Travels with Matthew

I’m sitting in the Austin airport drafting my final entry for this trip while we wait for our flight home. The trip has been great, but it’ll be good to get back home to a routine and to see Elvis and our friends.

On Thursday afternoon, the boys and I retraced our steps down the Turquoise Trail. It’s funny how different the landscape looks when you approach it from different directions. “Desolate” is the word that keeps coming to mind when I think about the New Mexico landscape, but that’s not a fair term. It carries too many negative connotations. It implies that the land had been beautiful once but is now spoiled, an inscription of pillage and destruction.

On the contrary, the scenery along the Trail is barely and, for the most part, lightly touched. A landscape like rural New Mexico’s presents a different face than what those of us who grew up in the Midwest would call “beautiful,” but beauty is there, nonetheless. It’s quieter. It requires attention and contemplation. The small patch of green nestled at the base of a dead stalk of grass preparing for a new season of growth. The tiny blue-green leaves along the branches of dense stands of dark gray, wind-twisted shrubbery. The lone beetle crossing the path in search of shelter or water. The snake and rabbit and prairie-dog holes. The scratchings of ancient peoples telling stories forgotten or well-hidden.

Mark and I bought a small Mata Ortiz pottery at a turquoise and gift shop on the north end of Madrid. According to the wizened woman running the shop, Mata Ortiz pottery is becoming more and more expensive and in demand, but we bought it as an acknowledgement of and connection to the indigenous peoples of the southwest. And it’s just really pretty.

We also bought a sand painting from an estate collection that I have to research further.

Surprisingly, just as many shops in Madrid were closed on Thursday as on Monday, so we didn’t get into many places. We did stop in Kevin Schaffer Photography and really considered buying a print on metal for our kitchen, but we decided we need to settle on a color for the wall where it will hang before committing to anything. We’ve got his card.

These are just a few random shots in Madrid.

Jeff and I bought some chocolate at an artisan chocolatier—it was nothing to write home about—and we got back on the road. Lunch at Greenside Café, over to Kevin and Jeff’s friend, Steve’s, home where they would finish their trip, and then down to our VRBO. We tried to have dinner with the three of them that evening at a local food hall, Sawmill Market, but the place was packed, and we couldn’t find a place for all five of us to sit together. When two busloads of college students started tromping in, we gave it up as a lost cause. We ended up at a brewpub around the corner, and that was just fine.

Mark and I had breakfast at the market the following morning and drove along historic Route 66 before heading off to take a tram ride to the top of Sandia Peak. Unfortunately, when we got there, we learned that the tram had been shut down for the day due to high winds. Since that was our main planned activity for the day, we were at a bit of a loss what to do, so we had donuts and muffins at Dunkin’ while we figured it out. I’d been craving a double-chocolate donut, so it was a perfect lunch. 🤣 In the end, we decided to go back Rinconada Canyon, the trail in Petroglyph National Monument that had been closed earlier in the week, and just hike for a couple hours. The trail was open today. Yay!

We saw a lot more petroglyphs on the Piedras Marcadas Canyon trail, but we saw more vegetation on this trail, and that was a nice contrast. It was, however, a windy day, and a couple sprinkles of rain blew in—not enough to be a problem, just enough to know it was there. When we finished the trail and returned to the parking lot, ours was the only car left. I don’t know if the rain scared the handful of other folks away or if they were just done. The sky certainly looked threatening to the east, but the wind was out of the west, and we weren’t worried.

After our second two-hour hike of the week, I needed a nap, so we returned to our VRBO and veged for a couple hours. It really was a pretty lazy Valentine’s Day. We drove around the city a little more and then went back to the Range restaurant for an early dinner. Two Miss Marple movies on TV until bedtime, then up this morning for the journey home.

Thanks for following along. We’re about to board, so I’ll call it a completed vacation. Until next time….

As I mentioned previously, Kevin, Jeff, and I ate breakfast at The Pantry yesterday. We’re all four going back today before we get on the road back to Albuquerque. I’m craving doughnuts, though, so I thought I’d get a couple while I waited for everyone to get ready. Unfortunately, the Dunkin parking lot was packed, and everything around it was reserved for other businesses. I suppose don’t need the sugar and fat, anyway. (Sour 🍇.) But back to yesterday.

The New Mexico Museum of Art was beckoning yesterday, but on the way, Jeff wanted to stop at shop that sold pottery and metal sculptures—you know the kind: cactuses, frogs, dogs, etc. formed from panels of rusty metal. I think we all reached the conclusion pretty quickly that it was mostly of very low quality, so while Jeff and Kevin wandered, Mark and I retreated to the warmth of the car. (It’s very cold in Santa Fe right now.) Bur not before Mark captured this guy.

