Vacationing in the Southwest, Ruidoso, New Mexico to Alpine, Texas

Another entry written while traveling.

There’s a couple of different ways we could get from Ruidoso to Carlsbad, NM, and we opt to take the one that leads south through the mountains of the Mescalero Apache Indian Reservation to Cloudcroft (Route 70), and then east and south to Carlsbad (Route 82 to Route 285). A few minutes after we’ve entered the reservation, we see a wild elk.

A couple minutes after that, we come upon a herd of beautiful horses, one of which was on our side of the fence. Isn’t he gorgeous?

Mostly we see just the occasional house, dirt road, and herd of cows. After spending an hour or so winding through the low Sacramento mountain range, we come to the town of Cloudcroft (elevation 8,600 feet, population 764), where there’s lots of cross-country skiing, downhill skiing and snowboarding. Cloudcroft is small and remote, and we’d like to stay over, but today we’re trying to cover some ground.

Before we know it, we’ve left the snowy conifer forests and are in the warm desert around Carlsbad, where we’ve planned to spend a few hours in the vast underground caverns.

It's dark in the caverns and there's no way my camera could take in the scale of the amazing formations, so if you're not familiar with this area, check out the pictures on the park service’s site, like this one, and others here. Let me put it this way: when we first walked in, I was amazed by the size of the caverns, and then we turned a corner and saw there was far more. It went on like that for a good 20 minutes. Huge!

While we’re walking around the enormous caverns, we come across a park ranger who is doing one of those boring, painstakingly tasks that park rangers always get stuck with. She is cleaning accumulated dust/lint from one of the caverns walls. A vacuum would be too noisy and destructive to the delicate surface, so she wiggles a paint brush in the lint, it sticks to the brush fibers, and she flicks it into a little plastic baggie.


Our wireless internet access is getting spotty again, so I'm going to sign off before uploading the photos I took of flowering cacti and the flats of west Texas. They're more interesting than the lint lady pic, I swear. :)

Edited to add Carlsbad links above and the rest of the photos below.

What's above the caverns:

Flash Slideshow

From there we drive through the Guadalupe mountains in west Texas, on our way to visit with D's brother in Alpine:

Flash Slideshow

Vacationing in the Southwest, Santa Fe to Ruidoso

This is another blog entry written while we lacked consistent internet access.

Another gorgeous day in Santa Fe. We slept in (woohooo, vacation!) and thankfully, D looks almost normal today. Yesterday, when he was hiccupping his way up and down the aisles of the unfamiliar health food store, he turned bright pink and looked so miserable. I hope we’ve seen the last of that.

We get the car loaded up (just call me Muscles) and then set out for a short drive around Santa Fe to get our bearings before we leave. We take the road that rings the oldest part of town, Paseo del Peralta, randomly turn off every now and then to explore the residential neighborhoods, cruise along Canyon Road, where there must be 100? art galleries, and then wend up into the hills, where the homes are further apart. We like all the pretty stucco houses and that we’ve avoided the tourist season, but we don't like the unplowed snow. Some streets are really clogged, and since I don't know my way around, I wind up taking a few bad ones that lead to even worse ones. D’s stomach muscles still hurt from his hernia surgery and I feel bad about jostling him.

On the way back to town we happen upon the very popular Santa Fe Baking Company. If you’re going to Santa Fe, put this place on your list. It’s a bakery-café, and even though it’s in a strip mall, it still manages to be cozy and a little off beat. The walls are brightly painted and filled with really good consigned art work, and there’s a guy playing guitar (it‘s the weekend). Next to a display case which is crammed full and then piled high with cookies, pastries and bread, a line of people wait to place their breakfast orders. We pick out some cookies to stash in the car and sit down to a feast of enormous blue corn pancakes, fresh fruit, poached eggs, pulpy OJ, and rich, dark coffee. This place is a 10.

OK, time’s up! We need to get on the road. No firm schedule, but we’re in northern New Mexico and we want to be down in west Texas by tomorrow night, so we need to drive 4-to-6 hours today. As we head south toward Albuquerque, it occurs to me that some of Santa Fe’s best, like it’s silver jewelry and artwork, have barely been a blip on our radar. Even on vacation, the things we’ve sought out here, like the health food store, bakery café, yoga studio, and massage therapist, are the things we gravitate to back home.

South of Albuquerque, we cross the infamous Rio Grande:

We get off Interstate 25 and take the smaller roads toward the southeast corner of the state. Gradually the desert and scrub brush give way to grasses.


We stop to admire what's left of an old mission church, the Abo Ruins of the Salinas Pueblo Mission.






If this isn’t enough of the Abo Ruins for you, there’s a big Abo Ruins pool on Flickr.

Back on the road, east of Abo:


Late in the afternoon we reach Ruidoso, a little town that’s boomed into a ski and snowboard haven with two Indian casinos. We hate it. Ok, maybe not all of it.

We do enjoy a delicious dinner at the Casa Blanca Restaurant, and D gets to have the southwest green chilis that he’s been hankering for.

But our lodging is horrid. We’ve taken a chance by staying at a non-chain, because, no offense to the hard-working people at the Comfort Inn across the street, but we don't want our only hotel option in every town in America to be a Comfort Inn. Good plan, bad execution.

At 6 am we quit trying to sleep in the cold, dirty, noisy, uncomfortable room and just get in the car. I don’t do my morning workout, shower, comb my hair, or even brush my teeth. I just get dressed, load the car, and turn the key.

It’s a shame that we don’t want to stay in Ruidoso long enough to check out what appears to be the perfect spot for some alpaca lace weight yarn, the Royal Fiber Spinnery. I also noticed a real cute quilt shop that might have been fun.

