27 posts tagged “travel”
On one of our other days in Northern New Mexico, we left Santa Fe with our friends and traveled about an hour to Bandelier National Monument, which is just outside of the town of Los Alamos.
Bandelier sits in the Frijoles Canyon and is the site of cliff dwellings from ancestral pueblo peoples that lived in the area for about 400 years – from about 1150 AD to 1550 AD. It is known that they moved down to the Rio Grande valley because of a prolonged drought that made living in the high, desert plateaus untenable.
The drive is beautiful and the canyon is breathtaking. The park has several places where the remnants of puebloan society can be seen. There is a large semi-circular construct that at one time was a large, multi-level communal site. It enclosed a natural amphitheater that was sort of the crossroads for the whole group.
We ran into a ranger (who have the best jobs ever) who described the agriculture of the Indians that lived there. They made connected, slightly raised beds – that were known as waffles, in which they grew corn and other crops. We also found out that in addition to Waffle Farming, they were also Turkey Herders – and anyone that knows me, knows how serious I am about my turkey. Also, the emblem for the park consists of a pair of “talking turkeys” and a sun petroglyph.
Speaking of petroglyphs, you can hike a trail up to where there are a number of cliff dwelling remains that have a number of inscriptions in the stone.
There are even a couple that you can climb up into. My friend Dave (and old college roommate) figured out that the cliff dwelling rooms were about the size of our old college dorm.
If you’re in good cardiac health and not afraid of heights or ladders, you can even climb to the highest large dwelling, the Alcove House – which was several hundred feet above the canyon floor. You could access it by climbing several ladders – some of which were quite long. The top contained a large open area and ceremonial kiva.
One of the things that I think I like most about New Mexico is that for the most part, no one lives there (45th among US states in population density). Coming from Southern California and having been born and raised in New Jersey (#1 in pop density), crowded spaces are pretty well known to me.
But there is something undeniably wonderful about an open horizon and more-or-less unspoiled wilderness – and the high deserts of northern New Mexico offer that in abundance – plus some great geology in which to poke around.
On one of our days in New Mexico, we took a trip to Abiquiu – a tiny fork in the road about 50 miles northwest of Santa Fe. Abiquiu is probably most noted for being the long-time home of American artist Georgia O’Keefe. The drive along the Rio Grande (yes, that Rio Grande) and especially the Chama River valley are spectacular.
One of the cooler (and easily accessible) geologic attractions is the Echo Amphitheater which is about 15 miles further up the road from Abiquiu – this partially hollowed out sandstone cliff is very dramatic and there is a short trail which takes you right to the base of the cliff.
All-in-all, throw in a stop for crispy chicken tacos at a tiny out-of-the-way place and you have the makings for a great day out in the open.
Whenever we’d talk to people over the last couple of years about New Mexico, we’d invariably say, “I can’t believe we haven’t been back”.
The been-back refers to the fact that before we moved into The Aerie, the Beloved lived in Santa Fe, New Mexico for 3+ years. In fact, it was the place where our relationship started and blossomed. In some ways, we’re a testament to long-distance relationships and the power of Southwest Airlines’ convenient and efficient schedules.
We like to get away. We like to give one another little secret weekends. And yet, we hadn’t gone back to New Mexico. And I wonder why. Maybe it just wasn’t time yet. You see – for as much as we enjoyed spending time in The Land of Enchantment, it was always somewhat bittersweet. We were living apart – and so it was always hard to fully enthusiastically embrace our times there. It was and is a fantastic place, but we always resented it a little.
So, this year, we took the opportunity to meet some friends in Santa Fe for the weekend. They had never been there and we thought it was a great reason to go. As the days came closer, I think we realized that we were excited – to return together. Santa Fe and northern New Mexico looked wonderful in all its autumnal glory and we enjoyed seeing some of our old haunts, going to the farmer's market, and eating at some of our favorite restaurants.
But my favorite time had to be when we were done for the evening, the Beloved and I would stroll home through the crisp, chilly, mostly silent streets. Hand-in-hand, we’d review the day’s events and tomorrow’s plan. And even when that plan was to leave, there was no sense of bitter-sweetness, because we were leaving together.
Now, of course, we can't wait to go back!
For months leading up, the Beloved would ask me, “What are your family traditions for being at the beach?” And I would tell her that we had zero experience with spending a week together at the beach as a family (PLENTY of experience with day-trips) but very little in extended stays. In some ways, we were going to have to establish our own.
We got to the East Coast with very little problem in which we stocked up for supplies and had a birthday dinner for me at my favorite cheesesteak place in NJ and took a leisurely drive on Saturday to Sea Isle City, where we convened with my brother, his family and my sister to begin Down The Shore—2009.
I hadn’t been to Sea Isle probably since I was 17 and I thought it looked great. Our house was a stone’s throw from the beach and really comfortable – and it’s clock set the correct tone for the vacation.
Our days were pretty easy… we’d all trundle out of bed for a slow wake-up with coffee, cereal and the paper. By 10 or so, the first wave of folks would head down to the beach. I would tend to stay back on the deck under the umbrella, choosing not to expose my pale, SPF70 slathered skin to the sun and surf until after 2 pm. We’d hang on the beach, watch the waves, seagulls and people, go for a swim and head back for happy hour and dinner. (As you might have guessed, I was in charge of happy hour… ). It was all very civilized. We ate out a couple of nights, walked the promendade, played games. It was great.
