Entries about santa fe

The Hotel Blue in Albuquerque, where we had spent the night, prides itself on its ‘pressure relieving Tempur-Pedic mattresses’ and I was amazed at how comfortable it was, while Chris declared this the best sleep he’d had in ages (despite an incident when I got up to use the bathroom in the night, to discover that a single switch operated both bathroom and main bedroom lights, and thus I had no choice but to flood the room with light, thus waking him!)

The hotel provides a complimentary if simple breakfast which we took advantage of – fruit juice, yoghurt, bread, waffles (make your own) etc. They proudly announced that they serve Starbucks coffee, but it was nevertheless far too weak for my taste, as usual.

The Turquoise Trail

It is possible to drive from Albuquerque to Santa Fe in a couple of hours, taking I25, but we had all day and the slower route to the east, another of the state’s scenic byways known as the Turquoise Trail, looked much more appealing. Named for the former turquoise mines in the region, this road (Highway 14) takes you through a series of one-time boom mining towns which are for the most part now very small and sleepy.

So we headed east out of town for a few miles on I40 before turning north, starting our explorations with a couple of sights close to the city.

Sandia Peak

A very popular excursion from Albuquerque is to take the Sandia Peak Tramway to the top of the mountains that fringe the eastern side of the city, for the view and for the outdoor pursuits available there (walking in the summer, skiing in the winter). We hadn’t had time for that while exploring the city yesterday. But there is another way to visit these mountains, by car. So we started our journey to Santa Fe with a detour off Highway 14 along Highway 536, or Crest Road as it is called. This is slow and winding, not a road to be driven in a hurry.

Soon after turning off from Highway 14 we passed the entrance to the Tinkertown Museum, which we planned to visit later, and shortly after this the road started to climb. It was late September and as we climbed we found that the trees, still green at lower altitudes, were starting to take on their autumn hues. There were several stands of aspens that were especially marvellous, and we found ourselves stopping several times to take photos, as around each bend there appeared to be an even more magnificent group.

By the time we reached the peak we were at 10,678 feet above sea level. The large parking lot was nearly empty. We paid the required $3 fee (operated on an honour pay system) and took the path which climbed a short distance higher to a view of the city spread out beneath us.

I expected to see the Tramway terminus and be surrounded by the crowds who choose that route up, but we found that this spot is a couple of miles north of that and consequently much quieter. There were useful information boards along the path pointing out the landmarks that can be seen (including a distant Mount Taylor) and describing the geology and natural history of the area.

We spent some time admiring the view and taking photos, glad that we had warm tops in the car – the thermometer in our car had dropped from 70 Fahrenheit to 58 in the course of the drive up.

We then retraced our route down the Crest Road to the aforementioned museum.

Tinkertown

As soon as I read about Tinkertown I knew that it was a ‘must see’. We both love these idiosyncratic places that seem to define a US road trip for us – and this is one of the best we have come across. If you are anywhere in the area I urge you to go – you’ll have great fun and even maybe find yourself a little moved by the dedication of the one man who created it.

So many of these quirky folk-art museums are the result of one person’s obsession. In this case that person was Ross Ward. It took him over 40 years to create the huge number of models and scenarios that make up Tinkertown, and it’s easy to believe that it took that long once you start to explore. As he said, ‘I did all this while you were watching TV’. A sign inside explains:

‘Tinkertown was begun as a hobby in 1962. The little General Store came first (it was all I intended to build at the time!) 90% of this display was built by myself. The buildings are scraps form my sign business and the people are wood-carved or made of clay. Many of the furnishings are antique toys and miniatures. I did it all “a dollar at a time” without a grant or a bank loan! You can do the same no matter what your project!’

The fun started as soon as we pulled up in the car. There are old signs galore, wagon wheels, saddles, other Wild West paraphernalia dotted around the site, while the wall that surrounds the museum is made up of over 50,000 glass bottles – recycling gone crazy! Once we’d finished exploring and taking photos outside (at no charge), we paid just $3 each to enter the rambling museum, where we were transported to another world!

The first section, which was probably my favourite, consists of a row of dioramas depicting different buildings on a sort of Wild West theme. There’s the General Store already mentioned, a hotel, a Native American Trader, a pharmacy with a doctor’s surgery above and many more. Some are animated, all are fascinating and repay careful scrutiny – there are just so many amusing details. Here a man with a cleaver chases chickens in a circle, the doctor ogles a young female patient while his nurse glares at him, men fight in the street, couples ride by in wagons and children play.

