March 11, 2012 Day Two of our Southwestern Trip. I missed Day One, because we have stayed busy, and by the time I settled into the hotel room, I was exhausted.
For this first leg of our trip, we stayed at the Hotel St. Frances, in Santa Fe, New Mexico. A one-page welcome sheet prepared by the Hotel’s Regional General Manager, shares that the Hotel St. Frances was built in 1880, and inspired by the “early presence of the Franciscan missionaries in New Mexico. My reaction to the Hotel was that it was beautiful and welcoming. I loved the open airiness of the foyer, and the room was very cozy.
While we were in Santa Fe, a few of us went to the New Mexico History Museum. I learned of the long and violent past of this area, beginning thousands of years ago when various native people lived here, and built adobe villages. Later when the Spanish arrived, they named the villages "pueblo," which is the Spanish word for village.
The Spanish were greedy and took the land, violently evicting or enslaving the original inhabitants. There were mainly Apaches, Navahos, Utes and Comanches. The Spanish wanted to Christianize the native peoples, and installed missions throughout the area.
My favorite story from the history of this area is the great Indian uprising in 1680. Many Indian nations came together, even nations who were not allies. Po’pay was a medicine man who organized the plot to occur on August 10, 1680. He handed out small string tied knots and gave instructions to untie a knot a day, when they untie the last knot, all were to simultaneously attack the Spanish. An army of 2500 Indians sacked the Spanish in Santa Fe, and drove them out.
Surprisingly, that there was a Jewish migration from Germany in the mid 1800s. They were generally merchants, and thrived here.
It snowed our first night, and the next day we wandered around the old section of Santa Fe, freshly blanketed with fresh snow. By noon it was all gone, but it was such a treat while it lasted.
On the way to Santa Fe, we stopped at Eaves Movie Ranch, which is where my camera batteries died. Being a tourist without a camera is like missing a limb. I can’t wait to find a store open that sells batteries! Luckily everyone is going to share their pictures, and I won’t miss too many photo ops.
Eaves Movie Ranch is run by a guy who looks like Colonel Custer (I was not appropriately attentive to make note of his name). He lives at lonesome the set giving tours and sharing stories. The set was originally built in 1962 for the television show Empire, which I have no memory of. The first film shot there was the Cheyenne Social Club, in 1969. Since then some 40 films have used the set. Actors of note are Jimmy Stuart, Kirk Douglas, John Wayne, Johnny Cash and Kevin Costner. Definitely a cool place to go, and I recommend a glance at the website: http://www.eavesmovieranch.com/site.html.
We are on the bus right now heading to Chimayo and then Taos, New Mexico. The landscape flying by out the window is treeless, grey and interspersed with shrubs. Here and there we see adobe or pueblo style houses, ranches, and stores that blend in with the scenery. Everything matches, various shades of brown and grey.
I am writing roundabout day 5, and have some catching up to do. I left off while we were in Taos, New Mexico. We stayed at the historic Taos Inn, which was originally the home of Dr. Thomas Martin. Martin was the only doctor for miles around for nearly 40 years. Upon his death, his widow and former patients converted his home and the surrounding adobe homes into the hotel and restaurant. It was a great little place, somewhat rustic, but strikingly reminiscent of life in the old southwest.
We spent the day being tourists, roaming through the multitude of art galleries and shops. Nearly every shop or gallery had a trinket of one sort or another depicting a skeleton engaged in various activities. I came across it so often I finally asked a shop clerk what was the significance. It turns out the skeleton derives from the celebration of the dead, and combines the traditions of ancient Aztecs, pueblo peoples, and Indians. Every year on November 1st and 2nd, they celebrate by dancing on the graves of their departed friends and relatives. It is a time for visiting and conversing with loved ones who have passed away. Rather than crying and carrying on, the lives of the dead are celebrated.
We left Taos and headed north to Ghost Ranch, in the middle of nowhere New Mexico. The land here is colorful and exceedingly quiet. It is nestled in a small area surrounded by cliffs and mountains. There is electricity; however, there are no settlements nearby, thus, there are no lights. We were able to enjoy virtually the same night sky that ancient Greeks saw, and it was exceptional. There are thousands more stars in the sky that Easterners can only see if they visit a planetarium. We all stayed up late with our eyes fixed upward, completely overtaken by the natural beauty of heaven above. Our bus driver, Kathy, is native to this area, she sat off to the side watching us and quietly laughing at our naivety. We wondered aloud if the people who live here appreciate what they have. We likened it to our lack of appreciation for the beaches. Kathy offered no comment. She just laughed.
We took time out for a little party at Ghost House, and the resident librarian, Carol Merrill, stopped by to share stories of the few years she spent with Georgia O’Keeffe, and a brief history of Ghost Ranch.
Carol explained that the name derives from early owners who concocted stories of witches and ghosts to keep visitors away. The name was originally "Rancho de los Brujos" Spanish for "Ranch of the Witches." When later owners wanted visitors, the name was changed to Ghost Ranch.
Another story was of two brother cattle ranchers, one of whom secretly sold half of the herd and buried the gold somewhere on the ranch. She added that the gold has never been found, and many visitors come equipped with a metal detector hoping to find it. When the other brother discovered his sibling’s theft, he killed him. He was soon after tried for the murder, and hung by a tree. Carol motioned toward the old tree we stood under, adding to the eeriness of the event.
We took a couple of hours to drive through New Mexico’s Enchanted Circle. This area of New Mexico is breathtakingly beautiful. We did not stop and play in the snow, which was fine with me, I was happy to take it all in from the warmth of my seat in the bus. We did stop at the Vietnam Veterans Memorial State Park, which sits on top of hill relatively in the middle of nowhere. I had no idea it even existed. It is a moving display of memorabilia, including letters written to loved ones at home. It effectively brought to mind the sad memory of that war, and war itself. A sad fact of life that I believe we will never live without.