One day, the fam went up to Atlantic City to see an airshow – and while I love my family dearly, standing out in the sun for 5+ hours was not a choice I was willing to make. As an alternative, the Beloved and I took a tour of the other southern shore towns – Avalon, Stone Harbor, Wildwood and Cape May. It was a great trip and highlighted how different each of the towns were.
One of the reasons for the trip was so that the Beloved could see Wildwood – probably the last remnant of “tacky boardwalk” left in The Garden State. I’d last been there after graduating high school – some friends and I rented a house for a week. There were still lots of crappy t-shirt shops and amusement piers and tram cars.
At last, the week was at an end (how quickly it goes by) and we all bought souvenir shirts and gathered on the slightly-Bill-touched beach to say our farewells.
We all thought we would do it again – perhaps a new tradition in the making!
So, while we were traveling to and from the east coast for the surprise party for my brother and sister-in-law, each of the four planes we flew on was full. Actually, each of the four planes we flew on was late because of mechanical failure, which doesn’t make me feel very good about the state of United Airlines’ fleet.
Call me unlucky, but on each leg of my journey, as soon as they were able, the person in front of me reclined their seat all the way back as far as it could go for the duration of the flight. The Beloved was spared this on one flight because the person in front of her’s seat was broken. How do I know? Because she wrestled with it for several minutes and then called a flight attendant over to wrestle with it for a few more and then demanded some sort of “inconvenience compensation form” because she’d been forced to sit up straight for a few hours.
With the decrease in legroom apparent on just about every flight I’ve been on recently, putting the seat back essentially means that the person behind you had no room to move or work or read. Because of this (and thinking about The Golden Rule), I never put my seat back. Also, I think that 12 years of Catholic education taught me how to sit up straight for a couple of hours.
What about you? Seat back? Seat straight? Should I just let it go?
On Saturday, we got on the PCH (CA-1) and started driving south. We were a little chagrined to find that the town of Cambria (our destination) was only 100 miles away, thinking – wow, what are we going to do all day? It actually turned out to be a real blessing – as we used it as an opportunity to stop and admire views and pull off into state parks and go for 30-60 minutes hikes.
We stopped and did a nice hike to the beach at Andrew Molera State Park. The scenery along Big Sur is drop-dead gorgeous (now I know why all those car commercials are filmed there) and it was fun to have my car on the twisty-turny roads. We stopped at a beautiful little restaurant for a light lunch.
One of the highlights was stopping at Julia Pfeiffer Burns SP which had a few short trails that lead to a cliff over an isolated beach (it’s amazing to think of how inaccessible some of these places are), complete with turquoise waters and its own waterfall. Truly spectacular.
You could walk along a roped off path and at some points get to within 30 feet or so. Awesome -- totally unexpected. The seals made a cacophony of gurgling, belching and harrumphing which I worked hard at duplicating – I think the Beloved found it cute, except when we were out at dinner later.
This weekend we took a little road trip to Monterey. Actually, I should refine that. I took a road trip on Thursday to meet The Beloved who was already in Monterey on business. The idea was that I would drive up alone and then we would come back together.
The Drive. I got out of town around 9 a.m. and listened to the audiobook of "Three Bags Full: A Sheep Detective Story", which is pretty much what it sounds like. It was a really good choice -- fun story, slightly snarky, clever enough to keep you interested, not so thoughtful and consuming as to make me drive into oncoming traffic. I made good time and was at our hotel by 4:30. We both wanted to stretch our legs and we walked for about 90 minutes along the bay, stopping at Cannery Row (which is all tourist shops now, no sardines to be found) and walking back through town looking for a place to eat. We had some tasty Italian and retired.
The Aquarium. Friday, we hoofed it back to the Monterey Bay Aquarium and spent a good half day there. Several really good exhibits. Sea otters, which of course The Beloved thought were super cute and the backlit jellyfish, which I thought were awesome.
There was a special exhibit on the Secret Lives of Sea Horses – which did not really seem all that secret, but was very cool nonetheless – the sea dragons (related to sea horses) were remarkable. There was also a great shorebird (all rescues) exhibit.
The aquarium also had a number of interactive exhibits which were fun though I felt pretty bad pushing toddlers out of the way to get to pet a starfish (but it was totally worth it). I, of course, felt the need to walk around and exclaim, “I’ve GOT to save those whales!” but, alas, all I got were odd looks – 1986 was a long time ago apparently.
Out and About. After the aquarium, we drove along the point, through Pacific Grove and to Carmel-by-the-Sea. For you San Diegans, Carmel is like Del Mar, only bigger and with more money. We had a fantastic late lunch (enough so that it became an early dinner) at a little French place and walked down to the beach – which really is a jewel (I left my camera in the car).
Afterwards, we drove back and stopped and played in the tide pools at Asilomar St Beach near Pacific Grove as the sun set.
The Beloved had a couple of business events this week that took her to the Bay Area and so we decided to capitalize on that by extending her trip with a visit to Monterrey and Big Sur. I'm going to drive up today solo and we’ll drive back together on Sunday.
It’s 432 miles to Monterrey. I got a full tank of gas and I’m wearing sunglasses.* Hit it.
*I am eschewing the half-pack of cigarettes for some Kashi bars and water. It is also not dark.
It was a great hike -- the trail gave way to a foot-wide path between rocks and cacti about a mile in, and that gave way to nothing but boulders, cacti and scrub that became an exercise in choosing the path that seemed to have the smallest chance of a precipitous fall, twisted ankle or embedded cholla.