Art of a different kind in Albuquerque

Hanging out with some of my favorite folks in Albuquerque. We went around town to see murals and graffiti. This town is festooned with colorful walls.

 

So that’s what this post is about… these things:

Santa Fe

I pull into Santa Fe and the dog is antsy. He’s been in the truck while I was hiking Bandelier, he needs out. So I park in the first free parking area I find and start following the signs of downtown Santa Fe to the ‘historic plaza.’

 

There is a pretty church:

 

There is a capitol building:

 

And another church:

 

This church has some great sculptures near it:

 

I meander around the historic section for a while, and am impressed by the high volume of art in the area.

Heck, even the building entrances are more artistic here:

 

And there were artists, selling their goods on the plaza:

 

So we meandered around for around two hours before going to find a coffee shop where I could sit for a while, edit photos, and just be off my feet.

 

Then it was a night spent in the ‘big box’ section of town where are all huge stores are. Woke up, went for another small walk downtown, then headed out. It was time to meet up with my friends in Albuquerque again.

Bandelier

I drive down to Bendelier National Monument, not really sure what I am looking for. It’s just a big green spot on the map. I stop for a workout on my way down there, I pull a weird muscle in my leg in the process. I show up to the park tired, sore, and walking funky. A sure recipe for success.

 

I talk to the rangers, they tell me about the ancient indians who lived here, and recommend that I go do the ‘main loop’ trail. So I do.

 

What I see is some old indian housing:

 

 

 

And while this is all cool, old human things really don’t do much for me. To boot, after the 1.2 mile loop, I was still in a mood for hiking. So I took the ‘falls trail’ down the creek. A 5 mile round trip form the visitor center down to the Rio Grande. It was awesome.

 

Hiking through layers of dirt:

 

 

And vegetation that makes you forget you are at 7000 ft elevation:

 

The falls were pretty too:

 

The rio was the rio. No pictures taken. Instead I soaked up the sun on the hike back out, ate some leftover quinoa, and headed out towards Santa Fe.

Taos… I’ve been here before.

The last time I was here it was a barely even a stop. Just long enough to edit photos, take the dog for a ten minute walk, and pass out. This time was only slightly longer.

I had wanted to spend some more time here, as it seemed like a pretty interesting town on that brief encounter a couple months before. So this time I showed up around mid-day after driving down from Durango. Along the way I saw some interesting graffiti:

 

And I also saw the 1966 ‘most beautiful steel bridge’ over a ‘long span’:

 

Which is the bridge that goes over the Rio Grande gorge, which is very pretty:

 

And then I was in Taos. I parked the truck and took the dog for a walk. I quickly realized the whole town seems based on art galleries and artists studios. Everywhere, that is what you see. Not really my cup of tea. I did catch some of my style of art though, on the back side of a park:

 

And everywhere we went there were these yellow flags, almost as often as you see the Texas flag while driving through the lone star state:

 

 

There were some pretty trees:

 

And some pretty buildings:

 

But overall, it wasn’t what had thought I was getting. I’m not really sure what my expectations were, but something… more. Maybe I should have gone to the Pueblo, and paid up to see the indian community center. Maybe I should have walked down more alleys. Maybe. Either way, I decided not to stay a second day. Upon waking, we headed south along the high road, heading to Bandelier National Monument.

Durango, Co

After the lovely drive through the Red Mountain pass, I arrived in Durango. I went to the coffee shop where my cousin James works, and hung out for a while until he got done with his shift. We went to his house, hung out for a while, then went out to an awesome fish and chips dinner at the local irish restaurant.

 

Here is James:

 

We checked out a local brewery (Durango Brewing Company) whose dark lager was quite inspiring, especially for a guy who doesn’t like malty beers like me. After some interesting conversation with a local drunk at the brewery we headed back to his house and just hung out, getting to know each other, watching movies, etc.

 

The next day I had a few hours to putz around by myself, so I walked around Durango downtown and snapped some pictures. Like a local artist hangout:

 

There is all sorts of art in this town. Like this mural on another building:

 

And of course, I meandered through the local alleys. Catching a few random shots there as well:

 

I took a drive up to the ‘rim’ near the local college campus, to get a look at the city from above. So, if you’ve ever wondered what Durango looks like, here it is:

 

When James got off of work this time we took the dog to the dog park, met up at another local brewery (Carver’s) with his friend Greg for dinner and a pint. A delicious burger and more tasty brew before heading home again. A few movies, some entertaining conversation, and then passing out. Repeat for my third day in town, except for a nice walk along the Animas river next to the narrow gauge railroad:

 

And me making chicken parm for dinner instead of eating out. A bit o’ whisky substituted for beer and a late night of laughing at silly movies.

 

Morning time rolled around, James made a great breakfast, then it was on the road for me again. I was off to Taos.

Then to Telluride

From Arches I took scenic Highway 128 along the Colorado river canyon. It’s cold enough up here that the river is frozen a few inches thick throughout huge sections of the drive:

 

I drive through snow storms until I get to Grand Junction, Colorado. My stop for the night. Up early and down some more scenic highways to meet up with my buddy Fletcher. I met up with his brother a few months ago, and it’s finally time to see Fletch. I arrive and we grab lunch at some great sandwich shop, chowing down on a bench on main street. I meet his awesome girlfriend Kathy and we head back to his house. We drink, we make food, we chat with friends and family who come over.

 

Here’s Fletcher:

 

We head out at 9:30pm, hiking up a ski run by full moonlight. I’m going skiing for the first time in my life. It’s a gorgeous hike, as the trees are silhouetted against the bright sky, clouds rushing by on their way to some far more important destination. We reach our own destination after about two hours of hiking, and I strap my skis on for the first time. I fall down before even getting the second foot situated. Get up, try again, get the second ski on, fall over again.

 

I move at a snail’s pace, trying to figure out what these people are trying to get me to understand. It’s English, but for some reason it just doesn’t translate to anything I can use. “Lean on that inside edge to stop, feel the balance as the skis go flat,” these things simply do not click in my brain. The most useful bit of advice I get is ‘if you are going to crash, crash into the snow bank, not the trees.’ And so that is exactly what I do down almost the entire hill. I keep trying to figure out how to lean on an edge, how to balance. Things seem to be easy when you go fast. Easy, at least, to stay upright. I get the movement while I’m moving, it’s just the slowing down and stopping that are beyond me. Crash into a snow bank. Do a weird crawl back to backed snow, push myself up, speed down the hill a few yards, crash into another snow bank.

 

Fletcher and Kathy hang out right by my side the whole way down, trying to coach me through it, and I love them for it. Frustration kicks in as my body starts to hurt from all the crashing and falling. I’m laughing though, this is good, this is fun. A good frustration.

 

We finally get back to the car and I am completely exhausted, it’s 12:30am. Sleep. The next day I work out while Fletcher handles some work stuff, I take a hike around the cute town, with scenery like this:

 

Fletcher tells me there is a waterfall at the end of the main road, so I walk for a mile or two up the way, and see this in the distance:

 

I get back and we go out for sushi, then back home for some games and relaxation. We wake up and it’s time to head out. I say my goodbyes to these two great folks.

 

They recommend I take 550 south to Durango, it goes through the San Juan mountain range, and so I do. The snowy mountain pass is gorgeous, it looks like what I imagine the swiss alps are like, huge mountains looming white-covered and quiet:

 

By the time I reach Durango I am ready to edit photos, and hang out in a coffee shop until my cousin James gets off of work.