Adventures in New Mexico

The mission at Acoma Pueblo.

Twenty years ago, I was finished with my first year of veterinary school, and ready to get away from thinking a bit. I also wished to travel, and for the first time ever, did so with more than a four legged friend. BTK and I set out from Connecticut in a soft top jeep, my dog drooling over our shoulders- on patrol- and hauling a small UHaul trailer. It was an adventure to an area previously unimagined by my east coast brain. New Mexico; the land of enchantment. It was a wonderful summer, certainly light on brain usage. I did get a job (working in a bridal shop) and learned the joys of truly spicy food- until New Mexico, my idea of "spice" was things like cinnamon, clove and basil.  I had many good memories of that time, and a trip back, 20 years later gets to test their wear. They wear well. Huz was slated for attending the veterinary radiology meeting in Albequerque, I was slated to be day time adventurer, night time arm candy ( that is in my brain only. Huz is gracious but not dellusional.) I spent one day walking Albequerque- in defiance of the "do not walk or jog alone" admonishment on our check in papers. This walk- for it is purposeful and fast- took me to Old Town for some wonderful shopping and Museums for wonderful art and history. Now, let me say, Old Town is about as dangerous as Disney World, and I didn't see any gang members at the museums either. In fact, in 7 hours of walking, I saw the same street person 4 times, old friends now,  three schoolyards of children, a few mothers with strollers, and a fellow collecting his dry cleaning. My way between the hotel was through the beautiful neighborhoods built just prior to and at "the turn of the century" (which still in my lexicon means 1900.) There is a mix of Adobe and Victorian houses, then some later Arts and Crafts homes with an occasional new-made-to -look-old build in the stew.
On another day, I hopped on the train to Santa Fe. The trip between the Sandia Mountains (Albequerque) and the Sangre de Cristos(Santa Fe) is largely through dedicated Reservation lands. And, seeing as the train managed to hit a horse, and all the signals were out throughout the reservation (someone making off with the copper) I had a long time to enjoy the scenery. And, I did. Perhaps in another blog I will elaborate. It involves dry river bed, bleached bones, car door fences and seeing "Real Indians Here! As featured in Look and Life Magazines!".
Santa Fe was as beautiful as I remember. The weather was so glorious I spent the day walking the streets, and only popped into a few galleries- with some lovely art- and one set down at Cafe Pasquale where I met Jessica and her mom, Linda and did some sightseeing with them.
Huz missed out on that adventure too, but we were feeding ourselves well each night.
The next day was our last, and Huz decided to play a bit of hooky and come adventuring with me. Yay! So, we rented a car and drove west to Acoma Pueblo. I remember Acoma of 1991, and believe me, it has changed. Not the lack of plumbing or electricity on top of the mesa (mesa? think, flat desert, then, someone inside the earth pokes a large chunk up with a finger. Flat on top, rock walls on sides) but the prosperity of the whole place was in great contrast to the deep poverty of 20 years ago. It all became clear when our guide mentioned the Acoma Hotel, RV Park and Casino opened in 1996. Our guide was a pretty, smart, funny young Acoma woman, who has returned after college. The buildings on the mesa were in good shape and the pottery was a beautiful as ever. 20 years ago, I purchased a small jewelery box from a young Acoma girl. It was primitive, but very well made. This time, we bought a traditional hand thrown and decorated pot of Acoma style. Very pretty.
As the sun lowered in the sky, we carefully made our way off of the mesa in the manner used since 1150. The "stairs". So enchanting, and difficult to imagine doing up and down every day, maybe several times.
Our rented Hyundai pointed back to the east, we made our way across the desert and back to the base of the Sandia Mountains for a trip UP. The tramway took my breath away. Literally, hard to breathe through the surety that any moment a cable will snap and I'll have eight whole seconds to think before being smashed to smithereens. Evidently,  I don't do heights so well now as I did 20 years ago. But, at the top, a martini and sunset over the city was a good enough reason to keep breathing. And, it was breathtaking in a different way. Cold, to be sure, snow, wind, all the things you'd expect of a mountain top and views, just as amazing as I remember.
At the bottom? A drive to the Albequerque institution, "Sadie's" for papitas fritas con frijoles, also as good as I remember. Huz indulged in the sopapillas- better in New Mexico than anywhere- and told me 20 years has not diminished the taste of warm puffed dough in honey. Lucky.

Dinner at the Church St. Cafe, Old Town, Albequerque

Loreto Chapel and the "Miracle Stair", Santa Fe. One continuous piece of carpentry, with two 360 degree turns, originally made without any railing for the nuns and girls of the Loreto school.

Canyon Road, Santa Fe, with many wonderful artist's  galleries.

A favorite house in Santa Fe. I could live here.

There is art everywhere in Santa Fe.

Even performance art on the Plaza.

Acoma Pueblo, atop the mesa.

A cistern- the original sole source of water for the pueblo, atop the mesa.

Huz and me atop the mesa, Acoma.

The stair to the bottom.

Me , almost to the bottom!

An Acoma pottery vessel.

The tramway to the Sandias. Built by helicopter in the early 1960s, the ride was beautiful (which I could appreciate, even while contemplating the Armageddon Hollywood ending).

Huz in the sunset, atop the Sandia Mountains, Albequerque

Albequerque alight from atop the Sandias. Fortified by a green apple martini, and shrouded by the security of darkness, the ride down was much easier.

Each morning, after sunrise, balloons would go up in the distance and float towards our hotel. We missed the Balloon Festival, but the regular balloon traffic was still enough to pull me out of bed to sit and watch.