So, no more honeymoon updates yet, because I'm just logging on to say that it is amusing to me that my mother is spending the night in Paris tonight. She'll be returning to Seattle on Sunday with her head intact, I believe.
But what of the Scarlet Pimpernel?
That sounds a little bit like I'm about to launch into the states of marriage, culled from the representative sculputure of the American Southwest (dear American Southwest, please ditch the representative sculpture, best regards, Ida), but I'm totally actually speaking literally!!!!!!!!
Our honeymoon route ambled thusly: New Mexico, Colorado, Utah, Colorado, New Mexico, Arizona, Nevada, California, Oregon, Washington (my home!).
Saaaayyyy...didn't we tell everyone we were just going to New Mexico? Well, if you must know, the third state of representative sculpture is lying.
Either that or "hey, should we drive to Utah and hike around Arches and Canyonlands while eating tacos?" And we all know that abstract sculpture teaches us that the only answer to that question is "habanero!"
Which is also what our honeymoon was. It never even occurred to me to check my voicemail or email even once. (Okay, maybe that first day when one of our bags didn't arrive...and certainly after lightning made our return flight improbable.) We were just too happy from how well the entire wedding went and it carried through--although really the wedding itself felt almost unreal, especially since we'd gone from mild weather and fancy clothes to hothothot and hiking shoes. (Listen, you, we were also wearing hiking clothes...some of the time.)
We took pictures everytime we ate Mexican food (oh, man, I can't wait to cook up the posole we brought home...even though we could also have purchased some here in Seattle). And it was good. I could eat it right this second, were I not so busy typing up this piece of representative sculpture. In quick format, here's how it all went down (so to speak):
June 19: Ida and Yellow Dog Arrive in Albuquerque
That missing bag I mentioned? Totally our fault because we were (sort of) late to the airport. Who cares? We're married! We got a hotel and went shopping for hiking sandals. Later on we ate pasta and Yellow Dog picked up the bag from the airport (and also from a very nice woman who appears later in our story).
June 20: Albuquerque to Eagle's Nest
We drove north on the turquoise trail and saw a roadrunner! (Roadrunner, roadrunner...) We didn't really stop anywhere, but did slow down through the town of Madrid to guess at what movie was being filmed because there were one million trailers. We did stop in Santa Fe to buy a hat (to shield my brains), eat some tacos at the Burrito Company and wander around just enough to be sure that, yep, it's all tourism and hey, uh, where'd that Whole Foods go?
We meant to camp that night, but we were flummoxed by looking at scenery and going the slow way..which also meant initially missing a left turn in Trucha--because there was no sign except for some bright red flowers--and ending up on an unpaved road...which we drove on for awhile because in New Mexico that really could be the right road. We could have figured it out immediately after we passed the red flower turn and three kids eating ice cream said "What's with all the tourists?" We couldn't find the campsite we thought we were looking for, so ended up staying in a little motel so sketchy that Yellow Dog shoved the couch in front of the door.
June 21: Vietnam Memorial to Heron Lake
The day was bright and sunny--let's go look at war atrocities! I went to the Vietnam Memorial near Angel Fire the last time I was in New Mexico, but the visitor's center wasn't open and I was the only person there. This time there were a bunch of folk and it didn't have the same impact--Yellow Dog might say different--but I still recommend going there. It's an excellent study in types of patriotism...actually, leave "study" out of it. There it is, one father's monument to his son in the middle of fishing country.
After that, we scooted up to Taos. We ate some most delicious smothered food (red or green?) and wandered about the pueblo and the touristy shops. The pueblo is a little odd because it's so easy to get to that it almost feels like it might really be in Disneyland (which Yellow Dog pointed out) even though there are still people living there. Now, this is likely also because tourists are only allowed in a certain area. There is a good chunk of history immediately visible when you look at the cemetery at the site of the old church (forcibly built) and see, among the Dead Stay Dead sites, a huge pile of wooden crosses. To whom did they belong? How old are they? Why are they uprooted and in a huge pile?
Think about that in contrast with one of the shops in town called "Moby Dickens." Truth told, though, I really like Taos because the tourism there feels more like "hey, you guys wanna go ride bikes?"
After that, we drove up to Heron Lake and set up our tent. Then we went on a dinner quest: we were treated to a little sign about ten miles further north claiming that the Cliffview restaurant was open eight miles away. And it was! It was tasty and cabin-y and deer were everywhere. (I did not hit a HUGE deer on the way back home, despite it's ambling out into the dark road and looking like a giant moose-bear.)
See how I just typed "on the way back home" but really I meant "on the way back to the campsite?" Because that's how entirely fantastic it is traveling with one Yellow Dog Husband. (That was true before we were married as well: see also, reason eleventy-seven to get married.)
June 22: Chama to Moab!
We are going back to Chama someday. Not to ride the historic train, but because of the biker who owns the little everything-you-want-in-the-name-of-trinkets-and-delicious-coffee: hello, mellow!
The drive today featured a brief stop in Durango (to eat some tacos in a rooftop restaurant featuring umbrellas and a light misting of water every now and again) and the purchase of two camp pillows. After that, it was all reddening soil ramblings to Moab.
June 23: Food, Arches, food!
We started out the day eating at the Jailhouse Cafe. So. Good. Then we drove up to the entrance to Arches and bought a National Parks pass. Today also marked the beginning of our daily ritual to hike in the hottest part of the day. (And now is where I say that we didn't get sunburned during the entire trip: dear sunblock, you are love.) As you likely well know, Arches rules. It's so freaking amazing and cool and interesting and full of international tourists and hot and weird and dry and red and immense. I cannot wait to go back.
That night we camped at Archview Campgrounds among cabins and ridiculous RVs. We also ate fantastic takeout from Miguel's (oh, enchiladas, where are you now?).
June 24: In which we are almost lost in Canyonlands
Our parks pass let us in to Canyonlands. First stop: Island in the Sky Visitor Center. We had a little plan that we knew we'd forget if we saved the postcard/stamp collecting till after the hiking. While in the visitor center, Yellow Dog was recognized due to his Seattle sketch stylings.
We hiked up to Upheaval Dome, looked at it, and decided that the trail surely went in a loop, so let's go this way!
This is the part where we almost got lost. Luckily, we paid attention to the kairns and decided that we shouldn't go walking off the edge of the rocks into a canyon. It was exciting and fun--and served us right as we'd been making Bobby! Cindy! jokes as well as a few about The Great Brain. It took us one million years to hike back to the car, but it was such a quiet hike and everywhere we looked we saw lizards and cicada casings and rocks and cryptobiotic crust and each other.
Upon our return, we went swimming (who needs towels!), changed into clean clothes, drove into Moab to chow down at Miguel's (hello, margarita), and then drove around with the top down. (Um, on the car.)
To be continued...I totally have to go teach the Youth of Today. I'll edit this here post in the soontime. So look here for more tales of Aztec, Jemez, Los Alamos, the spa, and the journey homeward.