On the Road in Albuquerque
by John Gorton

DAY ONE

Lulled to relaxation by perfect blue skies, temperatures in the 80s, and unbelievable views of open, endless mesa, my wife and I drove from Phoenix across eastern Arizona and western New Mexico on I-40. By late afternoon, we approached Albuquerque. The Sandia Mountains provide a majestic eastern backdrop for the city. While lower in elevation than Santa Fe or Taos, Albuquerque remains 5,000 feet above sea level. During the first week of May, temperatures during the day were mostly in the 60s. A generous amount of snowfall remained settled into the higher ridges and peaks of the Sandias. Ominous dark clouds clung to the mountain range in sharp contrast to the unmarred skies over the mesa just west of the city.

We checked into a downtown hotel and headed out to explore. Albuquerque is not a walker's paradise. The city's attractions are spread out over a wide area, and a car is definitely recommended. But since my wife and I love to walk, and we had already spent the entire day in the car, we were determined to get some exercise. The Hyatt Hotel, which is twenty-some stories, dominates Albuquerque's downtown skyline, in addition to a few other 10- to 15-story buildings. And, there sits another large plaza across from the Hyatt. Later in the week, Cinco de Maya festivities were going to kick off. However, on Friday evening, Dos de Maya, the plaza was vacant and silent.

Eventually, we wandered a few blocks over to Central Avenue, Old Highway 66, where things looked to be picking up. At Brewster's Pub, a rock band played to an enthusiastic crowd. The drink of choice was Budweiser, and a wide range of ages were nestled around the room - from early 20s to late 40s. Central Avenue is sprinkled with entertainment choices including a comedy shoppe, sports bar, restaurant and musical theater. A blues festival was scheduled for the following week. We danced at Brewster's and left shortly after midnight, pleasantly surprised with our first impressions of Albuquerque and looking forward to our weekend.


DAY 2

My wife had a business meeting, so I headed out on my own. Quickly making my way back to Central Avenue, I walked about a mile down this busy thoroughfare, passing tree-lined parks, small businesses, inexpensive motels and the Route 66 Hostel.

I was looking for a New Mexican breakfast. And a little further on Central Avenue, I spotted Garcia's Restaurant. I wasn't disappointed. A Spanish weekly newspaper was available at the door. About half of the customers held conversations in espanol. And the menu was divided into regular menu choices and the "gringos" section for those interested in tamer fare. I confidently ordered huevos rancheros, Garcia-style. The Hispanic waitress replied something like, "Hodjalieggs?"

"Pardon," I replied. "Could you repeat that?" On the third try, I understood. "How would you like your eggs?" she asked. "Over easy, please," I requested. "Green chiles or red," she asked. "Green," I guessed. "Where are you from?" she asked with a smile, "You have a strange accent." "Wisconsin," I answered, hanging my head, like the gringo that I was.

Service was fast, and the delicious spicy food, along with the good coffee, perked my spirits. The eggs were smothered with green chili sauce, which provided heat but not fire. Crispy fried potatoes and soupy refried beans complimented the eggs. I cleaned up my plate with soft, fresh tortillas.

As I paid my bill, I noticed a sketch on the back wall: the Statute of Liberty wearing a colorful New Mexican blanket. In a nearby booth, a blond Caucasian male relaxed with his arm comfortably around the shoulder of his Hispanic friend. English and Spanish conversations hung in the air, and the words, peoples and cultures, old and new, seemed to meet, partially merging and partially remaining separate. I was glad I found Garcia's and left satisfied in body and soul.

That afternoon, I toured Old Town Albuquerque. The centerpiece of this tourist area is the Santa Felipe de Neri Church on the North Plaza. The church was first built in 1706. That structure disintegrated, and the present church was rebuilt in 1793 and has been in continuous use ever since. Confederate soldiers are buried in the center of the plaza, and small Civil War artillery guard the east side of the Plaza. In front of La Placita Restaurant, sidewalk vendors spread blankets on the ground and sell jewelry.

Just south of the plaza is a Rattlesnake Museum that boasts the largest display of rattlesnakes in the world - more than the San Diego and Bronx Zoos combined. Before heading back to the hotel, I dined at La Hacienda Restaurant, eating Carnita Asada (grilled pork tenderloin). Like my breakfast eggs, this meal was smothered in green chilies and served with fried potatoes. It was delicious. Since I was in no hurry, I lingered on the outdoor patio at the restaurant, sipping a fine margarita and watching the dark clouds drift towards the city from the Sandia Mountains.

