The first couple of days were spent in Albuquerque. Our initial plans were to ride the tram up Sandia Peak -- the longest tram in the world. However, dressed for 5000 feet above sea level (and not for a colder 10,000 feet above sea level), kept us on the ground. The snow and frigid temps up above deterred our going up and we decided to return the next day more suitably dressed. So, we headed for a visit with Rosemary Bledsoe, a friend from San Francisco, who had recently moved to Albuquerque to be nearer to her daughter and family. We had a nice visit with R.B. and her beautiful granddaughter, Aeryn. She gave us some good leads of what to do in the area. Lunch that day was at The Frontier and was followed by a walk around the campus of UNM and its wonderful contemporary sculptures. This one that Carleen photographed raised many questions -- not least of which was -- were these actually 2 men?
Later that day we headed to Old Town and were treated to an enactment of a Wild West skit with drunk men and unhappy wives and loud guns loaded with blanks. And we headed for a restaurant suggested by my friend Duane Garrett and found it closed. Ended up picking another restaurant nearby, managing to get in before it too closed (at 6:30 pm!).
In the morning we ventured forth to Petroglyph National Monument http://www.nps.gov/petr/ where there are more than 20,000 images of people, animals, insects, and geometric designs created in the rock centuries ago. In 1986 the entire 17-mile escarpment was placed on the National Register of Historic Places and in 1990 it was designated a National Monument. To the American Indians the entire monument is a sacred landscape and stories are passed on from generation to generation. In addition to the rocks and the geology of the place, it was where we first began to notice the native plants of the area. The shades of green go from richly verdant to almost tan. This spectrum was omnipresent throughout our trip. All week long we were bombarded by colors of these plants and the freshness of the Spring greens in the new leafing on the aspens and cottonwoods...plus the stupifying cloud formations. Cameras do not do any of it justice, so we tried to commit to memory each hue and form for later replica-tion (in our artwork -- each of us likes to think (s)he is an artist! -- ahem!).
Leaving Petroglyph, we headed for the Turquoise Trail, a national scenic byway between Albuquerque and Santa Fe. http://www.turquoisetrail.org/ It proved to be a jaw-dropping incredulous 62 mile-long drive that wended its way through spectacular wide-open country. Each winding turn along the 2 lane road brought us to yet more stunning vistas. Small towns along the way seemed forgotten in time. That is... until we reached ...Madrid. http://www.turquoisetrail.org/stops/category/madrid/ We soon learned it's "Mad' rid" and found many local artists in their shops and galleries. One shop, http://www.colorlightarts.com/ was particularly wonderful with its artists' offerings and its equally wonderful proprietor named Suzie who hippily moved west from Albany NY in the 70's. Needless to say, we used some of our spending money there. We lunched at "The Hollar" where the outside world had already met up with Madrid. http://thehollarrestaurant.com/index.html We each had a salad with goat cheese and roasted peppers among the greens and veggies, al fresco. It was perfect!In Santa Fe, our accomodations at the Villas de Santa Fe (on Griffin St. which is near to impossible to find) turned out to be small condos. (Priceline was good to us, folks!) We each had a living room and a kitchen in addition to a large bedroom. We each had two TV's too (I guess one was for video games!). That evening, we went off to find a local grocery to stock our refrigerators with yoghurts, salsas, juices, etc. Also that evening I began a serious bout with altitude "sickness." Lightheadedness to the point of falling over and what seemed like extra pressure on my chest kept me inside the next morning, while Carleen went out walking. But that afternoon I joined her and we spent time at the Georgia Okeeffe Museum on Johnson St. With short documentaries and docent-lead tours, Miss O'Keeffe's place in the art world came to life (as did I).
That evening we had dinner at the gorgeous Santa Fe home of Car's friend, Susie Chapin, and her partner Doug Smith. Small world that it is, it took no time to find out that Susie has a sister here in Healdsburg and that Doug and I both worked for Avon 3 floors apart at 9 W 57th St in NYC during the same years in the 1970's. Dinner was wonderful with a roasted chicken as the star. As a "high-altitude roasted chicken," it required a higher temp to cook and took twice as long as down here near sea level. So the lively evening went on a bit longer than usual.
The next morning, we enjoyed The Santa Fe Plaza, the Cathedral and Basilica of St. Francis of Assisi (patron saint of Santa Fe), and world famous Canyon Road full of art galleries. Do you know that Santa Fe is the third largest market for art in the US behind NYC and LA? One amazing artist we both liked is Nigel Conway, who exhibits at the gallery called gf contemporary, http://www.gfcontemporary.com/. Click on "artists" and then on "Nigel Conway." His lovely wife, Sabine - in her "thrift shop" Prada skirt, spent a goodly amount of time with us. (their home is in Mad'-rid on the Turquoise Trail). Nigel says his art comes from the stripping of masks and societal roles. Take a look, you might concur!
