The boy had a project to research the Native American tribe the Tewa, a Pueblo tribe from the Southwest United States. While we were in DC, he took a great interest in plants of the desert. I thought, why not take a trip there (after we'd already been to DC over New Years) to back up his learning. So, up to the last minute, I was planning a trip that jumped back and forth from Phoenix to Albuquerque and back again. I finally settled on flying in to Albuquerque, New Mexico, and traveling around the area. National had a special for weekends in January, as there aren't a lot of visitors. I rented a car for Friday to Sunday. It was $16 a day, and then taxes on top, etc. We paid $75 total. What a great deal. I made no reservations for rooms, as we had no idea where we would be. This was completely a winged trip.
Friday morning we jumped on a flight through Houston. Things went very well, and we arrived in New Mexico around noon. We got a small midsize car for the price of a tiny car (they screwed up), and we were on our way. The bus driver mentioned the Pueblo at Taos being one of the best. She hadn't been to any others, but recommended Taos. Two and a half hour drive, but it was indeed worth it. We jumped on the interstate, and followed the maps feature on my iPhone. This little device was instrumental in finding our way around the states we traveled through.
On the way to Taos, just before Santa Fe, on reservation land, we found a nice policeman who clocked me a little faster than he felt was appropriate. I promised a nice donation to his tribal court, and we were on our way. The Pueblo at Taos is actually a working/living pueblo. There is an active community, and the building are still occupied. Locals sell their wares, are willing to talk to visitors, and live in what is literally a piece of history. The pueblo is actually on the list of protected sites for the United Nations World Heritage List (http://whc.unesco.org/en/list/492). What an incredible location. We were guided through the site by a young man that volunteered to describe what we were seeing, to share his culture, and to bring the experience alive. He worked on donation. He was awaiting an appointment to Annapolis, set up by a visitor the previous year. The Catholic Church itself was built of mud. This was an incredible learning experience for me, as I've never been to the Southwest. The website shows the beauty of the buildings. (Turns out the boy had a project due Tuesday when we got back over the dry farming of the area, so great research opportunity.)
After taking photos, doing a little shopping, and asking some questions, we jumped back in the car and toured around Taos. There is not a lot to see in the area around Taos, other than the Pueblo, for us. We went to the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge, a bridge over a very, very deep canyon. There were sheep at the edge of the gorge, and that was amazing. My nerves took over as I walked out. I had my phone in my hand, and as hard as I tried to take a photo over the edge, I couldn't do it. My mind kept telling me that I was going to drop or throw the phone. It was absolutely overwhelming, and my hands never got past the railing. Mr. Chuckles, my traveling buddy, made sure to heckle me the whole time. No sympathy. I was literally shaking, and trying not to cuss (my fall back when I get nervous).
That night, as the sun went down, we drove west to the border. My goal was to get as close as possible to four corners. A nice long, windy trip. One problem with the maps, I didn't realize I was going through an area with no fuel. The vehicle was incredibly fuel efficient, but I still was concerned. We drove for about two hours without seeing a single sign of humanity other than an occasional vehicle traveling the other way. The forest was beautiful, but threatening if the gas ran out.
We made it all the way to Shiprock by 9 pm. Again, maps don't reveal the truth. Shiprock is actually Navajo tribal property. Sociologically, incredible. Row houses, about the size of my garage, dotted the land. No variation, no second floor, no garage. Just row houses. The only businesses were along 64. A McDonalds, a few other fast food restaurants. I looked all around town for a motel. Nothing. Drove up to the hospital. Surely a hospital will have a motel next door. The hospital was an outreach of Health and Human Services. Just to the north of it was a walled apartment complex, with fancy cars, and tons of variety. This clearly is where the non-tribal doctors live. The community doesn't allow anyone to stay overnight. If you are going to the hospital (and it is a large hospital) you are obviously from the community, or have ties to the community. There is no need for a motel. Wow. In the morning, we stopped for breakfast at the McDonalds. It is owned and operated by tribal members. Unable to find a place to spend the night, we had to back track 40 minutes, to Farmington. I found a room at the Anasazi (a negative term given to the Pueblo people by the Navajo, enemies) Motel, for about $45 a night. We crawled in to bed at 1030 pm, with a 6 am wake up call. A bit frustrating, but very enlightening.
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