I’ve been waiting for MCARP to blog about his Santa Fe trip, but I’ve given up waiting.

First thing you need to know is that it was HIS trip and I was only along for the ride, for which I am grateful since I really needed to get out of town. However, it’ll be awhile before I take a long car ride again. The bouncing, etc., was physically very difficult for me and I was out of action for a couple of days after we got back. In any case, I don’t feel too bad about blogging Santa Fe, even though it’s mainly MCARP’s story to tell, because he and I had very different experiences. He had his focus and I had mine and we didn’t spend all that much time together once we got out of the car. I’m perfectly content to let him tell his story in his way, but I do think his story is more interesting than mine. This is a blog entry about my own experiences and has not much to do with his story.

As we got on the road and before we’d driven even the first hour out of Oklahoma City, we had to stop for road food. One thing about the trip that stands out for me was that MCARP and I both like to stop frequently and dither. It made for us being good road companions. MCARP, in this thumbnail, is taking a picture of a frosty rootbeer. You see, when you tweet, facebook, blog and text, everything has to be documented. So, MCARP had to get this shot. It’s only half of his road food diet, though. The other half is beef jerky.

Because I’m careful about my health these days, I couldn’t imagine a road diet of root beer and beef jerky. No No No. I had a MUCH more healthy road diet. Salted peanuts poured into a bottle of Coca-Cola, just like God intended. Also coffee. Lots of coffee. We may have set a land speed record for getting to and coming home from Santa Fe. I think it took us about 8.5 hours to get there and about 9.5 hours for the drive back. We stopped and ate, for goodness sake!

We had great weather, I thought. The highs were in the mid 60s and that’s just fine because there’s lots of walking to do in Santa Fe between the plaza and Canyon Road, where all the galleries gather. Sunshine, but a bit of a brisk wind in the evenings. We stayed at Garrett’s Motel, which I believe The Debster found for a trip a few years ago. I loved the place. Good rooms only a block from the plaza and a price point of about $80 per night. I think the front desk crew was a little taken aback when MCARP and I burst out into an a capella version of “Oklahoma!” as we checked in, but we were a bit giddy from the ride and happy to be back on solid ground.

Once we arrived in Santa Fe, we mostly split up. Mike went to the sculpture garden and visited Taos, for example, while I stuck around the plaza. We met for meals and did some things together, of course, but, as I say, he had his focus and I had my own. While he was gadding about, I walked to the plaza to see the craziness that goes on there.

One of the places I keep going back to for a meal is The Ore House on the plaza. I love to sit up on the second floor patio and watch the action going on at street level. On this day, there were a couple of guys singing, guitar playing, horn playing, etc., while we ate and they did covers of standards, lots of 50s-80s music, that kind of thing. I splurged for a filet of beef dinner and ate it all every bit. A very happy plate. Between the food, the music and the view I was perfectly happy with the price. Your mileage may vary.

These girls were dancing to the theme song of a Japanese cartoon, doing the same dance routine as the characters. If you don’t recognize the characters they represent, then your children and/or grandchildren aren’t the right age and you can go out and get some of your own. I never quite figured out if they were raising money for Japan tsunami relief or for their own trip to Japan, but they had tip jars out they passed around every time the theme song came to an end. They were very energetic and posed for photos with other kids/tourists.

I got a little fascinated with this young woman who was sitting at the center of the plaza reading “War and Peace”. I kept wondering if she intentionally turned herself into a cliche or if it was just that she was a cliche and didn’t know it or what. About three or four young men stopped to ask her what she was reading while I watched. None of them lasted very much longer than the answer. I wrote a short story about her in my mind while I watched, but I’d really like to know what was going on in her head. I never asked because I’d rather have my fantasy than the torpid and pedestrian reality answer.

Saturday night was the night of the so-called “supermoon”. Once every 18 years, the moon comes to its perigee, the closest to Earth portion of its orbit, and that full moon rising this year was dubbed supermoon. Not only did I catch a photo of the moon rising over the cathedral just off the plaza, but as you can see, there were quite a few amateur photogs trying for the same shot before dark clouds hid the brightness.

Although I wandered in and out of about 100 different shops and passed by dozens and dozens of street vendors, I really wasn’t in much of a buying mood. I think the only thing I bought in Santa Fe was a hat and that only because the sun was really bright at the altitude. The hat I bought will be indistinguishable from my other hats to almost everyone. It’s black and brimmed and soft and a westernized fedora. I think the price was $30. Oh, and I bought some clusters of sage, pinon and cedar that supposedly makes the world smell like Santa Fe and I’ll be dropping them into the fire this cool weekend here in Oklahoma City. From a chamber of commerce point of view, I’m not much of a tourist, I suppose, but I really don’t have much use for tourquoise jewelry and woven blankets and my walls are already full of original oil paintings.

As to meals, I have a special thank you to send out to Soartstar for turning me on to Pascal’s, just off the plaza, where I had breakfast. Lots of locals and good food. I also had coffee about midway between Garrett’s and the plaza at an Italian coffee and glace place called “Pronto”, where I had the odd experience of being in an Italian eatery seated next to three Germans who had a conversation in English with a Japanese couple. I believe they were trying to re-establish the mid-century Axis powers, but I’m not sure since it was in code and about art galleries.

Our last dinner in Santa Fe was at The Pink Adobe, which for some reason had several oil paintings of roosters up on the wall. It’s about a block from our hotel and VERY good. I had a blue corn chicken enchilada that was paired with spiced hominey as a side and the hominey was darned delicious.

About the time we hit Amarillo on the way back, my right kidney surgical site began to hurt like the devil and I was exhausted when I got back to my own bed. Nevertheless, well worth it. Over to you, MCARP. This is my story and I’m sticking to it.

Blogblah

You guys do know, don’t you, that you can click on the photos and get full size? Try it, you’ll like it. Or not.