I've had a bee in my bonnet about trying Hatch Chiles thanks to topics like Hatch Chili Peppers and Celebrating New Mexico: traditions surrounding a fall chile roast, not to mention the posts of avid fans of the pepper like @Shelby. My web surfing turned up no possibilities for finding the chiles in shops in Hatch this many months after the harvest season (see later note), but I found The Hatch Chile Store in Las Cruces. Its shipping expenses, while probably justified, were prohibitive for us. We decided to stop by. Maybe the direct-pickup prices would be lower. We made plans to stop for the night at a campground between Hatch and Las Cruces and drive in to Las Cruces without the trailer.
Then, we looked at the map again. The most direct routes to the campground involved interstate freeway(s) through Las Cruces and possibly El Paso. Alternatively, we could go north through Deming, take a lesser highway toward Hatch, then follow yet another lesser highway southeastward along the Rio Grande to the park we'd chosen.
We went north. Deming is the place we do most of our errand-running, but only on this trip did I notice a little park with benches and shade and a fun fountain.
Once through town we turned northeast, along a highway that was in better condition than our road map had suggested. We skirted the edge of hills, looking down onto range land, until we saw this:
Fellow campers had told us that Sparky's was THE best place to eat burgers - "their green chile burger is the very best!" they had said - but it was too early for lunch. On the other hand, this sight induced us to pull over to the curb:
Why I didn't see places like this when I looked online I don't know. (Today, as I write, I DO see one or two 
.) We pulled over for a look. It looked promising.
The gated courtyard at the side had the requisite equipment.
I went in. The place was chock-a-block full of enticing pepper-related foods: spices, salsa, ground peppers, ristras, and the aromas to go with it all. An alarm sounded from an adjoining room. After a few unlikely shrieks I realized it was a macaw or parrot: never seen to identify, easily heard to categorize.
It soon developed that the young woman's English was about as good as my Spanish. There ensued a lively pidgin conversation in which she said yes, they had chiles roasted, peeled and frozen. She took me to a back room and a chest freezer. There were 5-pound bags of roasted, peeled and chopped peppers (the choices were mild, hot and extra-hot) for $9 each. There were 5-pound bags of roasted, peeled and whole medium-hot peppers (perfect for stuffing) for $8 each. Which would I like? I dithered. I knew I didn't want extra hot. Would hot be too hot? Would mild be too bland? What the heck. I took a bag of each. Who knows when or whether we'll be back this way?
By this time the dam of my self-restraint had burst. I perused the bags of finely ground and coarsely crushed peppers, and selected a variety. My darling perused the salsas, and chose two.
I even fell for a ristra and a ceramic tile. She gave me a deal, unasked, on the last. We'd probably made her sales quota for the day.
This was much, much, much more fun than finding a campsite, disconnecting the trailer and navigating our way into Las Cruces, even though Google Maps said it was would be easy to get to the Hatch Chile Store. It was a great deal of fun to work through linguistic difficulties with a charming person who couldn't help me much. I thanked her, we waved goodby, and resolutely went *past* the store next door. I do love pottery. I wasn't going to go there at the moment.
Best of all, we were able to scope out the chosen park, reject it and continue on our way into the middle of New Mexico. We're going home by a different route than usual. We'll be sorry to miss Texas, but we're seeing new country.
