(Caleb Edit: El forgot about the part when we lifted out of South Park and into the Arkansas River Valley which is one of the most spectacular areas of Colorado. Here are some pictures of the Collegiate Peaks and the surrounding areas. We’ll let the photos do the speaking…)
You can see the Sand Dunes probably about 2 hours before you actually get to them. When they first appear they look like little mounds of dirt against a mountain backdrop, but as you get closer (and it seemed like we kept getting closer but were never going to actually get there) you start to see that they are massive enough to look like little shadows of the actual mountains themselves.
When we finally arrived at the entrance to the National Park we paid the ranger and headed to the picnic grounds, where we lunched on some granola, yogurt and bananas (in hindsight, not enough calories for what we were about to do) then made our way to the base of the Sand Dunes, unsure of what exactly we were going to attempt (to climb the highest peak or to not).
The dunes are truly remarkable. In reality, the word “dune” doesn’t really cut it. They are more like mountains of sand with ridges ,valleys, and peaks – except they are much more fluid than actual mountains because the wind works artistic magic on the dunes creating all kinds of interesting patterns and lines. Everyone knows what it feels like to walk in sand. Well, imagine hiking about 1,000 vertical ft to a peak of about 8,000 ft., with nothing but sand beneath your feet. It’s hard work. Sporadically, we would hit patched of sand that had been worked by the wind (you could tell because it was rippled), and this was the best place to be because the sand was packed down and it was almost like walking on solid ground – but in an instant, you could hit the weak, sinky sand and be trudging up an incline while your feet, ankles, and sometimes calf disappeared into the quicksand-ish ground. Finding yourself in a sand valley was the strangest sensation – a cross between what being on an alien planet might feel like and what being lost in the middle of the Sahara desert might feel like. It was as if the rest of the landscape had disappeared and there was only sand all around us. Caleb and I couldn’t help thinking about whether or not movies were ever filmed at the dunes. Spaceballs, “combing the desert”, and that giant blow dryer definitely came to mind.
We huffed our way to the highest peak and took an incredible amount of pictures along the way. The dunes are so unique that you feel the need to take a picture every 10 steps. Plus, as you climb the mountains of sand, the actual mountains surrounding you on all sides and the valleys below take on a new character because of your perspective from the dunes. It took us about an hour and a half to get up and about 20 minutes to get down. It was a fun 20 minutes. People actually sled down the dunes – and we thought we saw someone snowboarding – but we didn’t have any gear so we just ran, slid and got sandy.
Now, after hearing all that you might be wondering – how the hell does an 8,000+ ft. mountain of sand form? The answer: grain by grain. And something about the mountains and the sediment and the perfect direction that the wind blows. Pretty unbelievable, but I swear it exists…
Two more hours in the car and we had left the plains of Colorado behind and entered a more desert-like geography. The mountains still very present but speckled with little desert bushes instead of dense with pine. Our arrival in the small town of Taos, NM also marked our arrival into adobe country. There must be zoning laws that prevent building anything except adobe because even the McDonald’s and Comfort Suites were traditional adobe architecture. Our campsite – 15 miles out of town, was adobe free. Luckily we arrived with enough daylight to set up our camp for the night and shower before the sun went down.
On our way back into town for our first taste of Southwestern fare, it started to sprinkle. Eek. Luckily, by the time we had reached Orlando’s – our choice for dinner that evening – the rain had stopped (for the time being). With a small wait running at the restaurant, we took a seat around the adobe wood burning stove in the Christmas light lit garden patio with Corona’s in hand. In the short time we waited, we received a little lesson in small worldliness as the two other couples sharing our space around the fire introduced themselves: Couple #1 – From Needham, MA (the husband was born in Syracuse). Couple #2 – From Ottawa (but had flown from Syracuse because they couldn’t get a passport for their infant son, so they had to drive him across the border and then fly to NM).
Dinner was delicious but SPICY – I couldn’t really taste much after my first bite. After dinner we headed back to our campsite, to our dismay, in the rain. Caleb did some tent rigging and trench digging when we arrived back at the tent and we snuggled up in our bags, hoping we would stay dry – and we did. My new sleeping bag was perfect. I stayed dry and warm. I woke up only once to some animal that was screeching at the top of its lungs. Not sure what it was, I asked Caleb if he had heard it – but he hadn’t. I thought maybe I was dreaming until the following night when Caleb asked me if I had heard the coyotes during the night…I hadn’t heard them but that’s definitely what I had heard the night before.
We began the next day with heuvos ranchers at a cute coffee shop called the Bean. Again, super spicy. They don’t mess around with their chiles. You could get your huevos with a choice of Red Chile (more mild), Green chile (more of a kick), or Christmas (half and half). As Comissioner of his fantasy football league Caleb was in the midst of dealing with a big controversy within his league. So I wrote post cards as he made conference calls. After breakfast we headed to the town plaza, a itty bitty little thing that conveniently was wired for Internet. We probably spent more time than was normal, parked in our car computing while in Taos.