We then hopped in our car and started the drive to Taos. We took the "high road" so we could visit Santuario de Chimayo, the place everyone tells us to get the "holy dirt." It is located in a Spanish Colonial settlement established in 1740. http://chimayo.us/ Upon entering the town, we first visited the Chimayo Museum, a small 3 room adobe, with typical viga style roof and dirt floors, down a gravel path and across a snow-melt ice-cold rushing stream. http://www.chimayomuseum.org/ On exhibit were high school students' artwork -- from paintings and sculptures to jewelry, woven cloth and rugs. We voted for our favorites and then proceeded in our quest of the holy dirt.
We soon arrived at the Santuario, which is a very old church on a large tract of land alongside a river swollen with spring run-off from the nearby mountains. In small dark rooms off the sanctuary we found walls lined with forsaken crutches and walkers, and then we spied the holy dirt. There was a hole approximately a foot in diameter in the middle of the floor of a small room. It was filled with sandy dirt. I don't know if the dirt automatically multiplies occasionally to keep the hole filled or if someone brings some in periodically, but it was full at the moment I was there. As I filled a small plastic container with some, we broke with the solemnity of the place and wondered together what the result would be if we mixed the holy dirt with holy water! Dear Lord, forgive me, please!
Back on the high road we stopped at a small restaurant called Rancho de Chimayo for lunch. http://www.ranchodechimayo.com/restaurante/restaurante.htm A wonderful chicken fajita salad and another notch in our unbroken string of good eateries (don't you just love mixed metaphors?)!
Most of the week, there was so much sky visible from horizon to horizon that we could see several distinct weather systems all around us, yet miles away. Towards our arrival in Taos, we knew we were in for an afternoon thunderstorm. The rains came and were severe but they also left very quickly. We were soon able to poke around the Plaza de Taos and made reservations for dinner at Doc Martins at the venerable Taos Inn near the Plaza http://www.taosinn.com/restaurant.html.
I think Doc Martins might be the place to be when one is in Taos. In any case, not being in the know, nothing else in town looked appealing. This place, with a lively jazz band in one room, was jumping with life. And the menu was lively as well. Carleen ordered rattlesnake and rabbit sausage as a first course and my main dish was wild boar spare ribs. After waiting a long while to be served, we heard a loud crash and saw our ready-to-serve dishes fall off a service table. After sweeping up the broken china mixed with bits of rattlesnake, rabbit, and wild boar, our poor waiter asked if we could be patient as the chef would have to start over. In the end, our meals were worth waiting for. I did decline, however, an offer "to taste" the sausage!
After a good night's sleep punctuated by another amazing hail and thunder storm with wind howling outside the rooms' windows, we enjoyed our complimentary full breakfast and then headed off to the Pueblo de Taos http://www.taospueblo.com/.
We arrived at the pueblo after a rainy night so the unpaved streets of the pueblo were almost ankle deep in mud -- a mud unlike any I've seen back east or in California. This mud's consistency is quite thick (and very slippery). It caked our shoes until the next day. It is, indeed, a perfect building material.
Upon first entering the pueblo we came across the ruins of an ancient church and a cemetery still in use. With just simple wooden crosses, it had a striking beauty.
We walked around the pueblo for a few hours. No running water, no electricity, and all cooking is done in wood fire ovens. While some of the buildings are fairly new, others are over 1000 years old. Most receive an annual repair coat of new adobe. Many of them have ladders leading to the roofs. I found out that in olden days there were no doors to the buildings. To gain entry one climbed the ladder to a roof where there was an opening for entry and for sunlight. This served as protection as well. They just pulled up the ladders and foes were held at bay. The Red Willow River runs through the center of the pueblo and provides all the water for the residents. In addition to the flat land where the structures are located, the pueblo lands include many square miles of land up the sides of the nearby mountains.
Slipping, sliding, and squishing our way back to our car, we took off our adobified shoes (which could have kept each of us at the bottom of the East River for weeks) and started our journey west to Abiquiu and Ghost Ranch http://www.ghostranch.org/.