In other sections we saw Ward’s various eclectic collections from over the years, including wedding cake couples, antique tools, bullet pencils, dolls and more. Later models are on a grander scale, especially the circus, complete with big top, cages of animals, trapeze act – the list goes on.

Many of the models are animated. When we paid for our entry we were given a quarter back to put into the first animation, a hillbilly band ‘Rusty Wyer and the Turquoise Trail Riders’. We were glad however that we also had a few quarters with us to use on the other models we came to later in our tour – the Boot Hill Cemetery in particular was a must!

Oh, and hidden among the collections is a small model of Mark Twain, and this quote from him, which I think could be a great motto for any of us here on TravellersPoint:

‘Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely ... Broad, wholesome, charitable views ... cannot be acquired by vegetating in one’s little corner of Earth.’

Outside we found a rather incongruous addition to the collection in the shape of the Theodora, a 35 foot wooden boat that a friend once sailed around the world before retiring to the Caribbean and donating his boat to Tinkertown.

Golden

Our first stop on the Turquoise Trail proper was in the ghost town of Golden. This was the site of the very first gold rush west of the Mississippi back in 1825, even before the more famous California and Colorado gold rushes. So rich did the seam of gold appear that the town, originally named El Real de San Francisco, changed its name, and it soon grew to support several saloons, businesses, a school, and even a stock exchange. But by 1884 the gold was already beginning to run out and with no gold to keep them here people began to leave. The town survived for a while, acting as a small hub for local ranchers (the Golden General Merchandise Store opened in 1918 and is still operating today). But decline seemed to be inevitable, and by 1928 its population was so small that Golden was officially declared a ghost town.

For years afterwards its many abandoned buildings remained, falling into ruins among the very few still occupied, and that’s pretty much how we found it. There was a scattering of houses, and several piles of old stone that on close inspection revealed themselves to be crumbling walls. Most were too far gone even to be very photogenic, unlike some other ghost towns.

But one building was definitely worth stopping for a photo or two, the pretty little Catholic Church of San Francisco, dating back to 1830. Unfortunately however, today the gate to the churchyard was firmly locked so we could only take pictures from some distance. Later the same day we were to meet the local priest in Los Cerrillos who explained that the church was undergoing restoration so was locked for safety reasons. But it still made an attractive image as you can see.

Madrid

Our next major stop was in this considerably livelier ‘ghost town’. My TP friend Rosalie told me recently that a ghost town doesn’t have to necessarily be deserted, at least according to some definitions, which allow there to be some people living there as long it has declined to a ‘ghost’ of its former self. And that is certainly true of Madrid.

Pronounced with the stress on the first syllable, MAD-rid, rather than as the city in Spain, Mad-RID, this was once a coal-mining town, founded in 1869. In its heyday the town supplied coal for the Santa Fe Railroad, local customers and even the US Government. It was one of the first ‘company towns’ in the US; in 1919, the Superintendent of Mines, Oscar Huber, introduced a number of modern conveniences and facilities for the miners, including paved streets, a hospital, a company store, schools, and unlimited free electricity from the company power plant. During Prohibition, the company even furnished a place where people could distil illegal liquor!

But when coal use declined the town fell silent and became truly a ghost town. In the early 1970's, artists and craftspeople began to discover it, converting the old company stores and houses into shops and galleries.

It was around lunch time by the time we arrived here, so we went to check out the first likely-looking place we spotted for a bite to eat, the Hollar. This had a good range of lighter meals on the menu, and seemed popular, so we decided to give it a try. There were a number of tables in the shady garden at the front, but several of these were occupied by a rather noisy group so we opted to sit inside. We both chose salads. Chris’s Chef’s salad was a generous plateful of leaves etc. with turkey, ham and cheese. My ‘warm goat cheese salad with roasted bell peppers’ was also a good size and I liked the addition of a few berries, although the cheese was rather bland and lacked the sharpness I usually look for in a goat’s cheese. A pleasant lunch-stop, nevertheless.

Once we’d eaten we set off to explore the town. It seemed that almost every building housed a gallery or craft shop, and many of them had pretty high-quality items – paintings, jewellery, native pottery, sculpture and much more. Many of the shops are run by the artist themselves and it was fun and interesting to chat to them about their work even though we weren’t necessarily interested in buying – while they would obviously like to make a sale, they seemed to enjoy the conversations too.

