November 27, 2005

While most people spend their thanksgiving in a warm house, surrounded by family and friends, toasting glasses of wine, enjoying a bounty of roast turkey, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, stuffing, candied yams, etc... mine was spent alone, shivering in a frosty car in the middle of nowhere, and eating enchiladas for dinner.   Before you allow yourself to become overcome with pity, I must explain the circumstances.

First, in my current situation of working in corporate America, four day weekends are few and far between so when they do come around, I feel the need to partake in some sort of adventure.   Second, while northing can quite take the place of mom and grandma's thanksgiving dinner, I had already scheduled a visit for Christmas, and two trips to Michigan in one month is hard to swing.   Third, I actually enjoy traveling alone.   Not that I wouldn't enjoy doing a trip like this with a good mate, but I'm not going to let the lack of an available companion come between me and a good time.   And fourth, and most importantly, I had never been to New Mexico (save for the one foot placed in the northwest corner of the state during a childhood visit to the Four Corners National Monument).   Those were all the reasons I needed to embark on this brief trip to Land of Enchantment.

Sand Dunes

Wednesday night I slept in the Great Sand Dunes National Park, about 4.5 hours southwest of Boulder.   This is one of strangest and most intriguing places in the State: a sea of rolling sand dunes surrounded by 14,000-foot mountains.   It's as if a 40 square miles of the Sahara desert were somehow dropped in the middle of the Colorado Rockies.   I was the only car in the campground that night and was literally the only soul to hike up the dunes the next morning. I got up at 6:00 AM as the sky was just turning from black to a soft blue glow, and hiked up to the highest dune.   From there, I watched the sun peek over the mountains and flood the dunes with a brilliant golden light, creating a scene I have not ever experienced before. Amazing.  

Taos

Somehow I pictured Taos being a quaint Aspen-esque artsy ski town hidden in New Mexico.   I was wrong.   On Thanksgiving Day I drove from the Sand Dunes down US-285 to Taos.   I drove straight through the town before I even realized I had gone through it.   There is no downtown!   (This happens to be a pet peeve of mine: cities that don't have an obvious downtown.   Without a downtown, there is no place to start from, no soul or roots, you know what I mean?).   So I turned around and chose a nice looking coffee shop (The World Cup) as my starting point.   After a strong cup of espresso, my spirits lifted and I started to enjoy this quiet, dusty town.   I admired my first glimpse of real southwestern architecture, peered in the windows of shops selling hand woven rugs, baskets and tourist curios, and strolled down the side streets looking for a quality restaurant.   I finally settled on the Apple Tree, a lovely little restaurant in an adobe building, serving turkey blue corn enchiladas, wild rice, and pasole.   It was fabulous.

I also visited the nearby Taos Pueblo village, which is one of the oldest settlements in the country that's still inhabited by natives.   The adobe structures seen in this village are the basis from which Southwestern architecture as we know it is derived from.   Stray dogs napped in quiet alleyways as I walked through the dusty streets of this old village.   I could see shopkeepers watching me from within the shadows of their earthen homes but I didn't dare walk in knowing that I would eventually have to reject their offer to purchase whatever touristy knickknack they were selling.   So, sadly I had no interaction with any of the locals, but I did admire their wonderful homes.

Bandolier National Monument

Thanksgiving night I slept in Bandolier National Monument, about 1.5 hours from Taos and 20 miles from Los Alamos.   Again, I slept in my car, bundled in fleece pants, down jacket, hat, socks and inside a down sleeping bag.   Still, I woke up at 3:00 AM shivering.   I used to think all of New Mexico was a warm, sunny dessert covered with cactus and sagebrush, and running was possible year 'round in shorts and t-shirt.   That was until I realized most of the northern part of the State is above 7,000 feet, which makes it similar - if not slightly cooler - than the climate we experience in Boulder.   Oh well.   Friday morning I went for a great two hour run up Frijoles Canyon inside this Park.   I ran by ancient shelters carved out of the soft volcanic tuff, which formed the sides of the steep canyon walls.

