Santa Fe and Amarillo

New Mexico

After weathering a few storms in Colorado, our next adventure took us south to New Mexico and Santa Fe. My cousin, Linda, mentioned that we should enjoy this unique town at some point on the trip. We stayed at an Army Corps of Engineers public recreation area on Cochiti Lake, a reservoir formed by an earthen dam on the Rio Grande River. Yet another dam! This area is on the Cochiti Pueblo land, and archeological findings go back 4,000 years. Spanish settlements predate Jamestown!

 

Looking at Cochiti Lake from our campsite. The dam is in the distance.

Beautiful sun and shadows on distant mountains at Cochiti Lake.

We called this plant Trooper Tail.
It is actually Foxtail Barley.

Santa Fe

We drove into Santa Fe with a few destinations in mind: 

1. A sawmill with (hopefully) scraps of local wood for Dave’s woodturning.
2. A post office to mail an anniversary card to Dave’s brother, John and his wife, Dale. (Hope you had fun at Disney!)
3. A dog park for Trooper.
4. The Plaza and a place to eat lunch.
5. Anything else that looked interesting.

 We met the sawmill owner (another David) who graciously gave my Dave some pieces of Red Oak. No charge. Very friendly! Spotted Owl Timber Co.  http://www.spottedowltimber.com/

 We found a post office after passing the Santa Fe National Cemetery. Green grass is not a vegetation commonly found in the high desert, but the cemetery was carpeted with it. It was comforting to know our veterans were laid to rest in such beautiful surroundings. My parents are buried in the Sarasota National Cemetery, and it is also a lovely setting. If a loved one is buried in any of our national cemeteries, you can search for the grave location at this website: ww.cem.va.gov/nationwide-gravesite-locator/. If the page doesn't load completely, click the + next to NGL (Nationwide Gravesite Locator).

 Frank Ortiz Dog Park is the best dog park I’ve ever visited: 138 acres of off-leash area for “free range dogs.” A watering area for thirsty pups was cleverly designed so no water stands in the bowls for longer than 10 seconds, meaning each dog gets fresh water every time. Trails through the sparse sagebrush make for easy hiking, but the dogs and owners can go anywhere – between sagebrush bushes, up and down hills, into shaded pavilions, and even up to a large rock with a plaque remembering over 4,500 Japanese Americans interned near there from 1943 to 1946.

 

The remembrance rock for 4,555 Japanese American men interned for 3 years.

 The Plaza

The Plaza, the true centerpiece of Santa Fe, is a large area about twice as long as the Ocala square, but about the same width. The Plaza has lots of eateries interspersed with shops featuring local art, jewelry, and clothing. There is an open market area on one side with native jewelry for sale. Green grass, trees, and park benches in the center complete the area, and it is nice that several streets along the square are closed to traffic. We chose to eat at the Plaza Café, where outdoor seating allowed Trooper to join us. Dave had a burger with hatch chiles, which he first tasted in Albuquerque on our way west, and I had chicken-stuffed sopaipillas. Delicious! We may try to grow some hatch chiles in the garden this summer, and I may try my hand making sopaipillas.

 

Love the Plaza Cafe's Open sign.

The outdoor seating area was protected by these colorful shade sails.

 

 We strolled around the plaza and adjoining streets, and after hearing church bells, discovered The Cathedral Basilica of St. Francis of Assisi. I entered and chatted with a volunteer docent, who gave me a good bit of information. The church was established in 1610. Down the street is the San Miguel Chapel which is the oldest Catholic church in continental America. It also began in 1610. 

I find it amazing that these magnificent churches were built a decade before the pilgrims landed at Plymouth Rock, which many of us consider the beginning of our country. I'm also reminded of the ancient petroglyphs we saw at Valley of Fire. There is certainly more to North America than we learned in school!

The Cathedral Basilica of St. Francis of Assisi

Inside the Cathedral

 

Out on a limb

On the way back to the truck we passed some city workers trimming trees. Dave said to me, “I wonder what they’re going to do with that wood.” I replied, “Go ask.” Which he did. They gave him a limb about 6 inches in diameter, and about 2 ½ feet long. It was a rather heavy limb of locust wood, but Dave shouldered it and carried it to the truck. As he unlocked the vehicle he said sheepishly, “I don’t know where I’m going to put this thing.” But Dave, being a certified Master Packer, figured it out. Later I asked Dave to help me pack away our heavy jackets and extra blanket, as we weren't going to need them anymore. His reply, "Uh, that bin is full of locust and red oak."

 Artsy Fartsy

Santa Fe is one of those "artsy fartsy" towns, and we enjoyed many outdoor sculptures as well as items for sale in the stores. 

Santa Fe is for Art Lovers. And that's no bull.

Of course, one of our favorites is Barn Dog.

Dave may try making this magnetic knife holder.
Price tag? $2300.

Sonny Boy's Brother

 We encountered Sonny Boy's brother at Cochiti Lake campground. We drove down to the boat ramp and swimming "beach" (rocks) to check out the area. We saw a man (Sonny Bro) with a boat tied up at the dock, a man (Uncle) backing his truck and empty trailer down toward the ramp, and a man at the beach area ready to launch his kayak (Kayak Man). It was obvious two were taking out and one was putting in. And that is where the obvious ended. 

Sonny Bro walked up toward the truck, presumably to help Uncle aim the trailer to the proper loading area, when all of a sudden the boat, blown by the wind, began drifting away from the dock. Sonny Bro ran (fast!) down to the dock, only to find he had a rope tied to the dock, but not to the boat. The wind was brisk, and blew the boat parallel to shore, while Sonny Bro stood on the dock and watched. Uncle was unaware of the situation, and continued backing the trailer into the water to load the now-missing boat.