Shortly after leaving the restaurant, I was caught by a cloudburst and ducked into the free Albuquerque Museum, situated a couple blocks east of Old Town. In addition to having a fine display of art and relics, the museum was hosting a rehearsal for Cinco de Mayo. I sat down in the auditorium and listened to "Una Poloma Blanca," performed with strong voices and a half dozen guitars. Ages of the band members ranged from 16 to 60. Before the next song was over, the cloudburst had ended, and I was headed back outdoors beneath partly sunny New Mexican skies.


DAY THREE

After a day of walking in Albuquerque, we decided to drive to some of the attractions surrounding the city. Bandelier National Monument is located a short distance away (as the crow flies). Driving on either winding mountain roads or taking the circuitous interstate route, Bandelier is about a 1-2 hour drive. I would recommend investing the time to see it. We spent several hours at Bandelier. When I left, I was already planning when I could come back for a week's backpacking trip.

The primary attraction at Bandelier is the cliff dwelling town where Puebloan ancestors lived for nearly 500 years. The 1.4-mile partly wheelchair-accessible trail is relatively flat and easy. The real fun comes in climbing up the short ladders to the cliff dwellings themselves and poking your head into the small holes leading to where the Indians lived from the 11th to the 16th century. We were there at the same time as several busloads of junior high school kids on their year-end field trip. The kids were having a blast, and it was entertaining just to watch their faces light up as they imagined what it was like to live inside the dark holes.

For the more adventurous and physically fit, the trail extends another half mile to the Indian Ceremonial Cave. Here, we climbed straight up the cliff via a series of steep ladders - 140 vertical feet. The view from the large half-domed Ceremonial Cave was spectacular and looked out over the gorge and a bubbling creek. Inside the cave itself was a kiva, where religious ceremonies took place. After climbing up to the cave, we climbed down a steep ladder through a hole in the floor of the cave into the kiva and tried to imagine being a member of the pueblo during a simpler time of human existence. On the drive home, I realized that the people who lived at Bandelier built a culture that lasted twice as long as the United States ( to date).

That evening, we planned to test some this-day-in-age technology at the world's largest tram. The Sandia Peak Ski Area is on the northeast edge of Albuquerque. All afternoon, we watched as the clouds moved across the Sandia mountains. Natives warned us that the tram shuts down during windy, stormy weather. Just before leaving, we telephoned to verify that it was still operational. I asked what happens if the storm hits after we get to the top of the mountain. The Sandia employee replied that there is a 40-mile trail that winds back to the bottom. "That was a joke," he said. "There's a road that goes up close to the top, and you can take a vehicle down."

The temperature dropped significantly as we climbed in elevation from downtown Albuquerque to the base of the tram. I was chilly in a windbreaker. The tram was busy that evening; a number of high school kids were going up to the restaurant on top of the mountain for a pre-prom dinner. As the tram started up the mountain, I looked back at the panoramic view of the city. You could see for what looked like a hundred miles. Looking back up the mountain again, dark clouds were moving in fast. And then we were in the clouds. Visibility was nil. Every once in awhile, we saw lightning flash.

One of the high school girls shrieked, "It's supposed to be the most romantic night of my life, and I'm going to die!" I tried not to laugh, admitting to my wife that my stomach was feeling a little nervous. About two-thirds of the way up the mountain, sleet began to fall. A short time later, it was snowing hard. When the doors to the tram opened at the top of the mountain, a blast of cold air greeted us. A thermometer next to the operator's station disclosed the temperature: 18 degrees on May 3rd.

Several people saw that there was no view on top, and ran quickly to the other side of the tram station so that they could take the same tram back down before it left. We figured that we might as well stay until the next tram. A tram employee said, "You should have been here an hour ago," and grinned. After watching Wheel of Fortune for fifteen minutes on the small television inside the tram station on the mountaintop, we headed back down on the next tram. Miraculously, about halfway down the mountain, the skies opened up again, and the sun began to shine. Behind us, there was still an angry late spring storm on the mountaintop; in front of us, there was the beautiful city of Albuquerque and miles of wide open mesa stretching off to the west.