A year after our first trip to Santa Fe, we had the opportunity to return for a wedding. There wouldn’t be a flight for this trip like the previous one. We would need to get to Santa Fe in a car, which created a challenge since days off from work weren’t available. Santa Fe is about a 10 hour drive from home. But… we enjoy road trips – how difficult could this be?

Friday 2012 06 08

Lack of vacation time meant we couldn’t depart from the area until the evening. We threw a few things in the little blue Kia Spectra and headed west. The goal was to just drive, a difficult task for us as we have a habit of exploring backroads and other points of interest. We made it to Clarendon and found a small Mexican restaurant, one of those hole-in-the wall spots that looks so bad the food has to be good. First exception to the “no stops” rule – we stopped, consuming average Mexican food and possibly a margarita or two.

There were a few other stops – short breaks for bathroom and awful gas station snacks and coffee, but mostly we just drove. After travelers pass through Amarillo in west Texas, there’s not much left in the state with the exception of long, flat, straight freeway. At this point, it was midnight. Our eyes were blurry, bodies exhausted after a long day at work, then sitting still in the car for so many hours. Crossing the border into New Mexico, we started to consider that we may not make it all the way.

We had booked a little guest house just outside of Santa Fe, but the hosts were not expecting to greet us at the property, so we figured we could skip the first night, and just show up early in the morning, not losing too much time at the house. Once we established that stopping was the best choice, the next decision was where to spend the night. Side of the road in the car? It was an option. We could grab a few hours of restless sleep and continue on. But sleeping in the car sounded painful for adult bodies, and we decided we would check if any hotels were available in the next town. That town happened to be Santa Rosa, just off I-40.

A little less than 100 years ago, Santa Rosa was a roadside community that happened to be located on the new east-west highway system, which went right through the town. That highway was Route 66. The increase in traffic was profitable for Santa Rosa; motels and cafes started popping up all over the place. When John Steinbeck’s epic novel, The Grapes of Wrath was made into a movie, Santa Rosa was the filming location of a memorable train scene – the character played by Henry Fonda watches a freight train steam over the Pecos River railway bridge, into the sunset. The days of crowded motels and cafes are long over; a traveler now is greeted with McDonalds and Love’s Truck Stop as they exit I-40. Crumbling residences and shuttered buildings are a common sight here today.

We pulled off the highway and checked out options. There were a few hotels on the main road and they all looked about the same: not well-taken care of. It didn’t matter, we decided. We just needed a bed to get some sleep for a few hours. How bad could it be? Stopping at the front office of a little motel, we inquired about availability. “Yes,” the attendant answered, and provided further instructions: the first, complete a form. A paper form with a pen, where we filled out name and address. Next, payment for our room would need to be in cash – maybe a red flag to those less exhausted. Fortunately, we had some and handed it over, hoping to find the bed as quickly as possible.

Trading our cash for a key, we went to find our room. It was very dark, and we were very tired. We managed to open the door, despite the fact the lock seemed to dysfunctional and found ourselves in a dimly lit, sparsely furnished and barely cleaned motel room. There was, however, a bed and that’s what we needed. We did our best to block our all logical reactions and thoughts, which involved the room’s history and previous activities that had happened here. Not changing clothes, we arranged ourselves on the bed, staring at a paint-chipped crumbling ceiling and tried not to move at all as we closed our eyes.

Saturday 06 09

You would think the sun rising in the morning would be a welcome sight, but not in this motel room. We woke up a few hours later, attempting to un-see what greeted us. The bedspread was thin, and stained with something that looked like cherry Kool-Aid. Ugh. Brushing teeth without touching anything, we quickly got ready to finish the trip to Santa Fe and hopefully forget how the first part of the failed road trip had ended.

Leaving the room, we guessed we’d luckily picked a quiet night to stay. The doorknob had been replaced for the nth time, with no telling how many late night door kicks had been visited upon it. We were glad we hadn’t stayed the night that happened.

Getting in the car, we took a look at the vehicle occupying the space next to ours. Looks like this might have been here a while. Maybe a long-term resident.

We left the Sun and Sand Motel behind as we headed toward Santa Fe, laughing about the ridiculous accommodations that resulted from a poor choice to drive too far. The motel didn’t survive much longer, evidently. We returned (out of curiosity, not to spend the night) almost nine years later, and unsurprisingly found the Sun and Sand Motel in a state of extreme deterioration, joining the rest of the crumbling and decrepit buildings in the area.

After this night, we wanted to get out of Santa Rosa as quickly as possible, but we also needed coffee if we were going to drive anywhere in a straight line. We stopped at McDonald’s (lack of other options) expecting to receive a quick, easy cup of coffee in exchange for payment. We should have known that would not be the case. It has always been our experience that in New Mexico that efficient service is not exactly a priority. Twenty-five minutes later, we took our coffees, got in the car and – finally – left Santa Rosa.

It’s less than two hours from Santa Rosa to Santa Fe. Could we not have driven that short distance the prior night? Only the experienced traveler understands the dilemma of being so completely exhausted that operating a vehicle one more minute on the road is simply impossible. Better to sleep, even if in a questionable location, than drive a car into a ditch on the side of the road. We made the right choice.

New Mexico is more scenic in the light of day.

As we got closer to the guest house, we were looking forward to a comfortable blood-stain free bed and a working lock on the front door. However, our second lodging option for this weekend also presented a challenge. We arrived to find a group of folks sitting on the patio of a large house, which sat a few yards behind a guest house near the road. They appeared confused as we pulled in. Further conversation revealed they had rented the large house and were occupying that, and yes, there was a guest house that should have been available, but one of the members of their party had been camping out there as it appeared to be empty and the door was unlocked.