The museums’s collection is a lot of what you’d expect to see in a state museum in the southwest, but it had surprising exhibits, too, and a lot of modern/contemporary art. The exhibit that I found most interesting was “The Plain of Smokes,” which introduced me to a portfolio of art and poetry that I’d not previously known but am now very interested in reading/seeing.

The museum is not atypical—lots of rooms and a couple courtyards (one is below). It also includes what I’m going to call a church but that the museum calls the St. Francis Auditorium. It’s a very dark space barely illuminated by high, small clerestory windows and filled with a stage that’s very much like an altar and pew seating. What I thought was interesting, though, was an easily overlooked plaque noting that Stravinsky’s “The Flood,” premiered in the auditorium in 1962 with the composer in attendance. (There was a typo on the plaque, but I didn’t point it out. I’m sure that the museum is aware of it after all this time.)

We wandered over to the state house, which has its own very large, impressive collection of art. The legislature is in session, so it was quite the beehive of activity. Folks milling around. Well-dressed people doing deals in the hallways. Legislative assistants talking on their phones or drafting legislation or responses to constituent letters or researching various topics on their computers. A student band playing in the rotunda. It was a bit of sensory overload, and I was glad to get back out into the open air and just take in the architecture.

As you can see, it was a beautiful day, despite the cold.

Rather than return to Canyon Road, Jeff suggested that we visit a newer arts area, the Railyard Arts District. We ate lunch in the area at Tomasita’s. I like “Mexican” food, but a little sometimes goes a long way. New Mexico has a LOT of Mexican/New Mexican/TexMex restaurants, and I was kinda quesedilla’d out. I had a hamburger. It was fine.

By the time we finished our late lunch, Kevin was pooped, so he took an Uber back to the VRBO while Mark, Jeff, and I continued on. I think we were all also a bit tired and cold, and we really only made a perfunctory foray into the district. We stopped in a store with imported home furnishings, a store with some really beautiful African furnishings and accessories, one gallery, and an art auction house. It’s a testament to our state of mind that I can’t remember the name of any of them to provide references. One thing I did notice is that in multiple places, an employee followed me from room to room. 🙄 I had a bag on my shoulder, and since the district is in an up-and-coming area, I guess they were suspicious. 😂 I’d like to go back to the Railyard Arts District because I’m sure we missed a lot. As we were driving back to our place, I saw several galleries that I would like to have visited.

We got back around 4 or 4:30, and then mostly just puttered around (Jeff walked over to The Pantry and had pie) waiting for the day’s main event. I had scheduled for us an astronomy tour for that evening. (Actually, for the previous evening, but it was cloudy on Tuesday night, so we rescheduled.)

Around 7:15, we jumped in the rental Rav 4 and headed out into the dark lands where Peter, our astronomer guide, was scheduled to meet us. I wish I had some pictures of what we’d seen, but I forgot my good camera, and frankly, I don’t know if my hands would have worked to press the shutter button. It was extremely cold. I think the thermometer registered 27, but we were on a windy plateau, so it felt more like the low teens. Jeff and Kevin had to retreat to the car at one point. (They’re fully San Diego boys now. Their hearty Columbus blood has thinned.)

I think we all agreed that the tour was well worth the cold. Peter has a 20-inch telescope on site through which he showed us Venus, Jupiter, Mars, and several star clusters and nebulae. Totally by chance, we spotted a falling star that looked like a green firework raining down only 100 yards away, and we saw at least a half dozen satellites. I didn’t even know satellites were visible from the ground!

Peter spent about 90 minutes with us, and though at first, I think his approach was more geared toward a juvenile audience, he realized that we were a little more advanced than that and matured his talk a little. The main thrust of his presentation was to explain the science of how, since Galileo, astronomers figured out that the earth is not the center of the universe or of the galaxy and where in our galaxy our solar system is positioned. Obviously, we knew we aren’t the center of, well, anything, but to learn how scientists actually figured that out was pretty neat. Don’t ask me to explain it, though. 🤣

Around 9:30, we said goodbye to Peter and headed back to our VRBO. We spent the rest of the evening just trying to get feeling back in our toes.

It’s Thursday morning now, and still very cold here. I’m grateful for the sun, though. We’re getting ready to get breakfast, clear out, and head back to Albuquerque (where it’s warmer). More to come.