The hero of the story, Kayak Man, paddled out to attempt to capture the wayward boat, but there was no rope to grab. So he pushed at the boat with the nose of the kayak to attempt to aim it toward shore. It appeared he was no match for the wind. No one threw the dock rope to Kayak Man, and apparently Bro and Uncle couldn't swim, as they made no move to leave the dock. 

We left before the story ended, but stopped by the boat ramp the next day. Apparently it ended well, as there was no boat, trailer, nor kayak anywhere to be seen. Unless it all went south. Where the dam's spillway is located.

 

Amarillo

Off to Amarillo, and a return to camping at Palo Duro Canyon State Park. We had three goals:

1.           Spray painting at The Cadillac Ranch (see www.roadsideamerica.com/story/2220)
2. Hiking the Lighthouse Trail in the canyon.
3. Good Texas Bar-B-Q.
   

 

 

 The hardest part about spray painting old Caddies is deciding which color. Neon yellow? Red Barn? Camouflage? I said "No" to camo – I would have had to buy 3 cans, tan, green, and brown. I decided on a lovely aqua-turquoise color of Rust-oleum called Seaside Gloss that I can use on a table when I get home. We pulled up on the I-40 Frontage Road and parked near a dozen other cars. Not only were the Cadillacs painted, the concrete barriers along the road, the railing of the cattle fence, even the paved and dirt roads were painted. Nothing was safe from spray paint! I painted Trooper’s name on the concrete barrier.

 

Just practicing…

 Paint a smile on your face

We took Trooper with us (Cadillac Ranch is one of the Dog Friendly sites in Amarillo) and headed out to the field where the cars are buried, nose first. I decided to paint the underside of a car that had the least mud and water around it (for Trooper’s sake, of course) and began spraying the differential and drive shaft. I made a large cross and painted “Jesus” over that. Dave suggested I take care of a spring, and then I painted whatever. It was fun painting legal graffiti! 

 

Cadillac Ranch - a tribute to the evolution of The Fin

Finished product

1959 was the year of the largest fin. By 1965 they were gone.
They are gone a Cadillac Ranch, too. Broken off and stolen.

  Dave's Turn

As we left, Dave traded me the spray can for the dog leash. After a few steps I turned around and, on the ground he drew a heart with our initials in it. How sweet! How adolescent! He also wrote a very large message that all should heed: Go Gators!

 

Dave's turn

Dave's contribution #1

 

Dave's contribution #2
The Gator Nation is Everywhere!

 

We decided to try local Texas Bar-B-Q for dinner before heading back to Palo Duro. Tyler's Barbeque (tylersbarbeque.com) had great ratings, was nearby, and was delicious! We'll be back, Tyler!

Back at Palo Duro

The one hike we wanted to take at the canyon was the Lighthouse Trail, going to the park’s signature rock feature. Alas, a rainstorm began the night of our arrival, causing all the clay trails in the park to be closed the next day. They were muddy and slippery, with large puddles. After bushwhacking in Yosemite, what could hold us back? Certainly, no large puddle or mud! It was the closed gates, “Trail Closed” sign, and park ranger sitting in his truck that did us in. Instead, we found an empty parking lot and let Trooper run around for a while, and then hiked around the campground loop a few times. 

 

The Lighthouse at Palo Duro Canyon.
Alas, this hike was the one that got away.
Picture credit: Kathryn Frazer's blog "Adventures with A+K"

 

Trooper jumped up on lots of these large rocks.
One more way to wear him out.

 We also visited the Sad Monkey Mercantile a few miles outside the park. The only thing of interest to me was a children’s book, The Grumpy Monkey, but it wasn’t for sale.

 

Dave and I are always welcome at The Sad Monkey

 

Sonny Boy’s Sisters

And now, for our feature presentation! 

 We were surprised how many campers left Palo Duro after the rainy night. Was it because of the closed trails, or the threat of more rainy weather? But it didn’t take long for the campground to fill back up. As we walked Trooper around the campground loop yet again, a black dog rushed us from one of the campsites. Fortunately, his harness was tied to a tree, and he could only run at us for about 20 ft. But his ferocious barking was enough to put me off, and it also caused his little buddy to begin barking, as well. The owners were two girls, probably in their 20’s, new arrivals, who were not-very-successfully trying to set up a tent which attaches to the back hatch of the car. They were oblivious to the dogs, never tried to stop them, and again, I was put off.  I decided they were Sonny Boy’s sisters, Sonny Girl and Sunny Girl (she had red hair).

For some reason, the girls moved their campsite next door to ours. Great. As campers walked their dogs, Sonny Dog would rush out, straining at the rope, and bark incessantly. Again, the girls did nothing to stop the behavior, or apologize to the other campers.

 They began preparing dinner. “I thought you brought that.” “No, I forgot, sorry.” “But we were just at Wal*Mart!” It reminded me of our missing camp chairs the first evening of our trip.

The dogs were put in the car, where they could go through the hatch to the tent and back into the car. We decided to walk Trooper again, and as we passed their site Sonny Dog began his furious barking again, this time from the front seat. We had to return past their site, and the dogs went crazy again. No move from either girl. 

Somehow Sonny Dog got loose and tore down the asphalt toward two dachshunds being walked by elderly (that means older than us) people. Sonny Girl races after, screaming at him; Sunny Girl is close behind. I think the wiener dogs avoided becoming sausage, as one dachshund owner picked up her dog and Sonny Girl dragged Sonny Dog back by the harness.

There was some good to come out of the situation. The girls knew my mantra:

 

There’s a Wal*Mart nearby!