Traveling

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Very Continental!

Beam me up, Scotty.

Country Music Museum and Hall of Fame

Ryman Auditorium

The best trouble is Good Trouble. Thank you, John Lewis!

If you want to know the primary reason why I chose Tennessee for this year’s road trip, I have one name for you: ELVIS. I would not call myself a major fan, but a deep appreciator. The velvety voice, the charisma, the looks (I mean, seriously, so handsome), a body can’t help but be intrigued.

This is R.C.A. Studio B, where he recorded the vast majority of his work. It has been refurbished to look like it did at the beginning of his career, and the Steinway is THE piano he played both to warm up and record.

Dolly Parton also recorded here. Hallowed ground, my friends.

In addition to touring R.C.A. Studio B, our country music stint included the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum. It is a treasure trove of memorabilia! Most everything I photographed probably seriously dates me; I am 53, after all; including THE car from Smokey and the Bandit. I regret to report the film has not aged as well as my love for 1970s and 80s era Trans Ams. Oh, but, to hear Burt Reynolds laugh!

Willie Nelson’s hat and sneakers

Steve Young wrote the Seven Bridges Road, popularized by The Eagles, whose fab windbreaker is pictured below.

The Eagles!

Two of the Flying Burrito Brothers Nudie Suits. So freaking fabulous! Of course, Gram Parsons is the one covered in drugs. Not during his era (R.I.P. Gram), but this is my favorite song by the band. I doubt it will be a surprise to anyone.

The FIRST modern solid body guitar!

This beauty belonged to Elvis, of course. A 1960 Series 75 Cadillac Fleetwood limousine, which, thanks to 24-karat gold plate highlights and trim, was called his “Solid Gold” car. Customized by North Hollywood’s Baris Kustom City for a reported $65,000, it is covered in 40 coats of paint, called “diamond dust pearl,” that is made of crushed diamonds and fish scales. It did sparkle!

Webb Pierce’s 1962 Pontiac Bonneville, complete with guns, horse heads, a saddle, and 150 silver dollars, as embellished by Nudie Cohen of the Flying Burrito Brothers suits above. The man knew how to add flash.

Roy Rogers!

Minnie Pearl!

Next stop Chattanooga…Choo! Choo!

Eastern Colorado Electrical Bonanza, May 31st at 5 a.m.

Topeka!

Abundant butterfly weed on the Konza Prairie in Kansas. I’ll admit to a little plant jeaousy, as I have tried growing this both in Oregon and Colorado with zero success.

Beautiful…

We took a scenic detour on our way to Kansas City, lush and green and peaceful in its splendor. As a result, we stumbled upon Aggieville Brewing just as the lunchtime rumblies were peaking. They have delicious BBQ, very fine sour beer, and kindly service. Worth a detour, to be sure.

Kansas City – our stay was brief but lovely…

Certainly better than having our touristy plans ruined by rain, but a bit terrifying to drive in, nearly every major day of travel included at least one torrential downpour, several lasting hours. This is the misty final hurrah of our journey to Nashville. Very easy on the eyes…

Yes, definitely.

Hattie B’s Hot Chicken provided two of our most favorite meals in Tennessee, once in Nashville, the other in Memphis. Chicken perfection! Baked beans and grits and pimento mac and cheese! Banana pudding!

I have always wondered how people in the South tolerated the punishing humidity. Despite our trip being rather pleasant, all things considered, I did learn a valuable bit of intel on the matter. The more sultry, the better a slushy drink satisfies. As a result, I enjoyed a veritable rainbow, virgin and heady with booze. Highly recommended!

Suffragette City

Nashville Parthenon

Vanderbilt University

Yes, ma’am!!

I bought a hat here…

Hawkers Asian Street Food was a culinary and visual highlight. As we were in the South, of course we had more fried chicken, this time in a steamed bun. Gah, so good! Equally good vibes and friendly folk.

It’s Pride Month, y’all! Happy, happy…

Since Nashville is all about music and honky-tonkin’, we made certain to get our fill. This is Dylan Smucker and Friends (friend?) on stage. I just have to say, WOW. How lucky the people of Nashville are to have such fabulous music available literally every day.

