River Deep, Mountain High

CCM
Before we left Santa Rosa we were on the trail for the Blue Hole, an 80 ft deep natural sink hole filed with crystal clear water, a diver’s paradise or so all he signs suggested. I had convinced Jack that we had to take a dip before our journey could continue. Luckily we never found it. Due to some freak of nature, just one of many witnessed on this journey, the water temperature remains a constant 63 F ( 17 C) all year long-brrrrrrrrrrrrrr. What we did find was a little road side diner that has been around since the good old Route 66 days. Huevos rancheros and off to Albuquerque.


The plan was to stop in Abq. just long enough to blog it up and get back on the road. But no, we found this great coffee shop just off the University of New Mexico campus where some 87 year old man was selling used books. I scored Steinbeck’s Grapes of Wrath, as well as some Faulkner and Hemingway all for $10. Jack has suggested we take a day to read the the Steinbeck classic: no blog, no drive, just chill on dust bowl route 66. Great idea but Jack may have to follow up in Davis. We have places to go, great Americana to see.


Albuquerque was beautiful and warm; we came up and over a ridge to this valley city surrounded by snow dusted mountains. Row upon row upon row of little adobe style houses littered the neighborhoods—cement block homes and businesses covered in brown clay. Jack insisted that we take in the Indian Pueblo Cultural Centre in preparation for Acoma Pueblo, the Sky City. Exhibits were interesting but noy much to them, the highlight was a restaurant/cafeteria serving native dishes. Jack had a sensible traditional soup and fried bread combo while I went for a Beef chili style dish with a side salad. The Chili was excellent, all beef, with a flavour that takes hours of cooking to infuse and get that meat to the falling off the bone stage. In this case it was done in a sauce that was reminiscent of Mexican flavours but there was more—darker, earthier.


Suddenly our day had vanished and we were still in the city centre. We had to see Acoma Pueblo, everyone we met told us so. We had no idea where we would sleep but off we went. On our way out of town we turned off the road to see a stunning display of red ridged landscape, got out, each fired up a cigar (thanks Spike) and realized we had timed our stop perfectly to catch a dazzling sunset—looking like some hippie went slightly mad with a paint brush.

Then we found ourselves on some secondary highway which quickly turned into a dirt road, though it felt like it was time to turn around we gave it a few more minutes, suddenly- pay-dirt, a heard of wild mustangs walking right alongside the car.

For $40 we find a room at the Sky City Casino and gamble away $10.