Although Madrid was primarily a coal mining town, this is after all the Turquoise Trail here and we saw lots of jewellery made from the local Los Cerrilos turquoise which is a distinctive greenish colour. The big pieces were expensive, but I bought a pretty bracelet for my sister for $20 in a shop near the mining museum.

Madrid’s artiness extends outside the buildings too. Whether it is a row of colourful mail-boxes, a brightly painted wall, a collection of old signs in a coffee shop or simply a gallery’s porch adorned with samples of the owner’s work, we were never far from an eye-catching image.

Ah yes, those old signs! I am always on the search for a good cup of coffee, and especially when in the US, where so many establishments serve what I describe as ‘brown water’ (when I’m being polite!) So when we spotted a promising-looking coffee shop, the Java Junction, in the midst of Madrid’s galleries I was keen to give it a try – and was not disappointed.

As soon as we entered, we were struck by the eclectic décor, and impressed by the range of espresso-based treats on offer. As I was craving a caffeine fix, I went for the simple iced coffee, which was strong and black, just as I like it. Furthermore, the Java Junction makes its own coffee ice cubes, so as they melt into your drink they don’t dilute the coffee flavour as normal water cubes do. Chris chose a mocha, and we took our drinks out into the garden area to one side of the building. There was plenty of seating and the space was perfect for relaxing, with a view of all the passers-by on the road outside but sufficiently set back from it. We also enjoyed examining, and photographing, the fence which was decorated with all manner of bits and pieces – old signs, kitchen implements, tools, watering cans, artificial flowers and loads more.

Los Cerrillos

Just north of Madrid we stopped again in Los Cerrillos, a short distance off Highway 14. This is the place that gave the Turquoise Trail its name, but in the past its mines have yielded treasures of many kinds. Los Cerrillos means Little Hills, and in the hills surrounding this once prosperous town were found not just turquoise, in a distinctive green-tinged variety, but also gold, silver, lead and zinc. At the peak of all this activity, in the mid 1880s, there were roughly 3,000 prospectors working these hills and at the heart of them Los Cerrillos provided for all their needs, with 21 saloons, five brothels, four hotels, and several newspapers. The town became so well known that it was seriously considered as a possible capitol for New Mexico – hard to believe when you look around today.

Most of the mines closed before the end of the 19th century, although American Turquoise Company, a subsidiary of Tiffany’s, continued to mine here until the First World War. Today, just a few small private mines remain, but even so the majority of turquoise mined in New Mexico still comes from these beautiful hills.

If Madrid with all its bustle had seemed something of a half-hearted attempt at a ghost-town, Los Cerrillos appeared to us to be much closer to the real deal. Sure, people live here, but the sleepy dirt streets and decidedly run-down bar gave it something of a forgotten look, although perhaps surprisingly this was more peaceful and friendly than sad. Maybe there was just enough life left here after all to make us feel welcomed? Or maybe the presence of an attractive 1920s church made the place seem more cared for than it at first appears?

Saint Joseph’s Church

This church is not as old as the other buildings that stand near it, and also appears much more loved and better cared-for. It was built between 1921-22, replacing an earlier 19th century structure that stood next door to this spot (where the parking lot now is). It is still very active, with Mass said every Sunday.

I wanted to go inside but when we tried the door, we found it locked, as was the case in other small towns we visited. So we resigned ourselves to just taking a few photos of the exterior and to exploring the recently added attractive shrine on the right-hand side of the church. But as we entered this the local priest approached from the far end of the path and greeted us. To our surprise he had a very Scottish accent (think Billy Connolly!) We got talking and he offered to show us the interior, where he was also happy for me to take a few photos while he told us his story.

Despite the strong accent we learned that he had lived in New Mexico for over twenty years, originally emigrating there as to teach in Albuquerque. Some years ago he had a calling to the priesthood, was trained and was ordained a few years back. His first parish had been in quite a challenging area of the city and his health had suffered through stress, so he had recently been transferred here to Los Cerrillos. When I commented on how much more relaxing it must be, in such a pretty backwater, he agreed, but added that the new strain on him was the travelling involved, as he is also responsible for the parishes of Golden, some miles to the south, and Gallisteo to the east.

We really enjoyed chatting to him, and he was also very helpful in suggesting an alternative route into Santa Fe. It was friendly encounters like this that helped to make our trip to New Mexico such a pleasure.