This was at Jane’s Hideaway, in East Nashville, another terrific spot for a cocktail, appetizers, and really great service.

Even the losers get lucky sometimes…

South Broadway in Downtown Nashville is THE spot for Honky Tonks, so for the loud and crowd averse like us, we made the bright decision to arrive before the madness of nightfall, despite my love for full regalia neon.

Even at this early hour, the sidewalks were chockablock with jostling bodies, many already liquored up and ready to roll. We strolled up and down, ears peeled for the best voice and guitar and found it with Smitty and the Quick Triggers at Rippy’s. What a diversity of sound and songs, the Beatles to Lynyrd Skynyrd, with a sprinkling of fine original tunes. We stayed a long while and were quite impressed. My goodness, the talent in this town!

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Last week, Monday to be precise, I took a solo excursion to New Mexico, firstly in search of places to celebrate my Native Mexican heritage, with that dash of Comanche. My ancestral lines go back to Peru and the Maya of the Yucatan, and who knows how long they journeyed the thousands of miles to New Mexico or where they lived in between. Life is full of mysteries.

My primary concern was finding where long departed grandparents were married or baptized. Sadly, for the first stop, my camera, likely in an act of inattention, got out of setting and took the weirdest, mostly unsalvageable photos (save one – you’ll know it when you see it). Perhaps in an effort to cement my return, I wondered, because I definitely will be back.

Santa Cruz de la Canada, where three grandfathers (Jose Candelario Garcia, Jose Antonio Maes, and Jose Joaquin Garcia de Noriega) were baptized, and two sets of great-grandparents were married, (Jose Joaquin to Maria de la Concepcion), and most exciting, Antonia Olaya Xiron (such a beautiful name!) to Francisco de la Cerda on March 4, 1743. Isn’t it amazing to think this happened thirty-three years before before America was even a country?

The above two photos are in and around Espanola, the land of Ohkay Owingeh, where my Grandma Esquipula was baptized in 1827. This eastward view is one she took in, too. If you’ve done any similar traveling, I’ll bet you experienced that crushing sense of wonder and home. I come from this place. My soul lies in this soil.

My next stop was Abiquiu, the place Georgia O’Keefe made famous, and where a handful of my grandfathers were baptized at Santo Tomas Church: Juan Rafael Serna, Valentin Serna (born on Valentine’s Day!), Jose Felipe de Neri Cisneros, Florencio Casillas, and Marcos Antonio Alire.

You may be wondering where the church photos are, as I definitely have them, but I decided on painting watercolors and sharing them at a later date. Stay tuned…

And again, I was struck by the familiarity and awe of this landscape, a warm embrace of my ancestors welcoming me home.

Rio Ojo Caliente, here and a few below

My final stop was Ojo Caliente! I hadn’t been there since 2016 and had never gone without Greg, so it was an especially meditative time of very little speaking and much listening, to the fall and splash of water, wind over naked branches, and the early quiet of day.

I ate a few delicious meals at the Artesian, walked in the chill of morning (after the wild creatures in the labyrinth!), practiced yoga, and scrubbed and soaked and steamed, over and over again, fully aware of my great privilege to do so in a place my ancestors received similar respite.

Ute Mountain and the freshly capped Sangre de Cristos

All is revered, all is home…

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Not Taos, as the Cow would proclaim, nor San Cristobal, but Arroyo Seco here. We had a New Mexico itch in need of scratching, planned ages ago because we are prescient like that. Goodness, I do not believe we could have timed it better, either. The weekend prior was a wild tumult of wind, more wind, and snow, but for our brief sojourn, the weather was positively glorious. Sun and more sun, nary a breeze, and during the daylight hours, that earthly quiet my heart craves. Splendid dear friends, splendid.

We did go into town, buying a bracelet at MoMo (such a fine selection!) and devouring rellenos and chimichangas at Orlando’s.

Back to the Taos Cow, may I recommend a Cherry Ristra cone. For those not in the know, a ristra is a string of chiles, hung as you would a wreath in warm welcome. This particular welcome was, surprise, cherry, no chile, but delicious nuggets of dark chocolate and pinon nuts. Muy bien!

My shadow. His Light.

