By Anne Groebner

Last year went out like a lion. Not so much weather-wise, but in tragedies and loss. Major heart surgery taught me the hard way, that my life will never be the same. I learned how important every day — every hour, every minute and every second — is. Recently, I have been told that I have no restrictions, however, I have spent months proving it to myself. I have hiked Mount Baldy and other trails and I just traveled by truck (with my black lab and loyal companion, Duncan) four thousand miles from Arizona to the east coast and back. Along the way, I looked for the things that matter most in life. I needed to see the good in this world. The things that make a difference, that make life worth living and meet the people that have passion and big, good hearts.

PIE TOWN

My journey started on the back roads in Northeastern Arizona. From Springerville, Arizona, the long, quiet eastward State Highway 60, through high-desert vegetation, brought me to Pie Town, New Mexico. I have to admit that I have driven past this place many times and never stopped. This time, I put my foot on the brakes and pulled into the parking lot of the Gathering Place — and was glad I did. I ordered a plate of some of the best pulled pork and hand-cut French fries in Catron County — and, of course, some pie.

As I was leaving, Maddie, the owner’s dog, ran out to greet me, followed by Paul, the owner. He was excited to tell me about his plans for their new venture in Pie Town. He and his Mother, Cheryl, purchased the Gathering Place in October 2023 and opened November 5th. They moved from northern Idaho, near the Canadian border. Since then he has purchased two new smokers and is smoking meats and serving up brisket, pulled pork, sausages and a lot more. He has some big renovations taking place soon as well, including expanding the kitchen and moving the bakery, and creating a lounge complete with pool table, couches, chairs, wine and beer.

As a new business, Rader worried people wouldn’t know what to expect, but now he has the support of the locals and many travelers passing through, like me. It is also a welcome sight to travelers along the Continental Divide National Scenic Trail (CDT) — a 3,100-mile trail that runs from Mexico to Canada (The trail is a National Scenic Trail that was established in 1978). The center of Pie Town is two miles (3 km) west of where US 60 crosses the Continental Divide, which provides a respite between Silver City and Grants, New Mexico. For cyclists, equestrians, motorcyclists, and hikers, Pie Town provides several services, including a free hostel, supplies, and unique flavors of pie.

The Gathering Place is open year round, but in the winter they are closed on Thursdays and Fridays. They are open on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Saturday from 9:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. and Sunday from 9:00 a.m. to 2:00 p.m. Weekend specials often include a variety of options, like brisket and brisket sliders. Everything is made fresh, including all their sauces and French fries. Nothing is cooked until you order it and then they make it from scratch — and their pies are pretty amazing. I bought a peach/blueberry, and it was outstanding. And, I was told, that they have the highest ratings — a 4.9 out of 5 — in the county. “Of course there is always that one person,” Rader told me.

Next time you are passing through New Mexico via State Highway 60, make sure and stop in and try the food and enjoy their hospitality. Or check out the “Pie Festival” held there on the second Saturday of each September. Last year, the festival drew in almost 4,000 attendees.

After leaving Pie Town, I passed the Very Large Array (VLA), which I had written about a couple of years ago. They filmed the 1997 movie Contact here. The satellite dishes are huge and seeing them always makes me wonder if Dr. Ellie Arroway (Jodie Foster), really heard something or someone communicating from another galaxy? Okay, it’s just a movie, or is it? There is a museum there that is worth stopping for. Magdalena is just miles further east, and although the road is pretty desolate and there’s a tendency to get past it quickly, keep it slow, I hear from a reliable source they are seriously watching your speed there.

Once I reached the end of State Highway 60 I was in Soccoro, where I got on I-25. I drove about eight miles south and took exit 139/San Antonio to State Highway 380 east, and drove past the Trinity Sight and the White Sands Missile Range — the site of the World’s first atomic bomb. There is a pretty interesting and in-depth documentary about the history of the atomic bomb on Turning Point that I watched on Netflix. 

SMOKEY BEAR HISTORICAL PARK

A few miles from the Trinity site is the town of Capitan, where the Smokey Bear Historical Park is located. It is a State Park that draws millions of visitors each year. It caught my attention, and I wanted to find out the story behind the famous bear, who, while he was alive, “attracted children and adults alike, second only to Santa Claus.” Capitan is the birthplace and the final resting place of the original live Smokey Bear fire prevention icon.

Park manager, Mary Lavin, greeted me when I entered the museum and I told her I wanted information about Smokey Bear. She briefed me on the fundamentals of the authentic story and then handed me brochures and website links with more than enough information. Then she directed me to the museum and the outside interpretive walkway for my self-guided tour.

Smokey Bear’s legacy has been around for about 80 years. During World War II, he was just an advertisement for fire prevention. In 1944, the USDA and the Ad Council conceived the original Cooperative Fire Prevention Program and chose a virtual bear as its official symbol. They named him “Smokey” after the New York Assistant Fire Chief, “Smokey” Joe Martin.