Jemez Springs

After two cold nights in a row, I was anxious to find some hot springs that this area of New Mexico is known for.   I found them in Jemez Springs, a small native village about 1 hour north of Albuquerque.   The springs were fed into a lovely stone pool situated on the edge of the Jemez River.   I spent an hour going back and forth between the freezing cold river and soothing hot pool while the sun set behind the brilliant red cliffs of the canyon.

Santa Fe

I finished off my trip in the capital city, and most famous of all New Mexican cities: Santa Fe. For some reason, I was really drawn to Santa Fe.   I just had a feeling I was going to like it.   I arrived just as it was beginning to get dark, and unlike Taos, I was immediately drawn to the city's main Plaza.   It seemed half the city was milling about the beautiful square; a live band played Christmas carols and luminarios lined the rooftops of surrounding buildings and sidewalks. Children sold hot chocolate and hawkers still crowded the sidewalks selling turquoise jewelry and woven baskets.   At dinner time, I found the restaurant that had been recommended to me by a couple from Albuquerque I met in the hot springs.   The Shed is a Santa Fe institution specializing in green chili soup, enchiladas smothered in red chili sauce, and pasole. I ordered all three, along with a pint of local pale ale, and slipped away into culinary ecstasy. It was delicious.

Walking back to my car through the plaza I began wandering where I would sleep that night.   The previous two nights I had been in national   or state parks where it was easy to find a place to quietly park my car for the night.   Tonight, however, I was in the second busiest city of the state and camp sites were hard to come by.   Just as this thought occurred to me, I bumped into a good friend from college - Ian Robbins - who was saying goodbye to some friends.   He was in Santa Fe visiting his mother, and invited me to stay with him for the weekend.   This just reaffirms my belief that fortune smiles on the curious and that things always   seem to fall into place when you commit to an adventure with an open mind.

So Ian and I had a great weekend together.   We had a big night out on Friday, with glasses of wine at the Paris Café, followed by beers at the Pink Adobe's Dragon Room, and a few other places I can't remember.   Also had some great meals around town and walked the gallery strip on Canyon Road.   I also found some stellar trail runs up in the hills.

Spending a few days alone - in my car, walking the dunes, running in the sagebrush, reading newspapers in coffee shops, and sweating over a spicy enchilada sauce - allowed me to ponder a few things:

My dirtbag traveling days are numbered.   I just can't do it like I used to.   Only five years ago I was traveling the world on $10/day.   Sleeping in seedy guesthouses, subsisting on only the bare essentials for food, and traveling on overnight bus rides that left permanent kinks in my back and chicken feathers in my ears.   And now?   Sure, I'm still able to find comfort sleeping in a freezing car in the back woods of new mexico, despite shivering through the night and not being able to straighten my legs... but only after I've had a three course meal and a nice glass of wine.   I even found myself lusting over the ritzy spas in Santa Fe. I guess it's an evolution I'll have to accept, but doing little adventures like this reminds me there is still some pleasure in roughing it.  

Travel beta

Taos

• Apple Tree -- quality southwestern fare, good service and beautiful adobe interior
• World Cup coffee shop - independently owned and plays great music

Jemez Springs

• Giggling Springs - nice natural hot springs, but commercial.   Free versions are available further north in the canyon but they require a 1-2 mile hike and can be hard to find.

Santa Fe

• The Shed - A Santa Fe institution serving excellent southwestern food.   Try the green chili soup and anything with pasole. one block off the main plaza.
• the cafe paris - Owned by a French man and his French/Polynesian wife.   Best home made pastries in town (classic French varieties) and a great selection of French wine.   If you're lucky, you'll catch the wife and a friend playing accordion and tambourine to French music.   Too bad it's a bit expensive.
• Pink Adobe (Dragon Room) - cool place to have a drink or two or three on the weekend.
• Dale Ball Trails - a sweet network of rolling singletrack trails in the sagebrush hills above Santa Fe.   Ideal for mountain biking but also good for trail runs (loops range from 2 to 17 miles).