But before following his suggested route there was a bit more for us to see here. If you should get the feeling when in Los Cerrillos that you are in a movie set, well ... you are! This has been the location for some 13 movies, including Young Guns, Young Guns II, Shoot Out (with Gregory Peck) and John Wayne’s 1972 movie, The Cowboys. And one result of all this activity can be found at the bar just down the street from the church, Mary's Bar. This bar was until fairly recently simply called Cerrillos Bar, but its name was changed to Mary’s Bar for the shooting of the film Vampires in 1998 and never changed back – Los Cerrillos is that sort of place, somehow.

From the outside I assumed the building was no longer in use, it was that dilapidated. But as I stood there taking photos a couple arrived, walked up to the door and went in. So naturally I followed.

At first sight the interior looked almost as unused as the front had done, with a few almost empty shelves and a ‘just about to move out’ appearance. But then I realised that there was a counter on the right with a few people sat up at it and a lady serving drinks. I would have liked to have stayed for a cold one, but we had spent rather a long time chatting to the priest at the church and decided that we should perhaps head off for Santa Fe at this point. I read afterwards though that Mary, who has run the bar since the 1970s, usually has a tale or two to tell about serving drinks to the cast of the Young Guns films, so maybe we should have lingered.

Next door to the bar we spotted the intriguingly named What Not Shop. What a great name for a shop! I just had to look inside. And I soon discovered that it’s an appropriate name too – this place is full of what-nots. And thingamajigs. And thingamabobs. And no doubt a lot more besides, although finding it among the chaos could be a challenge!

What Not Shop

In a series of rambling rooms there are no doubt some gems too – I spotted some pretty native jewellery and pottery, for instance. There was also an odd assortment of old china and glassware, rusty old tools, indeterminate kitchen gadgets from long ago, a saddle, an old weaving loom, a pile of old National Geographic magazines, a few tatty books, old jars and cans of assorted sizes and descriptions, bison skulls and other hunting trophies – most of the covered in a thin layer of dust. The owner didn’t seem too keen on me taking photos but I confess I grabbed a few as you can see.

On one wall was an especially bizarre and slightly disturbing item – a glass case featuring the top half of a female dummy, surrounded by underwear and other items of clothing, and with a number of large rusty nails thrust through her body. When we asked the lady in the shop to tell us about it, she shook her head, simply saying that it was ‘a long story’, and again refusing permission for photos. We came to the conclusion that it must be some sort of left-over (maybe a prop) from the filming of John Carpenter’s Vampires movie. Chris did grab a shot, which I have included here, and if anyone can offer a better indication of its origins I’d be grateful.

Arriving in Santa Fe

When we were planning our road trip in New Mexico we knew that we wanted to spend several days in Santa Fe, and we knew that we wanted to stay near the centre, within walking distance of the Plaza. We also didn’t want to spend a fortune – a set of apparently incompatible wishes, until I came across the Chapelle Street Casitas. This is a cluster of self-catering properties, ranging from small and cosy to large family-sized options, all scattered over a few blocks in an area to the north west of the Plaza. Nowadays it seems that they are only available for long-term rental, so we were fortunate that back then they had just a three-night minimum which, as we wanted to spend four nights here, was just fine.

As there were just two of us we chose one of their smaller properties, 211 Chapelle C, described as ‘a small, rustic one bedroom’ which was a fair enough description. It was one of a row of four in, unsurprisingly, Chapelle Street itself, just around the corner from the B&B that formed the hub of the business (for an extra payment we could have had breakfast here but we preferred to go out and about each morning, with the flexibility to choose our own time and place).

We checked in at the B&B, where the owner was full of useful info about the town. She gave us a street map, and a sketch map showing the location of our unit and also a nearby parking spot that was ours to use for the duration of our stay – a valuable bonus in old town Santa Fe, where parking is notoriously difficult to find.

The row of Chapelle Street units was built over 100 years ago to house Army officers at the local fort. The description of Unit C went on: ‘small one bedroom, living room with futon sofa bed, bedroom with queen bed, full kitchen, full bath’ – and that about summed it up! We entered directly into the living room, which lead in turn to the bedroom, with bathroom off it, and beyond that the kitchen. The latter was fully equipped for self-catering but we didn’t use it as such, apart from employing the large fridge to keep some cans of beer cool!

Sitting room

On the whole we were very satisfied with our little home in Santa Fe. The location was great, the main rooms (bedroom and living room) were cheerfully painted with nice old dark wood floors, and we had everything we needed for our stay. The bedroom was maybe a little small and dark, but the website was honest about that and we were only in it at night so that wasn’t a problem. The bathroom was on the simple side and few toiletries were provided, but there were plenty of towels, the shower worked well and there was always hot water.