Meanwhile, in 1950, there was a human-caused wildfire called the Las Tablas Fire in the Capitan Mountains, within the Lincoln National Forest. A second fire started a couple of days later named the Capitan Gap Fire, which was also human-caused — both fires burned 17,000 acres. Seventy mile-per-hour winds made it impossible to battle the blaze and nineteen firefighters took shelter in a rock slide while the fire burned over them. Ray Bell, the Game Warden at the time, recalled, in his recorded interview in 2000, just months before he passed,* that Speed Simmons, fire supervisor, told the men to get into the rocks, lay face down with wet handkerchiefs over their heads and wait until the fire burned over. “he didn’t want any of them to run. If they ran, he told them, he would hit them in the back of the head with a shovel.”

Afterwards, firefighters found a bear cub clinging to a tree. Its paws and backside were badly burned. The men fed him candy and canned milk, which then made him sick. Rancher, Ross Flatley, took the bear home and by the time Ray Bell got to the bear cub, they weren’t sure he would live. So Bell flew the cub to Santa Fe where Dr. Edwin Smith, veterinarian, cared for the bear. When Ray and his five-year-old daughter, Judy, went back to get the cub, the vet said the burns were healing but he couldn’t get him to eat, so at the insistence of Judy, they took the bear home. Bell’s wife, Ruth, sent Ray to the store to buy Pablum, honey and milk and set an alarm to feed every two hours.

It was Ray Bell who had the foresight of the importance of having a living bear icon. He approached the Forest Service’s head honchos in Santa Fe, but they wanted nothing to do with the bear. However, word got out and Washington D.C., realizing the value of a living icon, contacted them and asked if they could have the bear. So they flew him to D.C. on a Piper Jet, and he lived there for 25 years. Millions of people from all over the world came to see him. When he died in 1976, they flew him back to New Mexico and buried him in the Smokey Bear Historical Park — where I was able to stand by his grave.

The real Smokey Bear is gone, but his memory lives on through his incredibly important message to places across the world that are high risk for wildfires. It’s really very simple, but a message that is sometimes ignored at the price of great tragedy — only you can prevent wildfires.

The Museum and Visitor Center at the Smokey Bear Historical Park has exhibits on the true story of Smokey Bear, fire ecology, watershed health and restoration, wildland/urban interface, and forest conservation. There are three acres of botanical forests, beautiful butterfly and Xeriscape gardens, an interpretive walkway through life zones found throughout the state, and the New Wildland Firefighter Memorial.

*The living symbol of Smokey Bear would not have been possible without the dedication, nurturing and foresight of Ray Bell and his family. Ray served as New Mexico’s Game Warden from 1940 to 1957 and he was the first New Mexico Sate Forester from 1958 to 1971. The Interview took place on January 13, 2000. Ray Bell passed away on December 21, 2000, at 89.

The infamous village of Lincoln is just down the road from Capitan. By the time I reached it, it was dusk, and I just glanced at the many historical buildings as I passed through. It’s here that I learned I was driving the “Billy the Kid Trail,” and that State Highway 380 is the Village’s only street. Lincoln was the center of the Lincoln County War (1876-1879), and its historical ties to Billy the Kid are its main claim to fame today. It was a place where President Rutherford B. Hayes called its main street “the most dangerous street in America.” In this quiet one-street community, visitors can walk in the footsteps of Sheriff Pat Garrett, Billy the Kid, and other infamous characters involved in the Lincoln County War. The village holds an annual festival called Old Lincoln Days in August featuring an open-air enactment of The Last Escape of Billy the Kid. I will definitely be back.

I drove State Highway 380 until I reached State Highway 84 and eventually I-20 east. Driving on, I passed Dallas. I had heard it was a pretty busy city to get through and wanted to get it over with while everyone was sleeping. At 4:30 in the morning, I finally pulled over and slept. The next day I drove I-20 through the second half of Texas, through Louisiana, crossed the Mississippi River to Vicksburg (where one of the bloodiest battles of the Civil War took Place), crossed the state of Mississippi, and landed in Alabama. My resting point was in Leeds, Alabama, at a friendly and comfortable Hampton Inn. I was only six hours from my destination. However, my biggest challenge was about two hours away — driving through Atlanta. It is the epitome of perpetual rush-hour traffic.

I stayed with my sister Tam and her husband Bill in Concord. Tam is the minister of Rocky Ridge, one of the older churches in Concord. In fact, one member of the congregation, Kitty, has been attending since World War II, when she was ten-years-old. Kitty attended High Point College in North Carolina, on a scholarship. Back then, dorms were separated by gender. “The boys could come over to the girls’ dorm,” she told me, “but the girls could not go over to the boys’ dorm!” Kitty will turn 93 next month.

