The Many Roads to Taos
Dosa was one of our favorite San Francisco restaurants; sadly though, south Indian fare is hard to come by in the rural west. We were much in need of a coconut chutney fix when we cruised into Santa Fe last week, so our first meal was at Paper Dosa. A former chef from our SF fave opened his own version here in New Mexico—what luck! When we dove into the green chile cheese dosa we were sold.
We were grateful for more time in Santa Fe. The food is fabulous, the art inspiring and the warmth of the people unmatched. Our friends Peter and Antonio were once again wonderful hosts, providing laughter and a much needed electric extension cord when the temps dropped into the low 20’s. Weather and odd winter hours thwarted us from a few activities, but we had amazing meals and a ton of fun playing games with Peter and Antonio by the warmth of the fireplace in their kitchen. One morning we sat for hours simply watching the snow fall.
As we’ve already written about, from Santa Fe we headed to Los Alamos. The next day we scooted higher up the mountains to Valle Caldera National Preserve, another place we bypassed in the fall. Wow! It was stunning and profoundly peaceful. The preserve is a massive volcanic caldera that teems with wildlife and vistas that go on for miles. The streams were flowing through the massive meadow but the surrounding mountains were still covered in snow.
We chatted with the ranger for quite some time, then headed out for a couple of short hikes. The first led us past a prairie dog town and out to a series of ponds. Mountain bluebirds raced about as we walked, and boreal chorus frogs dominated the soundscape. We used our binoculars to scan for the large elk herd that lives in the preserve, but to no avail. Our next hike started with a series of massive footprints, most likely a mountain lion, which was really exciting to see!
From Valles Caldera, we headed towards Taos, on the high road. Our plan was to camp at alake, but that plan failed when we reached the bottom of the steep narrow road to said lake only to find that the campground was under construction. Plan B: Traverse back to the low road and camp along the Rio Grande (again!) in the Orilla Verde section of the Rio Grande Del Norte National Monument. Though our intention was simply to find a place to sleep for the night so we could explore Taos the next day, it turned out we had stumbled onto a total gem—a five dollar campsite at the bottom of the Rio Grande Gorge with fabulous water views and the sound of the river lulling us to sleep. We stayed for four nights.
Taos rather surprised us. Given that I’d only heard of it in reference to vacationing celebrities, I was expecting it to be snooty and fancy. What we found was a crunchy mountain town with neat architecture and more great art. The adobe buildings, many dating back to the late 1700s, still have character and haven’t been overly restored. We spent a few days poking around, chatting with locals and exploring a real interesting range of art in the galleries.
Up the road from the town of Taos is Taos Pueblo. For over a thousand years the Red Willow people have lived in the main buildings of Taos Pueblo. Set on a mesa at the base of the Sangre de Cristo mountains, it is the oldest continuously inhabited site in the U.S. The residents of the the north and south buildings of the pueblo still live much as they did a thousand years ago; there is no electricity or running water, instead they collect their water from the creek that divides the village in two and use lanterns and candles for light. Fires provide heat.
The residents generously open their village to tours, and we enjoyed walking around meeting pueblo residents and exploring the shops of the town’s artisans. One gentleman showed us around the room that his family inhabited for centuries, telling us stories passed down from generation to generation and pointing out the thousand year old cedar beams that still hold up the ceiling. We talked with another resident artisan who had been a police officer for a dozen years and then decided to return to the pueblo to pursue his art, lead a simpler life, and share the story of his people with visitors. Kindness and generosity abounded with each person we met.
Ovis canadensis nelsoni. The desert bighorn sheep. After a few busy days of exploring, Sunday was declared a chill day, our only plan was a short hike. We cruised up to the end of the Minnie accessible road and parked. Our trailhead was a half mile farther across the river and up a steep windy dirt road. As we walked along a truck pulled up and the guy inside asked if we were looking for sheep. SHEEP!!! Why no, this was not on our radar, but we love love love bighorn sheep. The guy told us where he had seen them and we set off, happily abandoning our trail hike was in favor of sheep-spotting.
Desert bighorn were once plentiful in the southwest, sadly though they are not an animal that does well with human encroachment. While incredibly adapted to the aridity and temperature fluctuations of the desert, they are highly loyal to the places they were born, making them very susceptible to habitat disruptions. Also, diseases carried by domestic sheep are often fatal to bighorns. In most places the local populations are gone, hence we were thrilled to see 22 sheep happily grazing on the cliffs and down by the river on our drive back to camp. We giggled the rest of the afternoon at our good fortune. Over nine months into our adventure, we still look forward to what surprises lie ahead each day!
