretty good write Alien.. I gotta ask though, how come you weren't frantically firing un-aimed silver bullets out of your back window with your right hand while navigating the fallen tree in the dimly lit dusk with your left?



dv

I considered it. But I bought my silver bullets when silver was going for just over $20 an ounce. No way I was going to waste high priced ammo on three simple fanged demon beasts. I mean, this is New Mexico. I run into worse on my way back from Dairy Queen.

Sloth,



I certainly was not offended. Amused? Yes. Your post did give me the opportunity to be a smartass and I thank you for the chance.



As a 12 year resident who spends a fair amount of time in the "outdoors", I can say that New Mexico is different from any other place I have lived in. (The South) Before living in New Mexico I had never come across a group of illegal immigrants entering the country, never reported 3 separate incidents of poaching in a single year, never come across pot fields while hunting, and never observed racial tensions between 2 groups of people that had nothing to do with me. We have more rattlesnakes than I have ever seen and we are one of the few remaining places in the USA to have regular outbreaks of the plague.



But I love this State. Before I moved here, my then fiance was getting a lot of heat from her friends about moving to New Mexico. She was from Dallas and all her friends and colleagues could not understand why I would drag her out to God forsaken New Mexico. After several conversations that resulted in nothing but more skeptical looks, I finally came up with an argument they could not refute. I told them I wanted to live in the state Texans go to play in. They seemed to understand that.



I probably did not answer your original intended question, but am not sure I can. New Mexico can be just as dangerous as any other state. Not sure about crime rates, but I would be willing to bet ours might be a little higher than yours. I travel armed, but would do the same in any other state. I have spent many nights by myself in the middle of nowhere and not felt in any more danger than other solo hunting trips.



Bottom line, carry the AR, but you probably will be OK with just 2 magazines.......

That's good stuff.

Except for the TREES

You must live in the desert or the plains of the SE part of the state.

Aw, hell, they weren't shapeshifters. They were inbred denizens of Joe's Bar.

if i read that again i am going to need a diaper and a snot rag!