Ghost Ranch was given to the Presbyterian Church in the 1955 by the Pack family. For the 19 years I worked at Old First Church, pastoral staff and congregants would flock to Ghost Ranch each summer for a couple of weeks of rest, relaxation, and stimulating educational courses. I never seemed to get there. So, If there was one place I wanted to be on this trip to New Mexico, it was Ghost Ranch – if only to see what all the fuss was about!
The drive from Taos to Abiquiu was spectacular. Several times as we rounded a bend, we had a “Holy Cow” or “OMIGOD” moment and had to pull over to be part of what was in front of us. The geology of the region and the colors of the hills and cliffs were awe inspiring.
As we got closer to the Ranch, the level of spectacular-ness increased. By the time we arrived at the Ranch it seemed we had just been through a live travelogue. We checked in at the office, got directions to our cabin, and got our meal tickets for dinner. We had a small cabin with 2 bedrooms and a living room. Adobe with the Southwestern architectural highlights, including viga ceilings. Quietness prevailed – except for a few minutes of sudden hail. Our 24 hours there were not filled with Southwestern Sunshine. Clouds and showers were the name of the game.
Carleen found (yet another) labyrinth and a hiking trail that afternoon, and off she went to add to her miles of steps she was giving to a charity. (She did at least 5 miles each day that week (some going in circles) to accumulate more than the 100 miles pledged for the month of April!).
I was able to hook up with a docent-led tour of the private acres and acres of the vistas made famous by Georgia O’Keeffe in her painti
ngs. 
http://www.ghostranch.org/museums--activities/georgia-okeeffe--tours.html
Miss O’Keeffe in 1940 talked Arthur Pack into selling her his own residence, called Rancho de los Burros, and 7 acres surrounding the house, and he built himself another home on the Ranch. After her husband, Alfred Steiglitz, died in 1946 she left the east coast and moved to her houses in Abiquiu and Ghost Ranch full-time.
We spent about an hour and a half stopping at various places around the Ranch where she painted a particular picture. We were able to drive down some private Ranch roads to see her home (now owned by a Foundation set up to preserve her legacy). http://www.nps.gov/history/nr/feature/wom/1999/o
Dinner was early (i.e. 5 pm early!). We managed not to show up until 5:45 pm and then enjoyed our cafeteria-style excellent tacos. After dinner, we spent some time in the 24/7 Ranch Library, catching up with a week’s supply of newspapers. Carleen did some more walking and I turned in early.
After a very peaceful cozy night’s sleep at the Ranch's Cedar Cabin we finished our breakfast, did some catching up with emails on the computers, and departed. We were heading back to Albuquerque where we had tickets to The Gathering of Nations. But not before we stopped at Bode’s, the general store in Abiquiu. (Abiquiu constists of this store and the Post Office, I think). http://bodes.com/. Take a look!
We got to Albuquerque early and were able to check in at The Hampton Inn. Of all the Priceline lodgings we were at this week, this was by far the most plush and one of the least expensive. Wonderful beds with many down pillows and duvet, soft thick towels, and refrigerator and microwave in each room. And a “Business Center” open to guests with internet and fax service, free copier, paper, desk supplies, etc.
The Gathering of Nations is the getting-together of more than 100 Native American tribes for their annual pow-wow. This year it was held outdoors at the stadium of the University of New Mexico. http://www.gatheringofnations.com/.On Friday we were able to attend the contests held for the various nations to present their dances. The dancers were judged and prizes were awarded. We were overwhelmed by the beauty of the native outfits – hundreds of them. I’ve never seen so many feathers and beads and so much doeskin. Most of the outfits made noise as well – like the rustle of beads or the jangle of bells. It was truly festive – and organized as well.
This is a photo of the young girls' dance of the shawls. But who would have thought that sitting in a stadium in April in New Mexico that we would be freezing our tushes off. Well we were, so we left the stadium after a couple of hours and headed into town for dinner.
We had stopped for drinks earlier in the week at a very nice place (also recommended by Duane) called Seasons. See website. We weren’t hungry that first night so we didn’t eat there, but were impressed by the menu. So we headed back there this night. What a providential decision! Carleen ordered artichoke raviolis and the best margarita she says has ever had. I ordered pan-seared sea scallops with bulgar & wild rice and chanterelles. The scallops literally melted in my mouth. The meal was the best meal of the week for each of us.
I’ll remember Albuquerque as the place where my last activities as a visitor were dining on perfect sea scallops and sleeping with clouds of down pillows. Soon it was 6:00 am on Saturday and we had to get to the airport for our trips home – Carleen to Connecticut and I to California. What a fabulous week!
Thanks Car for the great number of your photographs I swiped for this blog!
