Silver City Episode

Brick and Stone: Architecture and Preservation

I’m posting this as a place holder as much as anything else so I can remember to go back to Silver City, New Mexico. Two weekends ago I was in Silver City with my daughter on a two-day trip down to see the Gila Cliff Dwellings. It is about a five hour drive to Silver City so we spent most of the day in the car heading south on I-25 and then west over Highway 152.

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The interstate part of the trip is what it is…interstate. We stopped in Truth or Consequences for lunch at the  little Grapevine Bistro on Broadway. I don’t recall exactly what I had but it had Prickly Pear Jelly on it and it was good. I never had Prickley Pear Jelly before so that was a new treat. They make the stuff in TorC. This is sort of a health food cafe and I…

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Ghost Birds

Here they come again…heading north. This morning’s flight was the first group I’ve seen…actually heard because they are so high you can’t really make them out. Their croaking call seems to come from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. They seem early but we are already into the 70s each day. They must leave Bosque del Apache at dawn and make it here north of Albuquerque by 10:30. They might make it to Colorado by sunset if they can get over the mountains..

Writer's Cramp

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Cranes, lost to our sight

in the sun drenched sky above,

call out sad farewells.

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They’ll be back next fall

to do it all once again.

The bosque awaits.

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Driving Miss Mary [Colter]– Part Two

Brick and Stone: Architecture and Preservation

PART TWO — On to Grand Canyon

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I was enjoying Flagstaff and especially the local brewpubs. I wasn’t thinking about architecture or Mary Colter. As a home brewer I’m always interested in what the local craft brewing scene has to offer….but that’s a different blog altogether…now, back on topic.

I left Flagstaff for a two-day excursion up to Grand Canyon National Park. I’ve been there a few times but never in the winter. I decided to follow a route my dad drove some 40+ years ago the first time I was there. My dad always thought that if you couldn’t see something from the car window it wasn’t worth seeing. He liked the comfort and control of sitting in the driver’s seat and he was the only driver. I’m not joking when I say we did a driving tour of Williamsburg…where cars are not allowed.  There were there were all sorts…

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Driving Miss Mary [Colter]— Part One

Brick and Stone: Architecture and Preservation

Not being otherwise occupied, I have fallen into the habit of taking a week or ten days in the winter and going on a road trip. This is usually between Thanksgiving and Christmas so I guess this is actually late fall but it usually feels like winter. This year I decided to take a week or so and go to Flagstaff, Arizona, making stops along the way or side trips that present themselves. Road trips in the winter are sometimes an adventure, depending on the weather. If conditions turn bad and I run headlong into a blizzard I might find myself spending the day in a truck stop with fifty or sixty truck drivers, a stranded Baptist Church choir or a busload of Chinese tourists. The possibilities are endless. The weather seemed reasonable on this trip…seasonal but not too bad. There was a chance of snow but temperatures were up into the 30s…

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In Praise of Old Hotels — Gallup, NM

Posted on Brick and Stone —

Brick and Stone: Architecture and Preservation

El Rancho Hotel – Gallup, NM

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During my late December trip to Flagstaff I was looking forward to stopping at the El Rancho Hotel in Gallup, New Mexico, on the way home. I had heard stories about the place. It was a “must see” according to people who had been there. My curiosity was caught up in the anticipation of a classic old hotel. On my way west I spent a night in the La Posada Hotel in Winslow, Arizona, and at Bright Angel Lodge at the Grand Canyon. Both of those places were part of the Harvey Hotel operation and were associated with the Santa Fe Railway.

The El Rancho and the La Posada were often inhabited by movie stars when they were working in the area shooting old western films. My expectations were influenced by my stay at the La Posada and at Bright Angel Lodge. That was unfair…

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The End of Summer – New Mexico

We only have a few days of summer left. Fall officially starts on September 23. Can flu season be far behind?  They are already playing football. Baseball is in the late season frenzy.  I thought I’d reminisce a little about summer here in our neck of the woods. (OK– you have to look closely for the woods but it’s there.)

Summer here in the Rio Grande valley is most often viewed as monsoon season and I’ve already written about that a while back  Thanks to El Nino we have had quite a bit of rain. I’ve never seen the desert so green. The rain comes and goes and usually lasts maybe a half hour. Sometimes it goes crazy…like when it washed out the railroad bridge and stopped the RailRunner for a weekend.  Flash floods are dangerous — there have been a lot of them lately and some fatalities. We have had some serious forest fires during our recent drought and heavy rain after a forest fire is devastating.  I found a video of a flood destroying Dixon’s Orchard following a forest fire up in the Jemez Mountains…this is from 2011.