We explained we had reserved the place for the previous night as we had expected to arrive in the early hours of Saturday morning. While we considered this, and attempted to get in touch with the owners of the property, the squatter came out of the little guest house and introduced himself. When informed of the situation, he offered to pack up his things and hand over the house to us. So considerate of him, we thought, given he shouldn’t have been there to begin with. What to do…. should we find another hotel? Step inside and plunk our bags down? This whole thing was weird and the idea of staying in a place immediately after the illegal occupant had spent the night there felt a bit like Santa Rosa Part II.

Finding another place at this point would be complicated, given we had a wedding to attend that evening. So a decision was made – the guest house it would be, but not without some negotiation with the owners. We would let them deal with the illegal resident and cleaning while we headed out on a bike ride. That was on our agenda anyway – our bikes were attached to the back of the Spectra and had survived the crazy trip here. This would be our only opportunity to ride during the short weekend.

It turned out to be a beautiful day – clear, blue skies and 80 degrees. This was better than a nap anyway, we told ourselves. The ride took us from the north end of Santa Fe into town, where the streets transition from country dirt to town paved. After a short round of work fixing a flat tire, we decided the antidote to the past 24 hours of weirdness was, of course, alcohol. A local Mexican spot down the hill provided food and beverages, after which we got word that the property was ready. We headed back that way, just intoxicated enough to laugh at this vandalized sign, but not too intoxicated to operate our two-wheeled vehicles.

Opting to remain on the property turned out to be a good decision. We returned from our ride to find this place ready for guests, unpacked our things, and somehow managed to fit in a quick nap before preparing for the wedding.

We headed out around the time the sun was going down. Our margaritas had disappeared and we were ready to replace those. So (of course) there was a quick detour to Santa Fe Brewing, where we found the Chicken Killer Stout, another moderately powerful beer, and some conversation with a one-eyed local man. We made sure the beer garden would be open later, and headed off to ceremony, which was being held in someone’s backyard. Summer at elevations like Santa Fe can be pleasant … or it can be toasty. Today was toasty, wtih about 50 people gathering in the yard dressed in uncomfortable clothes, sweating, and waiting for the wine part of the wedding.

Despite the unexpected wave of late afternoon heat, it was a nice wedding with a perfect backdrop for photos. The neighborhood is Los Cerillos was spread out over many acres of land, with homes set back from the road, each with a large yard, no fences and beautiful views. Wedding attendance duty complete, we headed back to the beer garden, sampling more locally brewed good stuff before returning to the guest house for the night.

Sunday 2012 06 10

As much as our sleep deprived bodies wanted us to remain in bed well after sunrise, that wasn’t an option. We had a long drive ahead of us. Needing fuel for the road, we made breakfast and coffee, taking advantage of the fancy speakers and the patio for some relaxation time before heading out. We had company for the meal. This fat green cicada buzzed around in a tree nearby while we ate our eggs.

One more delay before getting in the car – a quick exploration of the property. Behind the big house, there were trails through desert landscape and a pretty nice view of the surrounding area.

We found some rare color in this land of brown and grey. Then glancing down at the ground, some very aged metal cans. Looks like they’d been around since the 1950s or so. There’s a scene in Mad Men set in this era which depicts the family disposing of their picnic litter into the park as they finished their outing. That’s what we imagined happened here. Flip the blanket up, and watch the trash – cans, wrappers, napkins just roll down the hill. Thanks, Boomers, for ruining the earth with your picnic leftovers and all the other things you did to negatively affect future generations.

Among the prickly brush and rocky terrain, we saw something shiny. Closer inspection revealed this flattened chunk of metal was formerly a vehicle, which appears to have been disintegrating in the New Mexico desert for many years.

Our little exploration put us behind schedule (of course) and we left Santa Fe later than expected. One of us had recently read a book about Kit Carson, so we had to drive through some of his old stomping grounds. This required a minor detour east on I-25 before we headed south to 40. The morning was quickly getting away from us, and we knew it would be a late night if we continued with random stops. Ignoring the ticking clock, we continued to explore. Not a great idea, but …

The problem really wasn’t us – it was New Mexico. How could we not stop at colorful Hispanic graveyards in the middle of nowhere, or at the adobe buildings which were barely standing?

The buildings were the first to capture our attention as we wandered south on NM 3, a windy two-lane road that eventually drops travelers onto boring and featureless I-40.

It’s a different scene from the ghost towns and old buildings we’ve explored closer to home. The adobe indicates longevity; these have been around a while and likely hold stories dating back to the 1700s (?).

In many cases, there’s only a crumbling building left by itself in the red New Mexico dirt. No other structures in sight. One can imagine that at one time this place was surrounded by other businesses, maybe even a town. Now, it’s quiet here. No evidence of civilization in sight.

The cemeteries in this area are something else. Hispanic graveyards always possess a certain unique character, as the deceased are consistently honored, graves always colorfully decorated, surrounded by unique items and materials.

Intricate details indicate quite a bit of care for the long gone loved ones.

When a cover for the virgin Mary is not readily available, an old bathtub will do.

Even in the middle of nowhere – there’s not a town or residential area anywhere near these places, but the graves are all well-taken care of and decorated with new flowers.

By the time we got to I-40, we had used up quite a bit of the day. The afternoon was quickly slipping by, and we still had to get to the end of this state, and halfway through the next.

We captured the rest of our pictures through the window of a speeding vehicle from a passenger cursing the fact that there are only 24 hours in a day.

It was past midnight and early Monday morning when we finally made it back to DFW. Fortunately this late arrival did not involve an impromptu stop at a sketchy hotel. We had completed the entire drive after semi-succcessfully attending Dave and Kristan’s wedding, slept in our own homes, and got up in a few hours to head to work. We didn’t necessarily apply the lessons learned here to future trips …