April 19, 2009
“There are some weird vibes outside of Santa Fe,” said the hospital emergency nurse. Daughter D and I looked at each other, no fooling, we thought, having spent the worst night of our trip in a little town North of Santa Fe.
Yet, we loved Santa Fe. We had our wonderful meal there; the shops were fun, the adobe houses inspiring, and the sunshine glorious. We wandered through an Indian (from India) salvage yard where they had more columns, doors, decorative items than the castles they must have dismantled. DD, with her propensity for interior design, said she would have taken any piece and found a place for it. And as we were driving out of town aiming for Taos I commented, “I was hoping we would find a Mexican pottery shop.”
“Like that,” said DD.
We were in pottery heaven and neither of us had seen it until that moment. "Manifest everything that fast,"said DD as I zipped into the alley and once inside the store we found the most diverse mixture of pottery, jewelry, tiles, Mexican plates, dishes, blankets, wall hangings, more than I can mention. The store had room after room of inspiring merchandise, and then it spilled out into the yard. We ran around like six year olds in a play yard, seeing every area as better than the last. We bought a few things from a lady who loved her job because she loved people, and then we took off for high country.
The focus of our trip was to look at property in Colorado, 45 minutes out of Taos New Mexico.
We aimed across beautiful country where hay had already been harvested, and we were the only car on the road for miles. We rocked along on a road where the road builders had seemingly laid the asphalt directly on the topography without realizing that it would be a good idea to use a bulldozer first. It was a roller coaster ride, and Baby D jostled along in his infant seat happy as a clam.
Our destination was an old ranch being subdivided. It was up twelve miles of dirt road, with an elevation around 10,000 feet. Our trusty van took us up the mountain, over a mesa and down the other side where there was a lake. About every mile or so we would see a house, fairly nice houses, some were made of logs, and there was a Lindel house under construction. I wonder if those hardy souls lived there in the winter for the manager warned us that we might need a four wheel drive. We didn’t though, although there was snow in the surrounding area as it had been most all of our trip, and I bet the trip up this mountain in the winter would be about like climbing the Alps.
The area was littered with rocks, and sagebrush and Pinion pines, and virtually no grass. We heard that wild horses wandered through, but they needed to keep wandering unless they could eat sage or Pinion. We were there on Easter weekend so no sales person stopped us, offered to take us in his four wheel drive, or gave us a sales pitch. Whew!
“Would you live there for a million bucks?” DD asked.
“No way! You’d spend the million getting up this hill.”
And as it turned out altitude is not for either of us.
We conquered the mountain. We did what we set out to do, and we were happy to be aiming south again.
So we were North of Santa Fe, in a little town called Espanola. It felt seedy, unsafe. We spent the night where DD had nightmares, and I had chest pains with each breath. We had hit a wall. We wanted to be home. And I believe it was there I left my computer cable. Darn. I can’t get online or email at home without it.
I drove the next morning, still with chest pains, but not making a big deal about them until I began to feel sick. I pulled over and popped some aspirin. I had visions of me dying and leaving DD with the drive home. She had the same vision, and aimed for the Emergency hospital.
Five hours later, covered with a Kleenex for a blanket, and when I was cold they gave me another Kleenex, it was determined I didn’t have a heart attack, no blood clots, and my heart was normal size. Yes it was weird outside Santa Fe, the nurse even told us there was a penitentiary there where they had a huge riot recently, but weirdness would not explain why I felt so rotten. Altitude would though. (Plus a little cold, plus a little muscle strain from hefting a suitcase over another suitcase and into the back seat of the van.)
DD drove that afternoon, and that evening a snow storm blew us past a Casino after Casino. Every big town had a Casino, and every little town had one, they just varied in size. We figured the Native Americans were getting their just revenge on the white folk. Finally with snow coming at us horizontally we blew into Gallop New Mexico. You wouldn’t believe it though; the next morning was clear, dry and sunny. DD drove that morning and by afternoon I was ready to take the wheel again. We were our old (or perhaps new selves). We rocked on.
Whether we were divinely led or divinely kicked in the pants, either way we had made the decision to go home the southern route and avoid Denver. We heard the following day that Denver had 4 feet of snow delivered that night.
With our decision came magic.