I didn’t have to contend with a flash flood. My only problem was the rain-out of an Isotopes minor league baseball game. I was pretty lucky, I guess.   I got a rain check and was able to see a game on a dryer day. We still lost.  The Isotopes did not have a good season this year and attendance was down due to the many rain-outs.

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We still have the best green chile race in all of baseball.

I am sometimes critical of Albuquerque’s city administration and the way they do things but I must say that they seem to know how to put on a street festival. The city had four Summerfests scheduled around town and I made it to two of them…Route 66 on Central Avenue and the Westside on Ellison. The crowds were quite large and well behaved. There was good food and good music. I took a bunch of pictures but I missed having my camera ready when the topless women paraded down Central Avenue…dang.

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Labor Day weekend snuck up on us pretty quick. For the past 27 years the city of Bernalillo has hosted the New Mexico State Wine Festival and it has been pretty popular. It’s not just about wine…there are crafts and lots of food and music. I went last year and enjoyed it — so you can imagine my surprise and disappointment when they announced that they would no longer be holding the annual wine festival.  Accounts vary but it seems that attendance has been dropping and there are other wine festivals in the area. Isleta Casino picked it up and hosted an indoor wine and jazz festival — which I went to. It was very nice but I like outdoor events if the weather is good.  I did buy some wine and tasted my share.

Meanwhile, Bernalillo decided to replace the wine festival with the Mountain West Brew Fest…going from wine to craft beer. I was skeptical — we have a lot of craft beer festivals all year long. Almost every other weekend you can find a beer festival somewhere nearby. I didn’t quite know how this was going to turn out….but it was great. Unlike some places, Bernalillo is very laid back and has a very casual vibe and that set the tone for the Mountain West Beer Festival. I really didn’t know we had so many breweries. I admit that I’ve not been able to keep up with the two or more that open each month…Albuquerque is awash with craft beer. This was a chance to get a taste from over thirty local breweries and a bunch from out of state. Now, I’m a home brewer and I know something about making good beer. I have a medal and a trophy to prove it. I did not have a bad beer during the many tasting booths that I stopped at. I had some that were not to my liking…style-wise…but they were still good at what they were trying to do. Of course I took some pictures…  It was another beautiful day.

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The Monks at Christ in the Desert monastery have been very busy

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Nothing wrong with the camera — friend Stu was getting blurry

The Monks at Christ in the Desert are the makers of a line of beer called Monks’ Ales. They are in a pretty isolated place up on the Chama River so some of the actual brewing has been contracted out closer to town but they are very much involved. They have been propagating and growing native Neomexicanus hops.  New Mexico has it’s own variety of wild hops and the monks are pretty much it as far as acquiring any…unless you want to scour the mountains on your own looking for hops…which people do.  I finally got to taste a beer made with Neomexicanus hops and I have to say that I liked it but it was a little unique….mostly in the lingering finish.  These are not bittering hops — they have low acid levels, I think — so they are finishing hops, I think.  I also think that there is a lot of mythology out there on these wild hops because not many people have any experience with them.  I’d like to get my hands on some but the monks are pretty stingy.

By now you might have the impression that I drank my way through the summer.  I can see how that might have happened but, I assure you, I was sober and righteous most of the time.  Well, with the exception of Tuesday nights. Tuesday is Vinyl Night at Kaktus Brewing in Bernalillo and Stu (you’ve seen his blurry picture above) and I try to keep some music going — mostly music that is on vinyl records or first appeared on vinyl. We make some exceptions. The range of music has gone from surfer music to The Doors to lots of Jazz to The Rolling Stones, Joe Cocker, Willie Nelson, The Who and a little bit of Donovan. We were able to squeeze in Mark Knopfler’s Shangri La CD (not vinyl) this week. We are heading toward a western swing night before too long.

But — I’ve done other stuff. The Volcanoes and the BioPark show up in this blog pretty often as does Sandia Peak.  I really, REALLY, want to go fishing so I’m hoping that happens soon.

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In This I Find You Again

I can relate — nicely said

O at the Edges

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In This I Find You Again

If there is truth to be found
let someone find it. The yellow

rose rests in its jar. Day and
night it looks out through the glass

at the world of altered
lines, sensing, perhaps, beauty

through its failure to prevent
fading. Each morning I wake

and think of you. The hibiscus
on our patio readies itself to blossom,

but pauses as if to prolong
the moment, waiting for a reason

to end its denial. Then it unfolds.
You are all I care to find.

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