On the road to Taos

On our second day in Santa Fe, we hit the High Road to Taos and stopped in the picturesque little village of Chimayo in a beautiful green valley. At the historic Potrero Trading post I bought ground red New Mexican chile and a most delicious bar of locally made chocolate. Nearby is the famous El Santuario de Chimayo, known for the healing powers of its sacred red dirt.

Here I am at a scenic lookout with the Jemez Mountains in the background. I remember backpacking in those mountains when I was in my 20s!

There was a lot of road construction in Taos, so we skipped wandering through town and instead had lunch and then stepped back in time to Taos Pueblo, which has been continuously inhabited for more than 1,000 years. I felt a little bit like I was intruding, but we paid for a tour and our guide was most gracious. A lot of Pueblo artists had turned homes into art galleries where they sold beautiful pottery, paintings ... and t-shirts.

The buildings are made from adobe -- earth mixed with straw and water -- and are continuously maintained. Walls are often several feet thick for insulation. Roofs are held up with massive timbers hauled down from the mountains.

Most Pueblo members live in conventional homes, but about 150 still live on the grounds full time in the ancient way, with no electricity or running water. (Including our guide's grandfather.)

They get their water from Red Willow Creek, which runs through the grounds. While we were there, several young men were pulling up plants that had grown in the water. Our guide, a nursing student, said they regularly cleaned the creek in this way.

The beehive shaped adobe hornos scattered throughout the pueblo are used for baking. As we walked to our car in town later, we passed a woman selling items baked in a horno and bought some prune hand pies, which she said are often eaten for breakfast, and biscochitos (a type of New Mexican Christmas cookie that's sweet, crisp, and spiced with cinnamon and anise). The cookies had a heavier texture than traditional biscochitos. I didn't try the prune pie.

Dogs roamed freely and lazily in the village and everyone was friendly. It was quiet and peaceful -- and hot! I welcomed the shade of this shelter.

On our way back to Santa Fe we took the "low road" and crossed the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge, 650 above the river. We parked and some of us walked out onto the bridge for a dizzying view. Then it was back to collapse at our beautiful rental house and gaze out at the hills. And that wraps up my posts about this amazing trip to Northern New Mexico with five fun women.

Have a colorful day