Here now is San Cristobal. We have zoomed past countless times, coming and going from Taos, this time deciding to stop at the Taos Goji Eco Lodge. It’s a delightful spot, with charming owners and care takers, cabins old enough to have hosted D.H. Lawrence, and Aldous Huxley. The rather fetching D.H. Lawrence cabin had all that we could ask for, but most cherished was the outdoor setting. So beautiful, and the stars, the stars! I cannot wait to have those skies availed to me on the daily.

The Lodge has forty acres, made for a wander, and is adjacent to beautiful trails. There are animals galore – sheep, alpacas, chickens, goats, and a sweet and very protective donkey named Doris Day. What fun we had making their acquaintance!

Our sweet girl had an equally good time, awake and asleep.

The road home. I never tire of these views!

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Views from the road to Westcliffe. It was the first leg of a Southern Colorado mini-break and early birthday celebration for my favorite human ever (Greg is 52 today!), with two nights in Trinidad as our final destination.

We had a fine lunch and wander in Westcliffe, enjoying stellar sandwiches at the Sugarlump and a cinnamon licorice treat from their sister shop, Lollypop & Co. A fun time in a cool town.

On our way to Trinidad, we stopped along the Huerfano River Valley, where my Williams, Serna, and Casias ancestors were among the first permanent settlers. There’s even a creek named for the Williams side nearby. As is my wont, I visited the cemetery and brought some sweet decor. Handsome Louis is my Great Uncle times three.

The land in the foreground was owned by my family. The first time we visited, there was a house just down the road that was also on land they owned, and we considered buying it before deciding a forty minute one-way to the grocery or a hospital was not our jam. It was, however, quite tempting to imagine waking up to that stunning view on the daily!

Buried just outside Aguilar, Colorado (where Al Capone once lived) is Esquipula Maes, my Great Grandmother times four. We stumbled amongst a sea of Italian headstones in 100 degree heat to find her. Boy was I happy when we did!

p.s. the dates on her headstone were wrong, so I erased them.

Trinidad is just a hop, skip, and a jump over the pass from Raton, New Mexico, so we did just that. I do not recommend arriving on a Monday at lunch time, however, as the town is pretty much closed. The theater did look quite nice though.

My Great Grandma Tillie lived in Trinidad in 1900. She’s looking every bit adorable (that wisp of a curl!) with her equally handsome older brother, Henry. They lived on Convent street in a house that no longer exists.

Up until this trip, Trinidad was only ever a stopping place on the way to New Mexico. I am so happy to have spent more time here now, enjoying its beauty, both natural and architectural (with a little bit of cheek!), friendly people, great food, and fun shops.

Mutiny, in addition to a superb service and a nook of black light posters (!!), offers used books, comics, and music, along with every child in an adult’s body (aka Colleen and Greg) superb coffee, a sugar cereal bar, the ultimate selection of lunch box pastries, and pop tarts! We chose strawberry and a hardcover book about Mongolia.

So many sights for sore eyes! Many of these buildings were here when my Grandma Tillie lived here, which made my heart so happy to expereince it somewhat through her eyes.

Definitely not present during her time, but surely worthy of her approval were the Indian Fry bread delights at Three Sisters.

Same goes for the margaritas at the Las Animas Grill. History lessons from the kindly owner are also on offer! Also worth noting, but totally without a photo because we ate them too quickly, were the wonderful pastries from Colie’s. We had a sticky bun cinnamon roll and an almond croissant. Yum.

We literally chose the hottest day of the year to hike, and my red face shows it. Yowza!

In addition to wanting to see the streets where my Grandma Tillie toddled about as a child, Greg and I were keen on vising Colorado’s newest state park – Fisher’s Peak. It’s about a five minute drive from downtown, and could not be easier. Worthy of note is the fact that dogs are not allowed at the park. No fretting needed, Juniper napped in the security of her crate and the air conditioned luxury of our rental while we hiked.

This was our longest and most difficult hike in ages, the first section 900 feet in elevation gain in the first mile, so yeah, steep. Not gonna lie, our legs and my right knee did some complaining, but it was certainly worth the incredible views of its namesake, the Sangre de Christos, and Spanish Peaks. Most definitely!

Last look east from Simpson’s Rest. Thanks for the memories, Trinidad!

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