The silver lining to a crack-of-dawn departure is that we’ll have plenty of time to get to west Texas by tonight.

Vacationing in the Southwest, Chicago to Santa Fe

Here’s the first of a few blog entries written while we had spotty internet access. Today's entry is long on text, the rest are mostly pictures.

Our southwest trip is underway and promises to be a very slow-paced trip. D had laparoscopic inguinal hernia surgery shortly before we left Chicago, and for the next two weeks he’s supposed to take it easy and not lift anything heavier than a gallon of milk. This means I’m in charge of all the luggage and the driving, while he navigates our route. I like our role reversal, but he doesn’t, so it’s good for him.

Instead of taking the el to the airport, we hire a driver to get us there and then borrow a wheelchair from the airline. Even if we allowed lots of extra time to get up to the el platform and through the crowds, it would be impossible for me alone to carry both our suitcases, our coats, the laptop, cell phones, camera and their chargers, all the things we want on the plane, like a newspaper, magazines, bottled water, and the maps and CDs we brought for the driving portion of our trip.

We get to the airport super early and then “pre-board” the plane with the seniors and families with young children. When D first came home from the hospital, I had to help him sit up in bed or get out of a chair. Now he can get around by himself, as long as he moves slowly. He’s supposed to walk every day, but we’re not sure how much he’ll be able to do.

From Chicago we fly into Albuquerque (approx. 3 hours), then drive north to Santa Fe (approx. 90 minutes), where our first stop is the weekly Farmers’ Market. During the winter months, it’s held on Saturdays in a large, open, barn-type building in the railroad district. There is a lot of snow on the ground which wasn't plowed or salted since it fell 6 days ago, and a fresh layer of snow fell on Friday night, so we are glad our rented vehicle has 4-wheel drive.

At the market we find a pair of musicians playing and about 15 vendors, all tucked into one corner of the big space. There are fresh baked goods and hot coffee, bright sprouts, beautiful mushrooms, colorful dried herbs, beans, chilies, and other spices. There are also vendors taking orders for beef, lamb or chicken, and the lamb people are selling pelts thick with unwashed wool. The prices seem comparable to what we’d pay at a Chicago farmers’ market, but the vendors here seem to have actually grown what they offer.

We come away with dried green chilies which a friend requested, some blue corn flour, bolita beans (grown in southern Colorado and northern New Mexico), sweet herb teas, herb capsules for colds and chest congestion, and a dried sage smudge stick which I tuck into a sunny spot on the car's dashboard. I look forward to trying out the bolita beans, especially during these cold winter months and the mastranzo tea, which even dried smells strongly of sweet mint and apples.

After the market, we meander to the hilly downtown shopping district. It’s great being here in the off season when there’s hardly any one around, but we have difficulty walking around because of the unshoveled, melting snow. The sky is deep, dark blue, the sun is blazing, and the melted snow flowing down the hills is full of rusty orange silt. From what we see of the central square area, there are lots of art galleries, upscale clothing shops, jewelry stores, and coffee spots. We search out Oodles, a new bead and yarn boutique (no website), and are charmed by the owner and her dog, Harry (Hairy?). Harry is a rare breed that even we dog people haven’t heard of, and the long name doesn’t stick in my head.

Our schedule doesn’t permit visits to Santa Fe’s oldest yarn store, the Needle’s Eye, which is within walking distance of the central square or to the Santa Fe School of Weaving, which is a fairly new endeavor.

Next up, an obligatory swing through Santa Fe’s Georgia O’Keefe Museum. Highlights for me are the 10 minute biographic film, a portrait of Mr. Stieglitz by Henri Cartier-Bresson, and a painting that O’K worked on while still living in NYC, settling her husband’s estate, about a year before she moved permanently to New Mexico. O’K lived northeast of Santa Fe, near Abiqui, but we won’t be driving up that way on this visit. We also won’t be trekking up to Taos, which interests me the most, because our time is short and D is anxious to get to Texas.

By the time we make it through the O’K gallery, D is hiccupping, again, and just wants to rest at the hotel. This is the 3rd or 4th time he’s had hiccups since his surgery, and they hang around for hours, so he's a little tired and frustrated. We pass up the Whole Foods and Trader Joe’s, which we have at home, and find their competitor, the Vitamin Cottage health food store, for some fresh fruits, juices, and salty snacks for the room and the car. I keep noticing that the locals move a little slower and dress a little less body conscious than we’re used to.


Now it’s late afternoon and I leave D reclining in the room when I drive up to the Japanese-style Ten Thousand Waves spa. I love this place and could easily come here regularly. The hot pools, saunas, treatment buildings, and overnight lodging are tucked amongst conifers on a terraced hill, and connected by gravel walkways and low Japanese lanterns. The contrast between the cold snow and the steamy rooms is wonderful. I had a Thai massage with Dharma (Bob), who said he worked as a landscaper until his body told him it was time to stop. Later, I almost doze off in the dry sauna holding hot river rocks, but my thoughts wander back to the real world and I picture poor D hiccupping in the hotel room. I find us all sorts of goodies in the gift shop -- souvenir t-shirts, hinoki soap, arnica muscle salve, and even vegetarian sushi and noodles for our dinner. I wish this place was closer to home.

When I get back to D, he’s on the internet researching hiccup cures. According to one web site, he was supposed to go to the emergency room 2 hours ago. He takes his temperature (it’s normal) and eats a little rice pudding. Once he’s prone and relaxed, the hiccups finally fade away. It’s only about 8:00 p.m., but it’s been a big day for both of us, so out go the lights.

Tomorrow we’ll be driving south.