“We look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen.” 2 Corinthians 4:18
I don’t know if I believe in aliens, but I stayed up all night looking at Archuleta Mesa for them, and I didn’t see anything.
Archuleta Mesa is the central geographic feature of Dulce, New Mexico, the heart of the Jicarilla Apache Nation. There is tribal government housing, a casino and hotel, one grocery store, and after the stand-off shootout that happened last summer at the Philip’s 66, there’s only one gas station. In 2009, 120 people from around the world and the area attended the Dulce Underground UFO Base Conference. One local in attendance was Horacio Garcia.
I know Garcia well. I know his kids and family and have spent time with them. Big, kind, with baggy pants, bandana often tied low on his forehead and tattoos covering his arms, he is known for his knowledge on aliens. In December 2011, I asked him about the Greys and the Dulce Alien Base.
“I don’t have to tell you anything. In a few weeks, everybody will know. The aliens will reveal themselves,” Garcia said.
A few weeks passed, and I felt, thought, saw and believed the same. If I was looking at aliens or alien artifacts, I didn’t see them. Yet many claim to have seen strange and bizarre sights in Dulce and Lumberton, New Mexico—coyotes that turn into humans, big orbs of light floating in the valleys, dogs that run faster than a speeding car, Bigfoot, cow fetuses with the face of a tiger—and aliens, specifically, the Greys.
In 1976, cattle were found mutilated at the Gomez Ranch. The cattle that the Gomezes found on their ranch had organs missing. Various parts of the cows were taken, sexual organs taken. All this was done, some say, so that the government and the Greys could conduct genetic experimentation. The family is not sure what happened to the cattle. They blame the government.
Since moving here six years ago I have heard these stories told. The first story I heard when I came to town came from a group of women, holy ladies; some say they were nuns. They had gone to a religious conference two hours west in Farmington. They weren’t intoxicated—this point is always stressed in each telling—and they weren’t the type to get intoxicated. It was late, everything was dark, and then, in their headlights, directly in the path of their van, an image became defined. It was on two feet. It was a little taller than a human. Coming from its torso was a long thick tale covered in gray scales swaying back and forth across the width of the road. As they swerved to miss the creature, they all saw that it had the face of a reptile—a reptilian Grey, one of the two types of aliens that live in the tunnels and seven-level military base underneath Archuleta Mountain. They are bipeds, have scales and sometimes appear like radiant beings.
Sarah Landis, fifth grade teacher, has heard similar stories. She ran into people on a plane coming back from her Christmas vacation: “They’d heard of Lumberton. ‘That’s the place where there’s aliens.’ They said that Archuleta Mountain has seven levels, security gets tighter as you go down. They had a friend that went all the way down to the seventh level, but when he went back up he couldn’t remember.”
Still, she doesn’t believe. “I personally think it’s bullshit. I’m more of a ‘see it to believe it’ type of person,” Landis said.
But what of those that have seen images, unexplainable, but only images? Marlon Talamante, born and raised in the area, has heard and has seen something.“I saw a video of some weird looking creature on someone’s cell phone. They were filming as they drove. I don’t know what it was, but it was a strange looking thing, pretty big, on two feet, and it was running fast. I didn’t get a good look at it. I only watched it once, you know? The Apaches say that if you look at an image of them, their soul will jump into your body. I’m not Apache, but I don’t want that.”
When Talamante is asked whether or not he believes in aliens, he says, “The universe seems too big for us to be the only ones.” When asked if he thinks they live under Dulce, he shrugs his shoulders.
There are those that have seen with their own eyes. They are the true believers. “Two of them (aliens) were riding in the backseat of my car,” a local expert (who wishes to remain anonymous) said. “I would have been terrified,” I responded. “No. You have nothing to worry about. You are safe,” he told me. He then said that clones of people he knew in town had visited him. “The aliens have that power?”, I asked. “Yes.”
This local expert was at the Dulce Underground Alien Base Conference. He was asked to be interviewed by the History Channel when they filmed episodes of “Ancient Aliens” and “UFO Hunters” in Dulce. Both times he declined. “It’s well known for its alien activity, and people will come in and look around and then go,” the local expert says. “They miss so much. The richness is missed.”
The richness is all around, in the details, in the sky, in the air, in the faces staring at you from rocks; it is all around, but you have to look. You have to pursue it with an open mind and open eyes. But if you don’t believe it exists, would you pursue the unknown? Even though Landis thinks the stories of aliens are bullshit, there is doubt in her disbelief: “Would I take a night trip to try to find the entrance to the base? Absolutely, I would.”
When she goes, I wonder—will she be able to see if she doesn’t believe?
Photo by Norm Roulet.