Pt 11 Backroads & Wine: Savoring Sunsets
I set my GPS for the soulful route—letting the backroads lead me on a slower journey. I felt an invisible line, and that’s when the most ridiculous and quite entertaining thought entered my mind...
On the road again, leaving the dusty trails of Arizona in our backup camera—I would say rearview mirror, but we don’t have one. I was excited to cross over into New Mexico, following along Highway 10 east. At this end, there wasn’t much difference between the two states, the desert stretching on in familiar hues of brown and gold with the just the voice or our Garmin confirming the transitions with “Welcome to New Mexico.”
Need to catch up?
Our destination was our very first Harvest Hosts stop: Sombra Antigua Vineyard and Winery in Anthony, New Mexico. Harvest Hosts was something new and seemed intriguing so we decided to buy into the rather inexpensive full package that also included golf courses
Harvest Hosts is a unique membership program for RV enthusiasts that allows them to stay overnight at scenic locations such as farms, wineries, museums, and other interesting attractions across North America. Unlike traditional RV parks, these locations provide a more immersive and authentic experience, connecting travelers with local businesses and scenic spots. I think the biggest draw is having a place to stay overnight that is safe and sometimes adventurous.
It offers more than just a place to park—members enjoy an enriching experience by supporting local businesses and exploring unique, off-the-beaten-path destinations. It’s a way to combine adventure, cultural exploration, and a deeper connection with local communities while RVing.
When the organization first started, the idea was simple: a free night of parking in exchange for purchasing something like wine from a winery or fresh produce from a farm, or making donation at the local church making it a win-win for travelers, businesses, and the local community. Today, while it still offers those same adventures, it has expanded to include options for extended stays, partnerships with Boondockers Welcome offering people’s land, and nominal fees for hookups. Still absolutely worth it.
We arrived in March, so the winery was closed, and we had the whole place to ourselves. We did pay for a hookup—OK, that sounds weird, but I assure you, it was completely legal! We also treated ourselves to a wine tasting and ended up with a couple of bottles to take home all the way across the parking lot.
We only had the afternoon to explore, so I decided to soak in the surroundings with a nice walk before driving into town to pick up some food to pair with our fine bottle of Merlot. I found a Whole Foods Market in El Paso, Texas. After hours of driving the coach on the highway, I felt the pull of the backroads, so I set my GPS to avoid highways for a more scenic, soulful route—letting the backroads lead me on a slower journey, where one with its own rhythm and soul of a place reveals itself more steadily.
The road narrows, winding through wide expanses of desert brush and low, rolling hills. The hibernating vineyards fade in the rearview, replaced by stretches of open land that make you feel small, yet part of something vast and timeless. The Chihuahuan Desert reveals its rugged beauty, with tufts of sage and creosote bushes adding texture in between plots of something green breaking through the cold soil after a long winter sleep.
The first part of the drive brings me down La Vina Road, with its patches of farmland on either side—quiet and unassuming in the early afternoon. There’s a peaceful solitude here, the kind that had me rolling the windows down and letting the cool desert breeze fill the car. The air feels cleaner out here, untouched, and I felt I could breathe a little deeper as I made my way towards NM-28 South.
I turned onto Washington Street on the outskirts of town noticing the subtle shift in the air, each side of the road flanked with farms and ranches changing once again passing over the Rio Grande River. I felt an invisible line and that’s when the most ridiculous and quite entraining thought entered my mind. I parked my car outside of Mike Dipp Farms and got out. The rich scent of sun-warmed earth mingling with the desert air filling my nostrils reminding me I was no longer in Arizona. But, that is not what had my attention. Across the street lay New Mexico, but I was standing in Texas.
With no one in sight, I crossed the street to the dirt road on the New Mexico side, looking around to make sure my moment of ridiculousness was all mine. And then, I did it. I started jumping back and forth between the invisible line of New Mexico and Texas. Left foot in New Mexico, hop—now in Texas. Back again! I laughed, the sound echoing in the quiet around me, like a schoolgirl playing tag with an imaginary line. It felt absurd but perfect, a tiny, private moment of just pure ridiculousness.