Blue Corn Café

On our first evening in Santa Fe we went to the Blue Corn Café as it got a good write-up in our Moon Handbook and had also been recommended by the owner of the Casitas when we checked in that afternoon. The Moon book did comment on its slightly chain-like appearance (in fact there is just one other branch, on the south side of town) but in my view that was a little unfair. OK, it is above a small shopping mall, but we were to discover that this is true of quite a few restaurants in the town, and although the space was large it had been well laid-out, with wooden tables and chairs comfortably spaced and some very good local photos displayed on the walls. We enjoyed our meal here, and the friendly service, and found it good value for money in what can be a pricey town.

Chris had the Chimichanga with chicken and pronounced it the best meal of the trip so far! I was nearly as pleased with my red chilli pork Tamales, and the accompanying beans and Spanish rice, in generous portions, made it a substantial meal – especially as we hadn’t been able to resist starting with a shared portion of the trade-mark blue and white corn chips with guacamole! I had the house margarita and Chris a pint of one of their own micro-brews, the Atomic Blonde Lager. We were very satisfied with our first meal in the town that was to be our base for the next few days.

El Paseo Bar & Grill

Looking for a night-cap we came across this unassuming little bar just south of the Plaza, which advertised live music some nights (now closed down, according to Yelp, before anyone gets the idea to check it out). It was Tuesday, and therefore ‘open mic’ night. We thought this might be interesting; however in the time we were there (well over an hour) only one band played, that of the manager, and the light jazz style was not really to our taste. A few other people had turned up, including a guy with a guitar, but they seemed reluctant to take the stage! In the end we gave up waiting for music, but not before I’d enjoyed a decent margarita and Chris a couple of bottles of beer.

Although we had enjoyed yesterday’s breakfast at Café Pasqual’s, it was quite pricey, so we looked elsewhere today and found the Burro Alley Café, conveniently located a couple of blocks from our casita. Today it appears to have been turned into a burger restaurant, but back in 2011 it was a bakery and café, perfect for breakfast time. It had a really pretty courtyard opening onto the lane that gives it its name, with some small trees which would have given welcome shade in the heat of the day. This morning though we were happy to sit in the sun. The courtyard walls were adorned with brightly painted wooden shutters which were very photogenic and kept our cameras busy while we waited for our order.

The bakery produces excellent pastries served fresh for breakfast. Chris had a chocolate one while mine was a huge almond one, both served still slightly warm from the oven. With two glasses of orange juice, a cappuccino for Chris and a double espresso for me (hooray, real caffeine!) we paid roughly half the cost of previous day’s breakfast.

Bandelier National Monument

One reason for our planning to spend several days in Santa Fe was to do a day trip to Bandelier National Monument. I had read a lot about it on Virtual Tourist and elsewhere, and knew it was just the sort of place we would enjoy visiting. Then a few months before our visit a wildfire swept through the area, devastating over 146,000 acres, including about 60% of Bandelier’s area. Almost all of the monument was closed to visitors. But fortunately for us one small part remained open, and it sounded like one of the most interesting – Tsankawi. So that was our planned destination for today.

Getting to Tsankawi is impossible without a private vehicle. It lies twelve miles from the main section of Bandelier National Monument and isn’t the easiest place to find. The park’s website gives the following directions:
‘Coming from Santa Fe you'll turn from State Highway 502 to State Highway 4. Less than 1/4 of a mile past this turn Tsankawi will be located on the left hand side of the road. There are no signs for Tsankawi on Highway 4. If you get to the stoplight, you've gone too far. A large gravel parking area adjacent to the highway and a sign on the fence will indicate you've found the place.’

We followed these directions and had no problem finding the place, although even so we overshot the parking area and had to turn around.

There was an honour pay post in the little hut at the start of the trail, with a permit to be displayed in your car. The only two other cars parked there when we arrived didn’t appear to have bothered, perhaps feeling it was unnecessary with most of the monument closed, but we paid – they were going to need the funds to repair the fire’s damage, after all. We should also have been able to buy a 50c leaflet describing the trail at the honour pay post, with about 20 numbered points along it, but they had all gone, apart from a slightly tatty one which could be borrowed for free and returned to the leaflet holder after the walk. We took this, and were very pleased to have done so, as it was very informative and also helped to keep us on the right path at one point where it seemed to fork.