After computer time in the plaza we headed to the Taos Pueblo located just outside of town on the Taos Indian reservation. The strangest thing about going to the Pueblo is that you are paying to walk around and take pictures of basically someone’s neighborhood. It’s hard to understand why someone would want to live in dusty huts with no running water or electricity when there is a civilized world 5 minutes away. But then again, what do I understand about the Indian heritage or what it means to people to preserve and pass this heritage along? It’s also hard to understand why people would want to allow such exploitation of their neighborhood. On the flip side – the residents take full advantage, most have some sort of handicraft that they sell to the tourists visiting the pueblo. Caleb and I both made purchases – turquoise earrings (for me) and a horse hair vase for Caleb. The architecture of the Pueblo itself is made up centrally of two 5 story ancient adobe (meaning made of mud and straw, not the stuff you see in town) architectural structures (with multi colored doors). One is called the North house, one the South house, named by their relation to the “river”, which really appears to be a little stream. Other than that the “tour” included the very small Church and a graveyard. It was very interesting, but it left both Caleb and me thoughtful about the experience.
From the Pueblo we went to the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge. Man was it windy – and you could feel the bridge shaking as cars passed over it. We had originally thought we would try and go hiking around the gorge area (so maybe Caleb could fish on the Rio Grande), but after finding the Visitors Center and learning what our options were (and none included a hike with fishing) we decided to head back to camp for some R&R and showers before dinner.
Caleb spent time back at the camp drafting his official ruling on the fantasy football crisis and I organized and wrote postcards. Our tent had dried from the night before which was a relief and we when we left for dinner there was no sign of rain on the horizon. We ended up at Adobe Bar because we had read that it has the best margaritas in NM. We should know better. However, we should have known it was going to be a good night when we scored two seats at the bar, a flat screen right in front of us was showing the first inning of the Sox/Angels game, and a blues band was jamming in the room just next door. We proceeded to try out what were not the best margarita’s in NM, share a cheese plate (jball) ,Portobello tacos, and a slice of pumpkin cheesecake. We thoroughly enjoyed the sounds coming from the band in next room and didn’t leave until Manny hit the game winning home run in the bottom of the 9th.
The following morning, after packing up our campsite and putting on our hiking gear we grabbed breakfast at a hippie café (green chile bagels) – which had a very eclectic décor and clientele. After breakfast we hiked the Devisadero Loop – a 5 mile hike with views of the Taos valley and surrounding mountains. While hiking we decided it should’ve been called “Two Face” hike or “half moon cookie” hike because one face of the mountain was very barren and desert-like, with little patches of mini cacti (we even saw a tarantula!) while the other, which got less sun, was more of a shady forest environment. There was a nice sitting area at the peak with cool man-made stone chairs.
After our hike we were starving and drove around looking for a sandwich shop in the guidebook. When we finally located the place(our guidebook needs new cartographers), it was closed (at 2:45 on a Saturday!). So, we ended up at a local joint – Guadalajara Grill – where we mowed on more Mexican food (awesome grilled fish tacos) and sipped on Pacifico’s.
The drive to Santa Fe was more speckled mountains and tundra plains. The mountains made it a challenge to call my Mom to wish her a HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Because the cell signal kept cutting in and out. After two days of camping we were happy to check into the Sage Inn. By the time we set out on the 15 minute walk into Santa Fe it was dark. The darkness didn’t take away from the charm of Santa Fe. There were so many neat looking shops and restaurants. There were a lot of places that I would have liked to eat, but were out of our budget travel price range. After a bit of wandering around what we both thought was quite a dead town for a Saturday (I think I expected Santa Fe to be much bigger than it actual is) we decided on the Shed for dinner (more Mexican!). The margaritas at the Shed were great and the food not too bad. The décor was very Southwestern and charming. After dinner we decided, in our old age, to go back to the hotel and relax since this would be our last night not camping for probably about a week.
After a continental breakfast at the Sage Inn, we took a drive to Canyon Rd. – the famous road sprinkled with galleries. We took in a few galleries, but didn’t last too long. An especially annoying gallery owner really turned us off when she told us that the man who had been leaving the gallery when we were entering told us, “that man just told me he has a $300,000 Art budget and he didn’t give me a penny of it.” Too much information lady. After a sushi stop at glorious Whole Foods (which just happened to be next to the Sage Inn and a welcome change from all the heavy guacamole and sour cream) we hit the road for Sedona.
An observation about Taos, Santa Fe, and New Mexico in general – there are so many older people. There was a woman at breakfast that had on a sweatshirt that read on the front “Official dog walker – frequent stops” and then on the back “frequent stops”. Also, not only at breakfast, but on Canyon Rd. as well, we were the youngest by 20-30 years. Caleb informed me that New Mexico and Arizona are the Floridas of the Southwest which I wasn’t aware of. Good to know. Caleb and I think we’ll hold off going back to Taos or Santa Fe until we are “older” or have a $300,000 art budget.
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