Our next stop is our current destination, Durango, Colorado. This is a beautiful western town surrounded by mountains. We are staying at the historic Strater Hotel, built in 1887, and decorated with period furnishings, wallpaper and curtains throughout. The history of the Hotel suggests that the Strater houses the largest collection of American Victorian era walnut furniture in the nation.
The trip has taken a negative downturn in the interrelations of the group. A few have separated from the group, one being my roommate. The tacky way this played out has caused me a bit of discomfort. Fortunately, there are others who have embraced me, and rather focusing on feelings of being put out, I am enjoying the camaraderie of my new dear friends. I put all ugliness aside, and instead soak in friendship and explore this incredible little Colorado town. We wandered the streets, ate at a little French place, and shopped. I even danced in the street with my professor! Special memories were made here that I cherish and shall never forget.
It is time for me to get ready for a trip to Mesa Verde. While I am looking forward to the experience of the cliff houses, I am also reluctant to leave the comfort of my room at the Strater Hotel. I have so few stolen moments, I want to luxuriate for as long as possible the quiet and solitude in this beautiful room. mmmmm mmmmmm mmmmmm.
A great part of this trip has been the films we watch while traveling. I have focused so much time on my day-to-day activities, I have not shared a significant aspect of this trip, and one of my favorite things to do: watching movies! Granted I have not been an avid watcher of western films, this trip has provided me with a greater appreciation for the genre.
While watching Billy Crystal in City Slickers; Robert Redford and Paul Newman in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid; and Peter Fonda, Dennis Hopper and Jack Nicholson in Easy Rider; the great landscape of New Mexico on the screen is extended in all of its glory out the window. This is how to watch a western! Not only is the expansive landscape playing a role in the film, it surrounds and envelopes me, and I am wrapped up in it along with the film.
Later still, I found an appreciation for John Wayne, who is the epitome of the western man. We watched She Wore a Yellow Ribbon and Stagecoach while we drove through Monument Valley. Part of the reason I did not care of westerns was the stark landscape. Being a part of that landscape and witnessing the feel of that land has changed me and my opinion about westerns. It is unlike my experience of living in Sedona and Phoenix, Arizona. Then I was obsessed with living and surviving in a strange land. Now I am in the west to learn and appreciate its presence and beauty.
Monument Valley, Utah/Arizona is an alien world, and, I was to learn, it is a unique land the worldwide. Leroy, our Navaho guide, in his “much talking but rarely getting to any specific point” way of teaching, introduced us to the Navaho relationship with this land. First, Leroy tells us “everything is power, the land, the rocks, the plants – everything.” He need not have mentioned it, because the power in this land is literally palpable. Someone mentioned to me that they could feel that something devastating and horrible had happened in this place. I would have to agree, I could feel it too. Maybe it had to do with the barrenness of the land. However, Leroy promised us that the Navaho were industrious people, and through many generations of living there, they knew how to find sufficient sustenance and water to survive.
From my readings, and what I could interpret from Leroy, I understand that the Anasazi people were the cliff dwellers, who inexplicably left the cliffs and came to this place many thousands of years ago. The college student girl in the museum at Goulding’s Lodge explained that the Navaho word for ancient ones is “Anasazi.” Lyn Bleiler, with the Society of the Muse of the Southwest, and author of Images of America Taos, relates that the Anasazi were the original pueblo builders in southern New Mexico. The Anasazi people were not hunters, and Leroy told us that the early Navaho learned farming from them. In turn, the early Navaho taught them to hunt, and they were the artists who painted the petro glyphs, most of which depict animals.
Our final stop was to Spruce Tree House at Mesa Verde, an ancient cliff-side home of the Anasazi. According to the Park Ranger, it is believed that the former inhabitants arrived at Mesa Verde 2200 years ago, and lived there for the next 13 centuries. The artifacts found there included intricate baskets and pottery. We learned that their diet consisted of corn, beans and melon.
We were allowed to freely roam the rooms, and I climbed into the “Kiva,” thought to be a room used for ceremonies. The rooms and houses have been only slightly reconstructed, leaving them nearly 90% in the same condition as when first discovered, in 1880. Standing here in homes once inhabited by large extended families of Anasazi, is like nothing I have previously experienced, and words cannot describe my experience.
The entirety of our trip was like going from one fantastical adventure to the next. I would have rather taken more time at most all of our stops. However, the added bonus of watching corresponding films while we traveled made up for it. Should the opportunity ever arise, this is a trip I would make again, and take a more leisurely time of it. I loved the Strater Hotel, although I would sacrifice it to spend more time at Monument Valley, the cliff dwellings, or add the Grand Canyon. This is not to say that I would not recommend the Strater Hotel to others, as everyone who has not been out west really should take advantage of the Strater and Durango, Colorado.
Works Cited
Lyn Bleiler. Images of America Taos. Society of the Muse of the Southwest. Arcadia Publishing, Charleston, South Carolina. 2011. Print.
Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Dir. George Roy Hill. Perf. Paul Newman and Robert Redford. 20th Century Fox 1969.
City Slickers. Dir. Ron Underwood. Perf. Billy Crystal and Jack Palance. MGM 1991.
She Wore a Yellow Ribbon. Dir. John Ford. Perf. John Wayne. RKO 1949.
Stagecoach. Dir. John Ford. Perf. John Wayne and Claire Trevor. United Artists 1939.