Armed with this leaflet we set out. The trail is advertised as being 1.5 miles in length, although it seemed a little longer than this to us. It is also advertised as easy, but that is a relative term, as while it isn’t strenuous I did find a few parts tricky going, mainly because you are, quite literally, walking in the footsteps of the ancient inhabitants of this land, in the deep grooves worn in the rocks over the centuries. In places that path is worn very deep (as much as 30 or more centimetres) and is only one foot wide, by which I mean the width of your foot, not the measurement! You have to put one foot directly in front of the other, and lift each one high so as to clear the side ‘wall’ of the path.

But if this trail demands any sort of effort, it is a worthwhile one, as the views and the sense of history amply repay you for taking the trouble to walk where the ancients once walked. And remember that they would have done so in sandals, or even with bare feet, and I am certain would have been far more sure-footed than any of us, even the best of walkers, on this rocky trail.

The first part of the trail led up the side of the mesa, with a ladder at one point. The leaflet pointed out the location of the first of several petroglyphs (rock carvings, as opposed to rock paintings which are known as pictographs).

We then followed the well-worn path of the ancient inhabitants of this land up to the mesa top. From here we had an almost 360 degree view of the surrounding landscape, including several mountain ranges. To the west lie the Jemez Mountains, with Los Alamos at their foot. To the east are the Sangre de Cristo Mountains (named for the Blood of Christ) and the Rio Grande Valley. About 70 miles south are the Sandia Mountains, which dominate the skyline above Albuquerque.

Here the ancient Pueblo Indians (sometimes known as the Anasazi) built their village or pueblo: Tsankawi. They lived on the mesa top from some time in the 15th century until towards the end of the 16th. It is thought that the village may have been abandoned due to a severe drought in the region. The pueblo at San Ildefonso, eight miles away, have the tradition that their ancestors lived at Tsankawi, while other pueblos also claim ancestral links.

The village was built out of tuff stone plastered inside and out with mud. It was roughly rectangular in shape with about 350 rooms and an enclosed central courtyard or plaza. Today almost nothing visible remains, and there has been no archaeological excavation. Consultation with San Ildefonso Pueblo has revealed that the people prefer that the homes and belongings of their ancestors remain untouched. Using new technology, a variety of information can be gathered from an archaeological site without ever uncovering it. That means however that to the uninitiated there seems to be little here, although the imaginative can discern the shape of the plaza as a clearing in the scrubby bushes that grow here. To imagine it properly though, it helps to have visited one of the still-inhabited pueblos in the area, so we were glad we had been to Acoma a couple of days previously. The village would have been a hive of activity: women cooking or grinding corn, or maybe making pottery, men carving tools from flint or skinning animals, children playing, dogs darting underfoot and so on.

The people who lived in these houses would have descended each day to the valley floor below to farm their crops, following the same well-worn trails that brought us up here. On the way they would have passed the cavates where some of their fellow villagers lived, and that is where the trail now took us.

We had seen the cavates dotted along the face of the mesa quite early in our walk, but the trail at first had led us away from these to climb up to the village above. It is only when we descended from there that we got a close look at the other places the ancients called home.

The inhabitants dug these caves out of the soft rock, extending the walls where needed with stones and mortar, and adding timber roofs. These have of course long since disappeared, and the caves that remain look almost natural rather than man-made. But if you peer inside (there are no restrictions on access other than your own capacity to reach them, and as several are right by the trail it is easy to enter them) you will see the ceilings and walls of some blackened by the smoke of long-extinguished fires, evidence of the human impact on this apparently natural environment.

It’s important to take care when exploring the caves not to touch any walls, as even light contact can cause damage. And of course you must never remove anything from a site as historic as this, nor from any national park or monument.

A few of the caves apparently have traces of paintings or petroglyphs inside, but we didn’t find any here, although we did spot some at several points along the trail.

Many have been damaged by exposure to the elements over the centuries – and no doubt by exposure to people too.

The trail leaflet explained more about them:
‘Today through consultation with San Ildefonso Pueblo descendants, we know that these marks upon the rocks have deeper meanings than mere art. They may someday even be classified as a written language. The meanings of some petroglyphs are known to many present-day Pueblo people. The exact significance of others may have been lost through time.’

