I GOT MY KICKS ON ROUTE 66 – TUCUMCARI NEW MEXICO – 2008

This next trip through my fleeting and fading memory, takes place about 18 months after moving to Vancouver Island. Ange was living with us and attending University, or about to. Ron was now living in Newport Beach, California, a little south and west of downtown Los Angeles. Compared to now, as I write this, I realize that back then we were still quite young. In fact, at that age, I was not yet afraid of answering the phone. Ultimately it was a phone call, that got this piece of our history started. One day, a former colleague and former VP, of the same company I worked for, phoned. (I’ll name him the Scot). It was good to hear from him, and after a few minutes of chit chat, he asked if I could help him. Once again, I got a shot of adrenaline right to the heart. I should have dropped the phone and run away screaming. But not Ol’ Jimbored, nosiree. I just croaked out, “sure, anything”!

He asks, “what do you know about natural gas exploration and drilling”? Well I pump up to, lay some real bullshit on him, but what comes out, is a simple, “everything”! He chuckles and says, “you know JimboRed, somehow, I kind of expected that answer”. Well nothing like being predictable, I think. The Scot goes on to say that the group he is now with, holds some leases on a few partially developed natural gas properties. And adds that this group wants to investigate the possibilities of completing the wells and producing gas. The Scot then asks, “if you are going down that way would you mind having a look at them?” This apparently, to give his colleagues some insight into what they had, in what condition they were in, and what might be done to them to further the development of these lease into gas producing properties.

An immediate question came to mind. But I only voiced it to myself. I think he just implied that they bought these gas leases sight unseen? I didn’t ask it out loud, because I already knew the answer. Of course they did. Why else would you call Ol’ JimboRed? Especially if you had a well thought out plan in place already. I listen to his babbling about the beauty of this deal, how many billions of cubic feet of gas was trapped below these leases, and their vision of corporate offices in Amarillo, Texas, in the same building as T-Bone Lickens (a pseudonym for a famous wild cat driller and oil field entrepreneur). I did enquire, as to where these leases might be located. And was told they are in New Mexico, very close to a place called Tucumcari.

Just the sound of the name of the place, made me realize that this was not going to be close to any tourist Mecca. The Scot explained that the location was about 175 miles east of Albuquerque and about 115 miles west of Amarillo. Yup, I knew it! Right on the tourist route! Of course, I would be driving thru there at some point, while on vacation and could just stop for a look see! I’m thinking, hasn’t this guy looked on a map to see where I might be located. Hell from where we were on Vancouver Island, he was probably just as close, from London. Once again, he asks, “what do you think, could you pop in there and have a snoop around?” Somehow I’m intrigued, I mean here is someone calling me to see if I could take an afternoon off and drive over to some gas leases for a look. What the hell it was only 1850 miles or so, one way. About 4 days of intense driving each way.

The thing is, you got to admire someone who could think things thru to this level. Then make a casual call to see if I would jump in my car and drive 3700 miles (return) to look at something that they had bought, but not yet seen. I mean Texas and New Mexico were full of oil and gas field visionaries that would fall all over themselves to help “fleece” guys like these. Hell they were all cut from the same mold. Why bother planning and studying? Why not just jump right in, throw some money around and wait for the gas to start flowing? The reason you call JimboRed is that he just might be able to make some sense of something like this. Besides, he was retired, right? He had nothing better to do, right? At the very least you would have somebody, that you don’t have to pay, and someone to blame it on, if it all went to shit.

The long and short is, that, I asked for some time to think through it, and see if there was any logical way I could go and have a look. After some hard negotiation with Deysi, she decided that we could go see Ron, in LA, for Christmas. And afterwards, on our way home, we could make a small detour to New Mexico and have a look at those gas leases. I called the Scot and agreed to do a little snooping around in Tucumcari, after we had spent the Christmas Season with Ron in Los Angeles. He was delighted with this plan. In my mind I’m thinking, “how can anyone work like this, from across the seas, without any knowledge of what they were getting into”? And in a lot of ways, pinning their way forward, on me driving by, and trying to determine what was hidden 5000 feet below the surface of New Mexico.

once I decided that I would try to lend a hand, I then immersed myself in oil and gas exploration and production theory. I also got deep into that area of New Mexico, the peoples, history and economics. One of the first things I learned, really got my juices flowing. It just so happened, that Tucumcari was located right smack on Route 66. This was stuff right out of my childhood dreams! In the old days, Route 66 was a highway that crossed the heartland of America from Chicago to Los Angeles. So what? You might cry out! Who cares about an old two lane highway that is no longer in use? I will try to explain.

