Twelve Magical Hours in the Land of Enchantment
A letter to the Editor of The Albuquerque Journal:
Naysayers, nowadays, barrage the public with dark words of all that is wrong with America. This can create an attitude we sometimes forget to question.
Stepping away from our routine life to attend a convention in Albuquerque, April 9-11, my husband and I found ourselves seduced by the bright side of much that is right about America. Sunday was my convention-going husband's only free day. By 8:00A.M. we were circling Albuquerque's Old Town Plaza. Spilling out, from the antique church doors, the congregation, in best dress, chatted in small groups, holding Palm Sunday reeds. Rolling down the car window, I asked, "Where's a great breakfast?" "One block over, Little Anita's," came the answer. Christmas style red/green chili sauce laced the huevos rancheros at the suggestion of the waitress. Great advice!
Fortified,
we drove the short distance to Petroglyph National Monument and set our feet,
minds and spirits back across four to seven centuries. Near the city, in a quiet
box canyon, inscribed upon the wind-polished peninsula of basalt were icons
- rocks alive with messages from ancient ancestors. For two hours we mused,
ambled, speculated and soaked up the energy radiated by the black stones and
glyphs gleaming in the early morning light. These rocks chronicle a people also
beset by problems, seeking solutions. Undaunted, they were in for the long haul;
somehow, their distant message, to stay the course, still rings clear.
Late night news, on Saturday, had informed me that Sunday was the last day of the Taos Film Festival and that a Rush Line provided hopefuls, like us, the chance to take in a cutting edge flick. After changing from hiking to street clothes in the park's spotless bathroom, we drove the 120 miles straight to the Taos Convention Center, which transforms itself into an impromptu theater for the festival. Indeed, in this tiny mountain town, we were able to procure two tickets for the world premier of Face to Face, one of the best films we have ever seen. Dealing with the "problem" of lack of communication between fathers and sons today, three grown cousins, drug, hog-tie and kidnap their three fathers in the hope of spending quality time with them. The director, Ellie Kanner, writer, director of photography, and male lead were all present after the screening for Q&A. What a visual treat and more importantly, what an ingenious salve for this common ailment. The film addresses the problem, and then sets out, like the petroglyphs, to outline a cure.
Afterwards,
Ogelvies, on the Taos Plaza, cooked up an order of veggie quesadillas, which
my husband and I shared, to tide us over until supper. Dean Stockwell, the main
character from Face to Face, strolled into Ogelvie's, looking every bit the
part he played in the film, snagged a bar stool and chatted with the long-haired
bar-keep. Elizabeth Taylor was also in town to receive an award. One suspects,
that had she strolled into the bar, the low-keyed life style of Taos would have
given Liz the same space it accorded Dean Stockwell.
A one hour drive to Santa Fe brought us to La Fonda. This inn at the End of the Santa Fe Trail ranks, in our estimation, as the most beautiful dining room in the world. New Mexico's spicy food permeates ones entire body -tickling follicles, fingertips and toes. Once again, the history of the place, founded in 1610, reminded us of the continuity of our country's fascinating heritage. As we dined, we could tell from the skylights above our table that the sun had set. After a memorable dinner, a brief spin around Santa Fe's night-lit plaza, gave us glimpses into shops of Native American jewelry, weaving, and basketry. Artworks, seen through spic-and-span clean gallery windows, appeared like bright jewels, reflecting images both ancient and contemporary.
An enormous,
buttermilk-colored moon followed us back on the drive to Albuquerque. It backlit
the profile of the Sandia mountainscape. Finally, after 12 hours, we unlocked
our hotel room- regenerated, restored and "attitudinally" adjusted. Over the
next three days I put 1007 miles on the rent car, crossing and re-crossing the
asphalt ribbons New Mexico calls scenic byways: Rt. 518 from Las Vegas (New
Mexico) across the Sangre de Christo mountains dropping down into Taos, Rt.14
to Sandia Crest and down the Turquoise Trail, Rt.16 to Cochiti Lake and Pueblo.
New Mexico spins a spell of enchantment, I'm not sure how. But, like a magician's
top hat and rabbit, I now recognize some of the props: ristras, placed in such
a way as to catch the long rays of afternoon light, pepper tips glowing like
rubies; the rakish angle of rusty New Mexico license plates on battered old
lollypop-colored trucks; and most of all the smiles of its peoples, young and
old, who seemingly manage to stay rooted in the beauty of their landscape, an
unparalleled appreciation of the arts, and rich cultural traditions of their
state's heritage --doing life. Thank you for sharing!
When the snow melts and the parks open, we'll be back for more magic. Muy caliente, New Mexico, muy, muy caliente!
- Elizabeth Rassiga, The Outdoor Neophyte