But not every petroglyph here was carved by the ancestral Pueblo people who once inhabited Tsankawi – some are later additions created by Spanish settlers. Their shepherds kept their herds in small pens built under the rock outcroppings here and are thought to have carved some of the shapes and symbols, such as arrows, during Colonial times (between the late 1800s to early 1900s). But just because the Spanish shepherds did so, there is absolutely no excuse for any of us to try to add to these carvings. As always on National Park land (or indeed anywhere else of historic or natural significance) the rule must be, ‘look but don’t touch’!

Towards the end of our walk, as we were on the final stretch back towards the parking lot (but with still maybe half a mile or so to go), clouds started to gather to the east of us, behind our backs, and they were clearly moving faster than we were – especially as we kept stopping to take photos. We remembered then the warnings we’d read about the dangers of being caught out in this exposed rocky landscape during a storm, so we quickened our pace to make sure we were safely back at the car before the clouds came directly overhead. In the event, no storm ensued, but we thought it better to be safe than sorry in this unforgiving environment.

We ate a picnic lunch while planning where to go next. I realised that we were quite near Española and as I’d read about an interesting sight there, we drove over to check it out.

Chimayó Trading Post, Española

Española is an unprepossessing town a few miles north of Santa Fe, but is home to a little gem. To step inside the Chimayó Trading Post is to feel yourself transported back around a hundred years, when the pace of life was slower and nothing was ever thrown away, because it might just come in handy one day. And it seemed to me that many of those un-thrown away items have found their way here, to Española. The location of the Trading Post, marooned on a small triangle of land surrounded by busy roads, is somehow apt, because the place itself feels like a perfect slice of history marooned in the 21st century.

And if you’re wondering why a trading post in Española should be named for a neighbouring town, well apparently the building was originally built in nearby Chimayó in 1926, but was moved to this location in the 1930s. Behind the store is the Trujillo House, dating from around the same time. Both it and the store have been in the Trujillo family ever since, as we were to find out when we met Leo Trujillo inside.

We parked our car next to the trading post – the only car in what was quite a large lot. After taking a few photos of the appealing exterior, we pushed open the door and entered. Immediately a wavering voice to our right announced, ‘This place is going to be in a book you know. But you’ve come too early; it won’t be out for a month.’

This was our introduction to Leo, the owner of the trading post. The trading post has, as I said, been in this location since the 1930s, and it seemed to us that Leo must have moved here then too, and possibly been sitting inside behind the counter where we met him ever since, as his age and that of many of the objects for sale here seemed about the same, and he seemed as much of a fixture as they did too. From old brass beds to china dogs, kachina dolls to copper kettles, wooden santos to porcelain tea-cups, National Geographic magazines from decades past to antique furniture – even a fairground horse! This place is a treasure trove / junk shop / total dump, depending on your perspective, and all three perspectives are valid in fact – it just depends what your eyes light on next. You could browse here for hours, if so inclined, or give it all a cursory glance and dismiss it as being too chaotic to face the search.

As we rootled around, and took our photos (having asked and been given permission), Leo continued to chat, even when we were more or less out of earshot. Mainly he talked about the objects, telling us to be sure to look in this corner or that. But he also mentioned that someone he referred to as ‘the girl’ had gone to buy his lunch, and that when she returned she would show us the house if we would like. We had no idea what that might involve but it sounded interesting, so we agreed.

Meanwhile we picked out a few (old) postcards, and as a memento of our visit I also chose one of the samplers of Native American weavings (they can be seen on the bed in my photo above, and ours now hangs in our kitchen). Leo carefully hand-wrote our receipt in lovely old copperplate, and threw in an extra postcard as a gift.

Just then ‘the girl’ returned with his lunch and agreed that she could indeed show us the house. So she led us to the back of the shop and through a half-open door into the house behind. This was Leo’s home, and had been so for many years. Our ‘tour guide’ explained as we went from room to room that Leo had worked as cabin crew for Pan Am, meeting his wife there, and settling down here in retirement. But before retiring their jobs had taken them all over the world, and wherever they went, they collected the things that most appealed to them, with the result that the house is as much a treasure trove of antiques as the trading post itself.

So it was perhaps not surprising to see some things that would look more at home in an English country house or Chinese pagoda than in the western US. The kitchen too was fascinating, and more or less unchanged since the 1930s I suspect. We also enjoyed meeting Leo’s cat, named by his owner as Obama (because he’s ‘black and white, like the President’).

Sadly I have learned from an interesting article I found online while updating my Virtual Tourist notes for this blog that Leo died in 2017 – his nephew Patrick now runs the store (see Chimayó Trading Post is Española landmark). So it seems that the house may well be very different these days (Patrick is planning to open it as an art centre where visitors can meet and buy directly from the artists) even though, thankfully, the store seems little changed.