Yesterday started out with a bang. I was reaching back with my razor to clean up my neckline, and I caught the top of my right ear with the razor. Damn, do ears bleed. I skipped breakfast out with the boys because I couldn’t get it to stop. When I pulled the bandage off this morning, it started bleeding again, but just a little bit. I think it will dry, but I’m going to carry another bandage with me today just in case it starts again in earnest.

As I said, I stayed home while Mark, Kevin, and Jeff went to The OG Pantry. It’s a local diner a block from our VRBO. (I got to go this morning, and it’s very reasonable—$5 for two eggs and toast. After the O’Keeffe yesterday, which I already mentioned, we walked around downtown a little to see some galleries. (Santa Fe is almost entirely about art for us. I hope you’re not bored.) All of the ones we visited were full of beautiful things, but the first one we went to, The Manitou Galleries…. WOW! If I had $50 or $60k laying around, I’d have walked out of there with a half dozen pieces.

Here are some of my favorites.

There was so much good art at the downtown galleries. Much—probably most—of it is contemporary art—abstract, Modernist, abstract expressionist—if you’re looking for an old Dutch master, good luck finding it in Santa Fe. I wish we’d had more time to spend downtown, but onward we had to go. Scrounging around for a place to have lunch, someone suggested we go to La Fonda—a grand old hotel in operation for more than a century. (Yep, it’s still La Fonda, Doug.) It’s filled with art, too, but perhaps as important, it has a restaurant, La Plazuela that was very reasonably priced and head and shoulders above any hotel restaurant I’ve been in. The hotel also houses a French patisserie. Sigh. We didn’t make it there. Next time. Here’s a photo I took of the boys horsing around near the Santa Fe Plaza.

The weather was turning on us, but we soldiered on and visited Canyon Road, famous for its 100+ galleries. It’s not at all what I was expecting, but it was quaint and pleasant to walk—other than the snow flurries. Unfortunately for us, though, many galleries were closed on Tuesday. Not high season. The ones we were able to get into, including the one that the owner opened for us, were fantastic. Of course, I spotted one painting that ended up being my favorite of the day. Too rich for my blood, though. (Actually, everything was since we’d bought a rug, but even in we hadn’t spent our limit, we couldn’t afford most of what we saw unless we both had much better jobs. 😁)

I think all of our backs and feet were killing us by around 4:30, so we headed back to the VRBO. And besides, most of the galleries closed at 5, and it was getting dark.

Naps were taken. Dinner at iHop. Then to round out a busy day, we played a rousing match of the card game, Phase 10. I pulled it out in a squeaker with Kevin. I think it’s the first time I’ve ever won Phase 10. Off to bed, then a new set of museums galleries today, which I’ll talk about next time.

So yesterday…. I felt much better Monday morning. Mark and I took it easy, though. We had breakfast at Range Café, a large diner not far from our VRBO. I was impressed with their branding. (I know, “whatever.”But it was clear they had a pro designing their materials—menus, signage, even the exit sign in the parking lot were all really well done.) Mark had a dish with cheesy grits, eggs, chicken, avocado, and green chile. I should have taken a picture before he dug in, but here’s the near aftermath. Yes, that’s about half way through his meal.

I knew already that I had been eating too much, so I tried to eat a little lighter but ended up getting a red-velvet cinnamon roll as big as my head. Surprisingly, it wasn’t as great as it sounds.

FYI, I hate this picture of myself. Me head is HUGE.

It was probably 10 when we left the cafe, and we had lunch plans at El Pinto with Kevin, Jeff, and their friend, Steve, at 11:30, so we didn’t do a lot after breakfast.

El Pinto is actually a really neat, place with beautiful grounds. It’s been there forever. Steve said his parents used to take him there when he was a kid. I’d definitely recommend it.

I was still trying to cut back on the amount I was eating, so I had planned not to have anything. I feel bad going to a restaurant and just getting tea, though, so I ordered a pork quesadilla. It was very, very good, and I ate half thinking I’d snack on the rest later. Of course, I walked out without the second half.

After lunch, Steve passed Kevin and Jeff to us, and the four of us started our journey northward. Taking 125 from Albuquerque is easy, but it’s just not fun. I insisted we drive up the Turquoise Trail, and I’m so glad we did. It’s beautiful country, and I can see what drew Georgia O’Keeffe to the area. We stopped along the way in a town called Madrid—that’s “MAA-drid,” not “muh-DRID.” It’s how we’d say it in Ohio, the land of Russia (ROO-she) and Vienna (vi-AN-nuh). At least we got “Athens” right, and “Toledo” isn’t too far off.