I tagged along with Tam and got a lesson in humanity. We sang Christmas Carols to congregation members, went to the store to buy canned goods and baked goods and then filled the pantry box that sits on the church property, and played lots of cards. Tam spends so many of her days in hospitals with her church members or taking some of them grocery shopping. She has so much responsibility and yet I never hear her complain. Her “Green Shoe” ministry feeds so many people. Once we filled the pantry box with bread and canned goods and other goodies, the next time we came to check on it, it was empty, so she filled it again. She keeps a close eye on it. She refuses to let anyone go hungry.

I stayed long enough to watch Tam give sermons on two different Sundays. It amazes me how confident and persuasive she is. I can’t help remembering my little sister growing up and how good she was. We always called her “goody-two-shoes.” She has found her calling, and I held back tears of pride as I sat and listened to her.

The people that I met in Concord were pretty amazing. Keith Dorton and his wife Patsy invited us to their annual Christmas party. Because I rarely go to car races, I did not know who he was. However, I found out that Keith Dorton is a legend when it comes to building race car engines — and that is huge in Concord, North Carolina, home to the Charlotte International Speedway.

He has been working on engines since he was 12-years-old when he restored an early vintage flathead Ford. He raced for a while, but decided to build engines instead and created a business in1965 called Automotive Specialist, Inc. (ASI) An article I found written in 2015, states that ASI received international recognition for having established nineteen SCAT-sanctioned World Land Speed Records at Bonneville Salt Flats events and for winning numerous races in various circle track venues, including a NASCAR Daytona 500. Dorton and his staff are credited with developing and building engines for a number of high-profile race car drivers, including the legendary Dale Earnhart and Dale’s father, Ralph, and Dale’s son, Dale Jr.” (Engine Builder Magazine; 2015). Today, at 80 years old, Dorton is still one of the most respected engine builders and is still in the business! Dorton’s staff includes his son Jeff, daughter Camille and wife Patsy.

That night at the party we enjoyed some of the best pulled pork, brisket and good ole southern Brunswick stew. All made by the Dorton family. Patsy even gave me a jar of stew to take home with me. 

Not only did we party with the Dortons, but we also went to hear some great Blue Grass Music by the Gibson Brothers with them, complete with incredible banjo and mandolin solos. Blue Grass music is exactly what you should listen to when you visit North Carolina. It was an amazing concert. Something I found endearing was that the bass player had just had heart surgery, at the same time I did, and they wrote a song for him.

My next destination was the east coast. My brother Jeff and his wife Denise set me up in a condo in North Myrtle Beach — just 30 minutes from Shallotte, NC, where my sister Li lives. It gave all of us girls a chance to spend Christmas together for the first time in years. I was supposed to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas Day at Li and Franco’s house, but they got sick early on and I was worried they might still be contagious. So on Christmas Day, I went and bought dinners from the Carolina Roadhouse in Myrtle Beach and we sat in a cabana, named “Cherry Grove,” on the beach overlooking the ocean.

I am always amazed at the stamina of my baby sister, Li. She has so many animals that she has never come to visit me in Arizona. Loving animals is a good thing, though. Li loves them so much that she never has a moment to herself. She spends hours feeding them and her phone spends a lot of time in her back pocket while she’s talking to me during our daily conversations. I can hear the brushes cleaning the water tank for her horse and I listen while she tells her many, many cats how much she loves them after cleaning their litter boxes. She has a Catahoola cattle dog named Roy and a tiny mixed terrier called Cricket. Recently, they adopted a severely abused hunting dog named Lucy. When she hears anything close to the sound of a gunshot, she screams and runs for cover. Franco just bought her first bed, and she is absolutely in love with it. She is such a sweet girl!

Li makes us dizzy when she joins our weekly sibling’s and cousin’s zoom call. We are either standing on our heads, staring at a lamp or the ceiling fan because she can’t keep still. Her days are filled with chores and they don’t end until she sits on the couch to watch TV, where she falls asleep, wakes up at three in the morning and finally goes to bed. Only to wake up and start all over again — because of her love for those animals.

I was fortunate to take this trip, and I saw many, many signs of heart. It is everywhere. In the gentle guidance of a mother with her children, in helping to feed people, finding your passion and taking it to the point others benefit by it and taking care of animals, but I also discovered how wonderful it is to be with the people you love. 



During my trip, we lost our good friend Norris Dodd. He was such a great human being and wildlife biologist, and we will sorely miss him. We also lost our good Friend Teri Pederson, who had just hiked with me on Mount Baldy. She always amazed me with her endurance. Our friend Bob Derosier, former owner of the Skiers Edge, had two major heart surgeries, but fortunately got to come home after spending 18 days in the hospital. We would like to say to the Dodd’s and the Pederson’s we are so sorry for your loss and we will miss them. To Bob Derosier, we are certainly cheering you on — stay healthy and heal quickly!