Greetings Earthlings!
This is a chronicle of an adventure we took to the realm of New Mexico:
Star Date: 11.30.2000
We began our trek from the Earth Station Phoenix. Along with my hardy crew of:
Science Officer Gary, First Mate and Local Child Prodigy Kelly
and, of course, our alien canine,
As Captain of the mission, it was under my direction to locate and record all areas of the southwestern desert region in the area known as the
southern plateau of New Mexico. Along our southern descent of the Sonora region in Arizona, I instructed our crew to stop and gather
supplies at the local Mrs. Perkins. After nourishing intake we continued on past the last great industrialization area that our journey would
encounter, Tucson. It had already been an eventful trip where we had made visual contact of an Ostrich Farm with a population of over 400
creatures. We also sited the highest elevationary peak in the area, Picacho. But the real excitement was in the ship itself. We had made the
serious miscalculation of adding to our cargo hold the alien canine. Unruly, undisciplined and with sharp claws she made her presence known by
proceeding to attack all members of the crew. Our phasers (squirt bottles) set on stun did little to deter the fact that we were having our
heads set upon by this supposedly docile creature. We would continue on as planned but this would be a constant source of derangement.
Little was to be encountered as we traveled to the farthest regions of the Arizona territory. Aside from the few signposts, bovines and
equines that populated this desolate area I was hard pressed to keep attentive order to the crew who grew disoriented by the space sickness
of sleep. We soon came upon clues that we were passing onto the next galaxy of New Mexico. The big welcome sign helped. At first the
surrounding scenery lent little idea that we had passed into a totally alien world as it looked very much like the universe we had left. But soon
the relatively flat landscape rose into mountainous terrain. Our first contact with the locals was one in which we did our best to avoid. I
directed the crew to go into stealth mode as we were now passing the White Sands Missile Range. In our little CR-V cruiser, we were no
match for the arsenal that was stockpiled there. I decided against a reconnaissance mission at the Missile Range and decided to instead view
the hiding place of the legendary earthman, Billy the Kid. After the disappointment of finding nothing but ruins at the mouth of a cave, I had
the crew take readings and photograph the sight for future exploration. The pitch of the planet had turned rapidly and we were running out
of light. It was put forth by the Science Officer to make haste to our first otherworldly outpost, White Sands National Monument. After
exacting a fee from us, the border guards gave us liberty to explore the destination on our own. We proceeded slowly through the world of
white gypsum and sparse vegetation. As we ventured further into the 400,000 earth acred desert we were amazed at the likeness to the
great northern snowdrifts from which many of you are now reading this. We had now traveled over eight parsecs (hours) and the delight of
running through this barren, desolate world gave the crew a sense of freedom that would not bode well for my command. Led by the alien
canine, they set out on a re-con mission and found various anomalies. While running through the gypsum (don't call it sand!) they found their
movement impeded by the quagmire quality of its viscosity. After running their fool heads off into the vast wilderness they were at a loss of
direction. As sunset rapidly approached the mercury dropped to the point of frigidness. The spectacular variations in the atmosphere lent a
serene quality to the, um...atmosphere. After photographic documentation that which almost exhausted our supply of imaging material (film).
We retraced the steps of the local inhabitants to find our landing spot. We made quick exit of this, most decidedly indescribable land, and hit
the gift shop. After a short jaunt to nearby Alamogordo, which means fat Alamo, we ate the local food (Mexican) which led to my gastronomic
turmoil. We then settled in for the night at one of the local establishments. Other than a few instances of the alien canine trying to go
A.W.O.L. we had made it through our first day without serious incident and are at awe of God's mysterious abilities.
Star Date: 12.01.2000
The crew started the next day with mess prepared by a man named Denny. After traveling another parsec we arrived at our Science Officer's
ultimate destination, Roswell, NM. The delight was obvious on his face as we entered this storied city on the outskirts of the twilight zone.
Purported spot of an extraterrestrial crash in the star date of 07.04.1947, it is a widely held belief that a lot of weirdoes show up here. After
interrogating the local Chamber of Commerce, we found that we were really over fifty earth miles from the actual crash site. He informed us
that there was a cracked rock...or is that a crackpot? marking the site. We decided to forgo the expanded sortie and just go to the UFO
Museum. On the way there we would be able to buy "Alien Sno-Cones" and see the lampposts that were marked of alien eyes? Obviously a
covert overlord operation to keep the masses under thumb. The Science Officer kept an eye towards the heavens where, he hoped to
implant an alien seductress. Our precocious first mate had many redoubtable questions that could not be answered satisfactorily. Such as:
"Captain Dan, why have we driven to another galaxy to get to a town as big as Dormont and not half as interesting?" "Captain Dan, why does
the Science Officer keep looking at the sky and walking into me?" "Captain Dan, when will we seek nourishment again?" I put her in charge of
the alien canine.
