Cimarron Canyon State Park, New Mexico
We arrived in Santa Fe yesterday, Monday August 4, in the middle of a thunderstorm – lightening and thunder and pouring rain without a place to stay. Our reservations at Las Palomas were for Tuesday night. We thought we’d stay overnight in Taos or Bandelier National Monument but after a long and excruciating search for the Taos pueblo, all we wanted to do was get out of the car and relax. So we drove into Santa Fe tired and grumpy with nowhere to light in the drenching rain.
We left Pueblo, CO at 8:20 Mountain time on I-25 headed for Taos. We arrived in NM --our seventh state in three days -- at 10:20 a.m. Mountain time. Now we are two hours behind Michigan. We encountered several antelope gamboling across the plain as we headed across the plain below the Sangre de Cristos mountains.
We left Pueblo, CO at 8:20 Mountain time on I-25 headed for Taos. We arrived in NM --our seventh state in three days -- at 10:20 a.m. Mountain time. Now we are two hours behind Michigan. We encountered several antelope gamboling across the plain as we headed across the plain below the Sangre de Cristos mountains.
In Raton, NM – elevation 6668 feet -- we got maps and books and info on Taos and split a Sonic burger before heading out on state route 64 along the Santa Fe National Historic Trail (mountain branch) . . .
. . . where we encountered a burbling Cimarron River and the cliffs of the Palisades Sill – elevation 8000 feet. The temperature was in the high eighties and there was a brisk breeze blowing – very pleasant.
I don’t know now what I expected at Taos – well, the truth is, I didn’t know what to expect. I was excited to see the old, old buildings and curious about the cultural divide. I sure didn’t expect what we got – Mackinaw without the fudge – an automobile gridlocked town filled with one touristy shop after another. We blindly drove toward what we discovered later was the pueblo, but turned back too soon. Then we drove up and down the main street looking for the tourist info center that signs led us to expect, but never sighted. We hared off in one direction only to return to the fray in Taos. None of our maps seemed to have the same roads on them. We didn’t know where to go or what to do when we finally found the tourist center and tried to get a room for the night in Santa Fe with no luck.
Alisa got a taco under her belt at Taco Bell where prairie dogs were scavaging scraps in the parking lot. She had deciphered the map enough to have an idea where to find the Taos pueblo and off we went only to turn around and leave immediately upon arrival. I can’t explain.
We had to go back through Taos to get to Santa Fe. It was mid-afternoon, but it felt like evening and we were tired and frustrated. Alisa thought we should get a room in Taos, but I had enough of Taos and really wanted to find a quite place in the mountains to lay my head, but Alisa said she wasn’t sleeping in the car at Bandolier (or a tent, which we left in my car in Ann Arbor).
So I took the wheel, thinking we’d go to Las Palomas in Santa Fe and hope for the best, whatever that might turn out to be. We found the hotel with minimum of fuss. I straggled into the office sopping wet to be greeted by an early welcome, a plate of warm of peanut butter and chocolate chip cookies, and a huge umbrella to use to protect ourselves walking through the courtyard to our very own darling casita . . .
. . . with its tiny private courtyard, sitting room with adobe fireplace, kitchen, bath and 38-inch HDTV cleverly mounted on the adobe wall in the bedroom.
I took off my wet clothes and used the cozy robe in the ancient carved-wooden cupboard since I hadn’t packed one. I started a fire in the raised hearth and Alisa put some water on for tea. After a hot bath, I turned in. Santa Fe would have to wait until tomorrow.
. . . where we encountered a burbling Cimarron River and the cliffs of the Palisades Sill – elevation 8000 feet. The temperature was in the high eighties and there was a brisk breeze blowing – very pleasant.
I don’t know now what I expected at Taos – well, the truth is, I didn’t know what to expect. I was excited to see the old, old buildings and curious about the cultural divide. I sure didn’t expect what we got – Mackinaw without the fudge – an automobile gridlocked town filled with one touristy shop after another. We blindly drove toward what we discovered later was the pueblo, but turned back too soon. Then we drove up and down the main street looking for the tourist info center that signs led us to expect, but never sighted. We hared off in one direction only to return to the fray in Taos. None of our maps seemed to have the same roads on them. We didn’t know where to go or what to do when we finally found the tourist center and tried to get a room for the night in Santa Fe with no luck.
Alisa got a taco under her belt at Taco Bell where prairie dogs were scavaging scraps in the parking lot. She had deciphered the map enough to have an idea where to find the Taos pueblo and off we went only to turn around and leave immediately upon arrival. I can’t explain.
We had to go back through Taos to get to Santa Fe. It was mid-afternoon, but it felt like evening and we were tired and frustrated. Alisa thought we should get a room in Taos, but I had enough of Taos and really wanted to find a quite place in the mountains to lay my head, but Alisa said she wasn’t sleeping in the car at Bandolier (or a tent, which we left in my car in Ann Arbor).
So I took the wheel, thinking we’d go to Las Palomas in Santa Fe and hope for the best, whatever that might turn out to be. We found the hotel with minimum of fuss. I straggled into the office sopping wet to be greeted by an early welcome, a plate of warm of peanut butter and chocolate chip cookies, and a huge umbrella to use to protect ourselves walking through the courtyard to our very own darling casita . . .
. . . with its tiny private courtyard, sitting room with adobe fireplace, kitchen, bath and 38-inch HDTV cleverly mounted on the adobe wall in the bedroom.
I took off my wet clothes and used the cozy robe in the ancient carved-wooden cupboard since I hadn’t packed one. I started a fire in the raised hearth and Alisa put some water on for tea. After a hot bath, I turned in. Santa Fe would have to wait until tomorrow.
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