Madrid is a funky little art community. It had been an mostly derelict mining town until the 60s, when hippies and counter-culture folks started relocating to the abandoned shacks that had been left behind.

Talking with artists and gallerists in town was a lot more fun than I would have expected. I’m always worried that if we’re not buying, they’re not interested in talking to us, but that really isn’t the case—especially not in Madrid. I ended up buying a sand painting, and Mark bought a, well, I’m not sure what to call it, exactly. It’s a small wooden box—maybe 3 by 8—with a surface of reclaimed, dyed mica.

It was a bit quiet in town; a lot of the studios and galleries are closed on Mondays. We spent a few hours going into the shops that were open and got through about half of the town. We’re going to return to Albuquerque on Thursday—again by the Turquoise Trail—and we’ll catch the other shops along the way.

The VRBO I booked for us here in Santa Fe here is very nice. It’s a spacious 3/2 with a cozy living area and small kitchen. It’s well appointed, and we have been quite comfortable. We got settled in, but we didn’t stay long. It was nearly dinner time when we finally got to Santa Fe, so we drove to Santa Fe Plaza, wandered for a bit, and then got dinner. Still trying to digest the mountain of food I’d been eating, I only ordered dessert—mud pie. I shouldn’t have done even that! I had acid reflux all night and slept most of it in upright in a chair. Maybe I’ll learn; I skipped breakfast.

The Georgia O’Keeffe Museum beckoned today, so we spent a few hours enjoying her work then wandered the plaza again. (The gallery’s and shops were closed the night before.) I’ll tell you more about that in the next post.

Oh, and I realized I’m not taking many pictures on this trip. I forgot my big camera, and I haven’t been remembering to take my phone out of my pocket. I’ll do better the rest of the trip.

It’s Monday. We just arrived in Santa Fe. After lunch yesterday, Mark and I took a bit of a nap. My feet were killing me—that happens a lot more as I get older—and I was fighting a headache—also an increasingly frequent occurrence—too much screen time and inadequate pillows. I guess we slept for about an hour and then walked over to the Old Town Plaza. It was less open than I expected, but a lot bigger.

As you’d expect, there were some junk shops, but there were also some decent restaurants and cafés and some nice galleries and boutique shops. We looked at some art, bought a small watercolor (of course), and were on the verge of buying a piece of Acoma pottery by a noted potter named Melissa Concho Antonio (I think). It was similar to the one below, but it had more of a vase top, and the pattern was more intricate.

We had a really nice conversation with the retailer (I thought he was going to be an old crank) and thought about it, but decided we would get it when we returned to Albuquerque at the end of the week.

Here’s the watercolor.

We wandered a little more, and Mark stopped in front of store called Oaxacan Zapotec House that, frankly, I thought was going to be just another junk store. From the outside, it looked to me like a Mexican version of a Spencer’s Gifts. I know, I should know by now not to judge a book by its cover. We stepped in and immediately went in different directions. I saw a lot of Día de los Muertos stuff along with racks of kitschy knick-knacks and was getting ready to leave when I noticed Mexican textiles in a second room at the back of the store. “Hmm,” I thought. “Maybe I’ll find some cheap table runners or place mats.” Boy was I in the wrong place.

Hanging on the walls of this “back room” were dozens of large, beautiful, hand-woven wool rugs. Thinking he’d like the colors and patterns too, I called Mark back to show him one I particularly loved. Now, our home is not decorated in Southwestern style, and we don’t want it to be, so there was zero danger that we would buy it. Mark snooped around and found a couple more designs that he really liked, too, and looked at me and said, “You know, we have been looking for a rug for the dining room for seven years with no luck. This would look great in there.” Suddenly….

The salesman came to check on us, and Mark pointed out the rug he liked most. Unfortunately, it was the wrong dimensions. “Let me show you another one, just for the size.” [Un huh. Just for the size. Sure.] He dug down through a stack and pulled out a rug with a sort of contemporized Zapotec design, and Mark fell in love. To make this long story short, we’ll have a new rug waiting for us when we get back to Columbus, and the Acoma pottery was off the table. The rug looks very much like this, but this isn’t a great photo. Ours has a bluer background, and the colors are bright than they appear here.

We walked around the plaza a little more, then we stopped at a Mexican restaurant to get a bite of dinner and ignore the Super Bowl playing on the TV behind me. It was dark by then, and cooling off, so we walked home—after Mark bought a T shirt—and just crashed.

I’ll tell you about what we did today when I pick this back up tomorrow.