Saturday, October 17, 2009
Sorry about the weather in the east
Sorry, no photos today. The scenery is there and waiting for us but we've been so busy that the camera seems to be stuck in the wrong place every time we think of taking a shot. But I (Craig) wanted to write about yesterday. And since there are no pictures then I guess I'll need a thousand words.
I was looking west and watching the line of the sunlight as it worked its way down the Jemez Mountains and then across the Rio Grande Basin moving toward us. By 7:30 it was so clear that I could see Mount Taylor, about 120 miles away and one of the four corners of the traditional Navajo land. Temp was 45 and Kathy and I decided to take Jackson on a couple of hour hike into the Barberia Canyon which is on the other side of our ridge line. We began on foot trails about two feet wide, made a small detour down a dry stream bed and dropped about 700 ft in elevation. Then we came to a path that had evidence of some kind of four wheeler. As we followed that the Pinyon (a type of pine that is sort of a tallish bush -- big ones are maybe 20 ft. high and they cover our side of the mountain) gave way to Ponderosa Pine (40 to 50 ft. high). This side of the mountain is facing north (less evaporation means more Ponderosa) and is protected from the wind. The four wheeler trail emerged onto a dirt road that was accessed from somewhere and we began to see a couple of houses. No idea how these people get in and out when it snows because the "road" would need a 4 wheel vehicle when it's dry. In the canyon it is incredibly quiet. Just walking we felt like we were making too much noise. Anyway, two hours later we climbed back up out of the canyon and Kathy made pancakes to die for and Jackson curled up in a chair and didn't stir for several hours. By the way, when we saw the 45 degrees we both put on polar fleece. Ten minutes into the hike we realized our mistake and were in shirtsleeves the rest of the way. When there is no breeze 45 degrees is downright hot in the sun. We are still learning about living at altitude.
So I got some work done and around 1:00 (it was about 60 at this point and the sky was so clear it was nearly purple) and I haven't had much time on the bike so I decided to check out this village near here called Galisteo. Down the mountain is always a bit of a thrill but I guess I'm getting used to it and off I went. It was beautiful. Back roads to an empty main highway. Trying desperately to keep my speed somewhat close to the speed limit and then down County Road 41 toward Galisteo. The road was following the old rail bed -- still in use by Amtrak -- on the right and a "river" (mostly dry at this point but filled with cotton wood trees that are turning yellows and oranges) on the left. I came over a little ridge and dropped down into the village which was nice enough but the road in front of me was spectacular. The entire valley opened up into this huge basin and I was dropping down one side like a marble rolling into a huge saucer.In front of me I could see miles of empty road. On both sides of me was ranch land (don't think lush green grass -- think brown scrub but beautiful none the less) and beyond that, on both sides, foothills/mountains that were a couple of miles away and felt like walls containing this place and isolating it from everywhere else.
The next thing I knew I was in Moriarty, about forty miles from Galisteo. Wow! On the way down I only saw about 10 cars and 9 of them were coming toward me. The only one going my way was a pickup that came up behind me. At this point I was going 70 so he was really hauling. I watched as it caught up to me and then was thinking of slowing to let him pass and Whew! he blew by me going about 90. That got my heart pumping a bit.
When I got to Moriarty I turned around and headed back. The wind was now on my back and the cruising speed edged up a bit. It wasn't like I had a choice because there were actually cars (well, two cars) going my direction now. About half way back to Galisteo I spotted a herd of prong horned antelope on the side of the road chewing on scrub and cactus. This basin would be a wonderful horse area because the view lines are enormous and just off the road looks like it must have 100 years ago.
Enough rambling. Just wanted to say, I'm having a wonderful time.
Craig
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Mountain Living


This is looking up toward the Ski Basin. You can just make out one of the trails (a swath of grey in the upper left hand corner). Yeah, like we're ever going down that thing!
Kitchen shots
This is the promised kitchen series. Apparently the last blog mentioning dirt floors and privy did little to disuade folks from questioning whether it is possible to have a kitchen in the "wild west". This is sarcasm and this is our kitchen.

The window you see looks out at a 50 mile view toward the Jemez Mountains. At night we see Los Alamos in the distance and Santa Fe at the base of our hill while we wash dishes. Not too shabby!


The center island and the pantry doors are made from old reclaimed wood and the doors were created, more or less, from old doors found in Central America.
Those bowls on the floor are for Jackson our dog. We do NOT make guests eat off the floor.
This is the last shot and is meant to show the door from the kitchen to the portal. Craig's grill is just beyond the door and is getting a ton of use. The opening to the left of the painting is going to the dining area and then to the entry hall.
Tomorrow we will try to dispell the myth that all of Santa Fe is brown desert. We took a short ride up to the Santa Fe Ski Basin and the Aspen were beginning to turn. All we can say is WOW! Check in tomorrow for some color in the mountains.
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