In the days of my childhood say, from the time I was about 11 until 15 or 16 years old, there was a weekly show, on TV, called Route 66. Along with my other favourites of the time like, Gunsmoke, Davy Crockett, The Last of The Mohicans and the Wonderful World of Disney, Route 66 was one of my all-time favourites. It was a series of adventure stories, filmed all across the US in places up and down Route 66. The show starred two young adults that drove along Route 66 in their corvette and looked for adventure. It was a mix of action, adventure, crime and drama. I could see myself riding along with them helping them through many great adventures. And now we, Deysi and I had the chance to drive, parts of this historic route, that now remained.

Route 66 was built in the 1920’s and used up to about the early 50’s. At that point a system of Interstate highways were starting to be built, bypassing (or encompassing) Route 66 in many places. By the mid 1980’s most of the Route 66 signs had been removed, as pieces were incorporated into Interstate Highways or abandoned altogether. It was then decommissioned piece by piece and replaced by more modern roadways. However, many large sections of it still remained and could be found in many states. It just so happened that Route 66 ran right down main street in Tucumcari. Now I’m pumped, perhaps after all there was a reason to make a trip to this out of the way place. Deysi never said no to a trip, her gear was always at the ready.

One day in mid December 2007 we pack our travelling stuff and head off for LA. Ange joins us, but this time by plane. It appears that by this time in her life she had enough of family travels. I believe she was “over” being locked in a car with her dad, and suffering lectures from her dad on “right and wrong” from a conservative viewpoint. She did however, concede to visit her sister, as long as she could fly. At this time of our lives, Ron was living in Newport Beach, and working for the same global engineering company, that I had for so many years. It was hard to imagine, but after only 2 years she had already got a posting to a major resort like area. What the hell, didn’t she have to do any penance in the crappiest places, first? Places like Northern Canada or the Arctic, or the middle of a desert, Nigeria, or in a war zone. Anyway she was lucky and landed a job, close to Disneyland, Hollywood, Malibu and in Ange’s mind “heaven”.

We spent an idyllic time walking the beaches, shopping and soaking up the sun. Ron was a great host and tried her best to make everyone happy. For me it was the perfect time of our lives. The girls were now grown and showing all the signs of being successful, independent women. Ron had found an apartment in a very nice complex in Newport Beach. It was not right on the ocean, but also not more than a few minutes away from it. I remember the weather being warm, just like California was supposed to be. All the time, we were there, the theme song for the show, Route 66, called “Get Your Kicks on Route 66”, replayed thru my mind.

We stayed with her until just before New Year. It was one of our best times ever. I remember Christmas gifts from Ron. She thought she was hilarious and gave me all sorts of things to help me as I aged. I received, Manpers, Geritol, Depends, Fixodent, and hemorrhoid creme. I smiled and laughed along with them, even though my feelings were hurt deeply. Not until this time, did I see myself as old. The rest of them gave each other, nurturing, and nice presents. Ron was extremely generous. The Bailey’s flowed and we had a great time. Ange, of course, was in heaven. Now within a few miles of her dreamland called Disneyland.

I try to remember the complex that Ron lived in. To me it seemed huge. I am not quite sure but it might have held a couple of hundred units. It had everything. Her’s was a sweet, modern two bedroom apartment. I believe it was in a village called Lido Marine. It was on Newport Bay, on one side, at the end of an estuary, and a few blocks from the Pacific Ocean on the other. We passed a few idyllic days together. And then, a couple of days before New Years 2008, Deysi and I packed our car and headed in search of Route 66 and adventure. I will miss those days of all of us together, forever. Other than the age related presents, which broke my spirits for a couple of days, our time had been great. Goodbye Los Angeles, look out Tucumcari here we come. As we departed I could see Ron, gazing longingly after us, wishing we could have stayed a couple of more weeks. She might have even shed a tear!

So very early one morning we are back in the car for a side trip that would eventually take us through California, parts of Arizona, Nevada, and ultimately deep into New Mexico. We did not really have a firm route in mind, other than seeing anything of interest that got in our way. Some idea of travelling along pieces of Route 66 were in our plans if they did not take us too far away from our goal. With that, we headed off for adventure. Deysi was in the co-pilot’s seat armed with maps, snacks, a portable DVD player and her reading material. Prepared like this, she had travelled many thousands of miles at my side over the years. She never, to this day, got tired of looking at new things and new places.

I remember bits and pieces of this trip. Somehow we got out of LA, which took at least an hour, headed north east, across the northern tip of Arizona, past Lake Havasu and over to Las Vegas, Nevada. For any of you that are familiar, you will know that our route was not the quickest was to get to New Mexico. However, if I remember correctly, it was New Years eve 2007 and we wanted to see the lights. We spent a few days exploring the Las Vegas area, before setting our minds, once again on a visit to Tucumcari. Now it was January 2008 and we were on the road again. We stopped to see the Hoover Dam. It was always a sight of great interest to us. Basically, this dam, collected water to feed the water demands of Nevada. The collected water formed a huge reservoir called Lake Mead. It was a spectacular sight. We then gathered our thoughts, got back on track, to head into New Mexico and look at some well sites.