We finally made it to the Mecca of UFOnAuts! The famed UFO Museum of Roswell! We are bound to find proof of extraterrestrial life here! We
expect to have to bribe the border guards for entrance but find that it is free! This is another world! We meet one of UFOdom's legendary
heroes. He is the man who told the world that a UFO crashed here in 1947, the military PR man. Of course, he is old as the moon and we
don't understand a word but we gain his signature and act as if it is a big deal. The first exhibition is of the alien autopsy being performed by a
papier-mache surgeon. We meander our way through the many, many exhibits full of facts, hacks and people smoking crack. But I find it very
interesting, eventhough this will not distinguish my military career. The photos have a tendency to look like hubcaps but they even have fun
with this by hanging hubcaps from the ceiling. We don't spend enough time here to find the true answer but their documentation is
expansive. We invade the gift shop and buy with reckless abandon...that's why it is free to get in! You can pretty much count on a Roswell
Xmas gift. After looking at crop circles display, we decide it is time to seek nourishment again. So it is off to the tackiest place in the universe,
"The Crash Site Cafe." Here every type of depiction of alien invaders that was ever on Chiller Theater meets us. I have the Pluto Burger or the
Martian Monte Cristo or something like that. First Mate Kelly gets to draw her depiction of an alien life form to hang on the wall of fame. The
crew has shown a real propensity for gluttonous eating but overall has performed well. We bed down for the night after a disastrous excursion
in search of a closed star exhibit. I will say nothing more on this point. The alien canine has dragged us out into the elements far too often!
Star Date: 12.02.2000
After an early reveille, we pack and stow and begin the last leg of our mission. We are to map, take readings and photograph the
um...cavernous...Carlsbad Caverns. 76 miles to our south, we will be within sighting distance of the badlands, or what the locals call Texas. The
alien canine has now tried the patience of all of us by refusing all members adequate sleep enroute. I hold the Science Officer responsible for
additional sleep deprivation by refusing to log off the world-monitoring device (TV) until 0200 hours. But we arrive at our last command post
with renewed vigor. We have been told that we will be able to pen the alien canine onsite and get a welcome respite from her own special
kind of lunacy. We are once again extracted a fee. After our credentials are verified they inform us that their holding pen for creatures is
closed for repairs. She will have to stay in the ship. She is not happy. As we peruse our options for spelunking we estimate that it will take a
light year to see the whole place. We decide to take the turbo tube down 750 earth feet to the Big Room thereby cutting our stay 1.5
parsecs. We pass thru millions of years of rock evolution and empty out to a large food dispensary. We begin our circuitous route through the
cavern and are in awe of its magnitude. Stalactites, stalagmites and other conical igneous things are strewn throughout the double hangar
sized room. A path entreats into its vastness. The ceiling levels out at around a 75 meters. Its awe-inspiring wonder is surely another
otherworldly outpost. We photograph the darkness. We photograph more darkness as we find stone faces. Sort of like my high school math
teacher. It reminds me of the Wizard of Oz as I expect them to start talking like the trees to Dorothy. We come upon the bottomless pit
where the someone remembers, as a child, the guide throwing a coin and never hearing it hit. These days they find it to be only 140 earth
feet! The coin must have found bat guano (poop) and that is why they never heard it hit. We hit the gift shop where the Science Officer
buys the silliest hat. A 1.5-parsec trip around only one room of this incredibly humongous place. But it is time we are to begin our odyssey
home. The alien canine is not happy about being cooped in the ship and lets us know. We penetrate the northern interior of the badlands and
drive through the rugged border town of El Paso. I hate this place. The crew passes time by inventing a game of naming animal and cartoon
animals that begin with designated letters of the alphabet. It almost turns to mutiny as the Science Officer insists that "Wag the Dog" qualifies.
The riot is quelled when, as Captain, I threaten to abort the mission and have him thrown into the brig.
We arrive safely back to Earth Station Phoenix. I consider the main thrust of the mission a success although all aspects had not been
accomplished. Science Officer did not get probed as he hoped. No UFO's were spotted, except Jupiter. The First Mate did not meet any
Pokemon lifeforms.  The alien canine did not find any prehistoric bones. As for me, all the objectives were accomplished on time, safely and
within the scope of my command. And I received the Purple Heart for wounds suffered in battle with the alien canine. However, no definitive
proof of extraterrestrial life was gained.'s everywhere!
Live long and prosper,
Captain Dan