I am not sure why I had to do this. Maybe it’s because we so often cross state lines on the highway, flying by the "Welcome to…" signs without a second thought, but here, I was truly between places. Two states at once, in the middle of a dirt road with no welcome signs or a crowd of social media influencers. It made me giddy, and for those few minutes, I forgot the world and let myself be swept up in the silliness. Sometimes, it’s the smallest, silliest things that bring the most joy for me.
Back in the car, I turned onto South Main Street and continued the journey with my little secret tucked away for safekeeping. The backroads led me through the quiet town of Anthony, where the pace of life felt slower. Passing local farms, the low hum of daily life drifting through the open windows—voices, tractors in the distance, the smell of fresh earth. The scenery was all farmland and dusty desert, blending together in a landscape that felt both familiar and foreign.
Driving in and out of the two states heading toward the market, the Franklin Mountains began to rise on the horizon, jagged and timeless, their deep, rocky ridges a striking contrast to the flat desert stretching out before them. The mountains seemed to get closer with every turn, beckoning me to come and conquer the top.
Before I knew it, I was pulling into the carpark at Whole Foods Market on Pitt Street, where the city of El Paso opened up before me. The hum of urban life returned—the streets filled with cars and people going about their day. But there was a part of me still back there, laughing like a kid, hopping back and forth between New Mexico and Texas on a quiet dirt road.
With a sense of celebration, I picked up dinner from the grocery store—fresh monkfish, often called the "poor man’s lobster" but oh so good, rich in flavor, along with a bounty of vegetables and creamy goat's milk feta for a perfect Greek salad. To top it off, I couldn’t resist making a fresh loaf of bread, topped with olives, onions and a sprinkle of parmesan, just to complete the evening's indulgence. A bottle of red from the vineyard sat on the table, waiting patiently to be uncorked
.As the sun began to dip below the horizon, we set the table just outside the coach. The vineyard stretched out in front of us, rows of budding grapevines casting long shadows across the earth, illuminated in the golden glow of the setting sun. The air grew cooler, but there was something about the chill—it made everything feel more alive, as if we were on the cusp of a perfect evening, nature wrapping us in its embrace. We poured the wine, rich and full-bodied, swirling in our glasses as we toasted to the simplicity and beauty of the moment. Our moment.
The monkfish sizzled in the cast iron pan, its aroma blending with the scent of fresh rosemary and olive bread, still warm and fragrant. We sat down, the table set with our feast, the colors of the salad vibrant against the rustic landscape—tomatoes, cucumbers, olives, all mixed with crumbles of feta. Each bite was a celebration, as if the vineyard itself was providing a backdrop to our meal, enhancing every flavor with its presence sharing it’s vision of a bounty to come.
And just when I thought the evening couldn’t get any more perfect, we were greeted by the resident cat. She padded softly over the dirt road, her calico fur bright against the fading light. She circled our feet, tail high and curious, as if she had decided to make us part of her evening routine. As a cat-lover, her quiet company added a whimsical touch, a reminder that in moments like these, it’s the smallest things that make the biggest impact.
As the sun finally slipped behind the hills, the sky above the vineyard transformed into a watercolor of purples and pinks, like a masterpiece unfolding just for us. The day gave way to twilight, and we lingered at the table, savoring the stillness. It felt like dining at the finest restaurant, but with one beautiful difference—no maître d' hovering to check if we were done, no pressure to vacate the table for the next reservation, and no tip to calculate at the end of the night. Time belonged to us. We sipped our wine slowly, each sip a moment of luxury. The vineyard, the meal, and the soft presence of the cat meandering at our feet wove together into a seamless tapestry of quiet joy. It was indulgent in the best way—unhurried, unrushed, the kind of evening that imprints itself on your heart, a lasting reminder of how rich simplicity can be.
We lingered a little longer, savoring the sounds of nature, knowing that by dawn we’d be on the move again. The spell of the evening, however, was soon broken by the pitiful sound of two cats —my cats, meowing miserably from the window—impatient, eager for their walk. Of course, that was our cue. And whose brilliant idea was it to train them to walk on a leash? Oh, right—mine. Note to self! With a sigh and a smile, I got up, knowing that in the quiet rhythm of life on the road, even the cats have their demands.
Question for you?
Have you been to New Mexico-what part? What was your favourite memory? If not, share with me a favourite memory? Hit that 👇 blue button right there and share your story, comment, suggestions with me.
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Next week we are heading to Texas!
Thanks a million and thank you for reading this.
~~Karen