At some point, while crossing the northern part of Arizona, somewhere between Kingman and Flagstaff, we ran smack into a good old fashioned Canadian snow storm. My god did it come down. It cut our travel short that day and we took shelter in a Motel just off the interstate, and right on Route 66. We ate a great dinner of ………? Maybe Deysi will remember? Early next morning we got back in the car and focused on making it to Albuquerque, New Mexico, in one shot. That turned out to be, an almost 500 mile drive. I must say, about the only thing of real note, while driving this section of the Interstate, was that we passed by the Navajo Nation tribal lands. They were located just inside the border of New Mexico. The first thing I noticed was a new Casino, just over the boundary of the Navajo lands.

As soon as Ol’ JimboRed had seen the sign for a casino, and an arrow pointing to Route66, he became awful tired of driving and suggested an early stop to our trip that day. We had probably covered about 350 of the 500 miles we planned for that day. Deysi was never one to pass up a good casino. She readily agreed. You could see her rummaging in her things, and finally extracting a bag of nickels from the depths. She looked like she was ready to bring this joint to it’s knees, 5 cents at a time. We drove a short way off the highway and then turned onto a piece of the original Route 66 highway. I was filled with nostalgia. I suppose, I might have even had to brush away a tear. A few miles down the highway we reach the casino. I was so happy, up to the point we found out, that they were not opening their casino until later in 2008. Damn, now I’m back on the interstate, one hour behind where we would have been had I never seen that cursed sign

We continue toward Albuquerque, and just to the west of the largest city in New Mexico, we do indeed, find a casino hotel to stay at. This one also on Navajo tribal lands. In the morning we drove thru Albuquerque looking for places of interest. It appeared to be a very clean, quiet city. However, I guess at 8:00am, all cities are quiet looking. In any event, with nothing “jumping” out at us, we pointed our vehicle east and headed off toward the sun. I might say here, that the landscape of New Mexico, was much like a high arid plateau. In many ways it reminded me somewhat of the Andes in Peru, or maybe even the badlands in Alberta where my mom and dad were raised. What trees there were, were short and stunted, angled to the east, shaped by the prevailing wind. The interstate, was flat and straight. Only once in a while the tedium broken by a truck stop, beckoning from the side of the interstate. We resisted the urge to stop and shop in these oasis’ designed to lure in weary travellers, and forged onward towards our destination.

Finally, about three weeks after leaving Vancouver Island we had arrived in Tucumcari, New Mexico, for no other reason than to do a favour for a former colleague. I guess when you retire, and people quit seeking your advice and help, you develop a desperate need to feel relevant. Someone calls, and asks you to help them with something, you find yourself falling all over, in your glee at being sought out. That in a nutshell was JimboRed. Looking back at this memory, it is obvious there had to be some other motivator driving me to do this favour. Some combination of circumstances put Deysi and I on the road again. It could have been our adventurous spirits, or the fact that we both enjoyed a good drive. Some articles mentioned the name, Tucumcari, was derived from a Comanche word meaning “ambush”. That alone might have prompted us to go see.

It was not money, I was retired and therefore had no financial incentive to do anything. And this trip certainly cost us money. Tucumcari, New Mexico was not on any tourist route, and apart from this call, we would probably never had heard of this place let alone drove there intentionally. Oil and gas exploration and production, held very little interest for me. I had been close to some parts of it for 35 years. I saw no beauty in it. These days, the thought of getting up one day and intentionally driving 4000 miles, roundtrip, to take a look at something, for someone else, makes me shudder. And finally, what I knew about Natural Gas drilling and extraction, could have fit onto the head of a pin. The only thing, I knew was, even with scarcely any knowledge, I probably still knew volumes more than those who had asked me to do them this favour.

So having arrived on the interstate a couple of miles outside of Tucumcari, we turned off at a sign proclaiming Route 66/Tucumcari. Entering town we were met with what appeared to be a community of perhaps 5000 people, not poor, but also not looking like 5000 living in Venice Beach, Los Angeles. Main street, which Route 66 ran down, was filled with nondescript, one or two story wood sided buildings. The occasional adobe or brick construction could be seen. Those being, mostly city or state government buildings where money was no object, and a more expensive form of design and construction could be used. We also noticed a few buildings closed and boarded up. Along with a number of buildings, displaying for sale signs on them. This was by no means a poor place, nor was it the most affluent place we ever visited.

