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, Layla.
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 head 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 RAV4 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 recon 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 a 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 AWOL 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, even though 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 through millions of years 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
Navigation Officer 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" qualify. 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 Navigation
Officer did not get to make whoppee in the sands of the white desert and 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.
SPACE...it's everywhere!
For further adventures visit:
http://www.steelcactus.com
Live long & prosper,
Captain Dan
The Chronicles of Rudedick