Eventually we said our goodbyes to both ‘girl’ and Leo and left. Back outside we walked round to the side of the building to see the house’s exterior, and found that to be almost as fascinating a hotch-potch of items as the rooms inside – our eyes being particularly caught by an old street sign from Shoulder of Mutton Alley, a tiny side street in London’s docklands! We also learnt, from a sign on an outside wall, that this house, known as the Trujillo House, was placed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1999.

If you are interested there are lots more pictures of the house (including some interiors) and store on the Historical Marker Database website http://www.hmdb.org/marker.asp?marker=34205], as well as one of Leo taken in 2010, not long before we met him.

Abiquiu

From Española we then drove further north up Highway 84, keen to see something of the landscape that had inspired Georgia O’Keefe after our visit to the museum yesterday. Unfortunately the weather chose that moment to turn rather overcast (maybe the clouds we had spotted from Tsankawi had finally driven away the blue sky), but nevertheless the landscape was very impressive and well worth the drive.

Once beyond Española the drive was pleasant enough, but it was after we passed the small town of Chili that it started to get more dramatic. At first the drama came from the contrast between the lush green valley of the Rio Chama and the more barren hills on either side. Then as we neared Abiquiu the rocky outcrops got more eye-catching and the colours richer, with reds and whites predominating.

The village of Abiquiu, home to O’Keeffe for more than 40 years, tends to keep itself to itself, and visitors are not really encouraged, much as is the case with many of the pueblos. You can tour the O’Keeffe house, but only with a prior reservation. We hadn’t planned that far ahead, so decided to give the village a miss and instead headed for Abiquiu Lake a few miles further up the road. This is managed by the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, and the approach road is a little less scenic than you might hope, as you pass a small power station beside the road, but once beyond this you can park up by the Visitor Centre and stroll up the slope behind it to the point known as the Overlook.

Here we had a magnificent view of the lake, and beyond it the distinctive flat-topped of Cerro Pedernal, the mountain that found its way into so many of O’Keeffe’s works. It was rather windy on this somewhat exposed ridge overlooking the water, but in better weather it would be a marvellous place for a picnic. The path leads past labelled examples of local shrubs and flowers, and I was able to identify a couple that I had been admiring during our travels round the state.

Because of the wind and rather dull skies we didn't linger long here, and instead headed back to Santa Fe to relax in our casita for a short while before dinner.

Back to the Shed

We had reserved a table for dinner at the Shed, having been impressed when we ate lunch there on our first day in the city. Beforehand though we went to a bar we had spotted on the previous day, the Marble Brewery, which had a terrace overlooking the Plaza (I say ‘had’, because like several of the bars and restaurants we enjoyed on this trip it has sadly since closed down). There were a number of ‘house beers’ to choose from, all available in three sizes (pint, 10 oz or 5 oz), making it easy to try several different beers in one visit, and the waiting staff were also happy to bring a small taster if you wanted to try one before committing. Chris favoured the India Pale Ale while I rather liked the Marble Red which had loads of flavour.

Then it was on to the Shed for our 8.30 reservation. We actually arrived a little early, but got seated by 8.20 or so. Our table was inside, in one of the smaller rooms off the main one, which was very cosy with only a few tables and less noisy than the larger space where we’d had lunch the previous day.

Having rather bigger appetites than we had come with yesterday lunch-time, we were keen to try the New Mexican dishes for which they have such a good name. So we shared some chips and salsa to start with, which Chris followed with the ‘layered enchiladas’ – two blue corn tortillas layered with cheddar cheese, onion, covered with red chilli and baked – a sort of New Mexican lasagne! I had the taco plate, made with two soft blue corn tortillas filled with cheddar cheese, onion, tomato, lettuce and a choice of meats – I opted for chicken (I could also have had ground beef) and green chilli (I could naturally also have had red). These were served with pinto beans and rice.

Salsa, chips and a 'Shed Red'

Both meals were excellent, but mine especially so – one of the best I had on the whole trip! To drink I had a ‘Shed Red’, a margarita with pomegranate juice, which was very good, without reaching the dizzy heights of my green chilli version of the previous evening. Chris had a beer, we shared a cheesecake for dessert, and found the bill to be really reasonable. I can see why this restaurant is a favourite with Santa Fe locals – it would be a regular haunt for us too if we lived here!