As I looked into the history of Tucumcari, what jumped out at me was this. In the forties, fifties and even some of the sixties, this was a thriving town. Business was booming. Each and every vehicle that went west across the southern US had to drive right down Main Street, in Tucumcari. Conversely any vehicle driving from the west to the east with destinations such as St. Louis, Chicago or NY, also had to pass right thru town. In it’s day, this must have been, one bustling and thriving community. So what happened over the last years?

In the 1950’s the US government introduced a system of interstate roadways, to make traversing the country, faster and easier. Unfortunately, in some instances, routes that had been previously used, were now not the best way to go. From a perspective of travel flow and ease of construction, many, many US towns were now bypassed with the new interstate no longer running thru them. For most, this spelled death. For some, like Tucumcari, this meant a stunting of growth, or even a decline from its glory days. These towns were now relegated to becoming small service centres for the surrounding area. Young people, moved away as soon as any opportunity elsewhere, came available. No one wanted to stay and wither, in these now dying communities.

Finally we have arrived at the point of this article. That being, to look at some gas leases, which had been acquired by some people, I vaguely knew out of the UK. We found ourselves a room in the one and only motel in Tucumcari, still located on a piece of the famous Route 66, of my boyhood. I didn’t see many corvettes whizzing up and down the street, but did spend some time with my dreams of adventure. And with Deysi comfortably ensconced in her room, surrounded by her movies, bonbons, and reading material, I went to find out what these gas leases were all about.

Accompanied by a local, familiar with the leases, I leave Tucumcari in search of fame and fortune. In all, I believe there were 7 wells that were in some state of completion, prior to the previous company, turning “belly up”. At that point work was stopped, in place and whatever state they were in, the wells were then “shut in”. Meaning, they were capped off, with valves, meant to contain the gas inside the well, with no chance of leakage or spillage. What I found was basically 7 different stages of shut in. Each one different, or at a different stage than the next. If I remember, the drilling on all of them ranged in depth from 5000 to 8000 feet deep. A couple of them had nothing above ground, other than a valve and a well marker containing it’s information at time of shut in.

Others were in some state of completion and had anywhere from a “full Christmas Tree” of valves, gauges and fittings through to one or two, that had some of the front end production equipment installed. One even had, a production heater and small storage vessel, and was complete with an electronic measurement system. On first look, I might say I was actually impressed. To my amazement, this group, I was trying to help, had actually got something for their investment. Probably about 10 times more than what I had expected. The leases were in two primary locations, I think there were 4 or 5 grouped fairly close to each other, with 2 or 3 more about 5 miles to the east. Connecting these two areas was a partially complete transportation pipeline, which seemed in a good state.

I spent the rest of the day, stomping around, kicking tumbleweeds and looking as wisely as I could at the sites. On one site we opened a valve and sure enough shut in gas was released like the sound of an approaching locomotive. It screamed and howled and gave me quite a fright. Geezus, I thought, they actually have found gas! How much there was, I don’t know. In any event, I was a lot more impressed with what I had seen, than what I was imagining I would see, while driving down there. I had to make a silent apology, for the unkind words I may have thought about these guys and their leases. During the day I took quite a few photos to prove that I had, in fact been there.

Accompanied by my guide, who by now, knew that I WAS “not” a real gas field visionary, we snooped around the surrounding area. We went back and forth from one side of the interstate to the other. We crossed Route 66 a number of times and my companion filled me with folklore about the famous highway. He said that he remembered film crews coming into the area to film an episode or two of the famous TV show. In amongst our talk about the history of the area, he drawled, “you know these wells you looked at, needed to be drilled to about 11,000 feet and then they would have hit pay dirt!” So, that, my friends became the basis of my report about what I had seen. I wisely, pumped myself up, and stated, “well I think you have something there, but maybe they need to be extended to a deeper level”!

As a side note, I might add that the people that asked me to “pop” in and have a look, got just about what they paid for. I did have a look. However you do not see much of what is happening 5000 feet down. Not without a lot of time, effort and money. That also went into my report. They paid me nothing, and I was able to give them next to nothing in return.

We spent a few days, kicking horse turds down the road, chasing tumbleweeds and conversing with the lonesome and forlorn looking cattle, spread around this area. I felt that this was perfect ranching country, where you needed about 200 acres to feed each head of cattle you raised. If I was correct then this was the place to do it. There was nothing but hundreds and hundreds of miles of arid, sparsely covered dirt and rock. Decorated by cactus here and there. Every once in a while you could spot a forlorn looking cow, munching half heartedly on a scrawny and tough looking piece of mesquite or maybe even cactus. THAT’S IT, I’M SPENT, AND NOW YOU KNOW HOW “I GOT MY KICKS ON ROUTE 66″! A couple of days later, we packed our vehicle and wandered our way back towards home.