Saturday, May 22, 2010
Day 16 -17 Albuquerque to Santa Fe 05-12-10
Day 16
5-12-10
Albuquerque to Santa Fe
ALBUQUERQUE
I’ve spent six wonderful days in Albuquerque with my cousin Antonio Martin, son of Rudy Martin and family. Thank you for everything, especially for the warmth of your company. Please forgive me for overstaying, but you have made me feel as if I belong in Albuquerque. It will always be a home I can come to, but never feel that I’ve left.
Antonio and his four year old daughter Isabella (Bella) come to the Casino/Hotel 66 on May 5, 2010. Antonio called my room to inform me that he was there. I was not expecting anyone that night, so it was a pleasant surprise to hear him say that he and Bella were out and decided to have an ice cream at the Johnny Rocket fountain inside the Casino. I met him downstairs in the lobby and for the first time meet Bella. I see that she is a free spirit with a mind absorbing all that she can take in. Antonio lets me know that he will be expecting me tomorrow when I get into Albuquerque, and that I would be staying with him while in town. I accept this and thank him for his hospitality. We spoke of his time with Bella and his schoolwork at UNM. He is pursuing his Masters in Public Administration and has finals to complete, yet I see his fatherly love for his daughter and his commitment to spend quality time with her in between his studies. I believe the last time I saw Antonio was in 1995. He has grown into a handsome young man with a heart of gold and a great sensitivity for life. He looks and speaks very much like his father, Rudy.
The following morning I arrive and meet Antonio in front of his home. He helps me dismount my panniers and makes his way into his living room, and informs me to lean my bike against the wall. I shower; change and we’re off into Albuquerque for lunch at an Italian restaurant by the name of Cappos built in 1953 by some of the first arriving Italians with possible connections. We sat out on the patio where Antonio and I conversed. Bella, to my surprise, took his camera and began to photograph. She moved about taking pictures of the fountain, furniture, people passing through and, of course, her father and me. The cutest moment was while we were eating when Bella became excited while slurping her spagetti noodles one at a time, unbeknownst to her leaving the sauce completely around her mouth and nose, cheeks and chin. Bending her head back and slowly dropping the tip of a two foot noodle into her mouth, the whole time laughing at the length of the noodle. It was truly a living moment of God’s innocence in the heart of a child. The rest of the day went without interruption full of laughter, joy and great conversation.
The following day, May 7th, Antonio gave me the keys to his car which I utilized to drive across town to pick up my 89-year-old cousin Peggy Romero having breakfast at Anita’s Restaurant and Motel. Huevos Rancheros on my part finishing it off with sopapillas. Peggy informs me that she lost her husband Max in February, and is now living in her home with her son Mike. After finishing we drive to her daughter Maryann and Carl, her son-in-law’s home. We sit for three hours speaking of the changes in Albuquerque. The political imbalance, the state’s government and the unpredictable weather changes. I am told that the wind we have been experiencing is very unusual for this time of year. Both are retired, she from nursing and Carl from the construction trade. It was a pleasant three hours and, once again, I felt as if I’ve known these folks all my life.
Saturday comes around, the day of age. When it comes to numbers mine are 59, and for a full year any paperwork that I fill out will reflect that number, 59. How strange to feel like I’m still 21. Throughout the day I received calls from my family members and friends wishing me the best of birthdays. On this particular day a celebration was happening at my brother Pete’s house for his daughter Erica, who just turned 21. It was so good to hear from them. I celebrate the evening with Rudy, his wife Darlene and Antonio with a couple of Modelos, prime rib dinner and a delicious apple crust pie alamod for dessert.
Mother’s Day comes around and once again we’re together with an added family member, Mary, Rudy’s mother. She is 83 and reminds me of mom’s personality. She has her humorous way of conversation, facial gestures and quick wit with her hands when you’re not watching. We had a wonderful breakfast and dinner together on that day, and I am told endlessly to stay in Albuquerque. We laughed a great deal, I especially with Rudy’s uncanny ability to hit the punch line of every joke he tells. He is truly a man down to earth and sensitive to the needs of the people he represents in the field of law. His wife Darlene truly complements him and the people of Albuquerque with her kindness and consideration in all facets of her personality, knowledge and her accomplishments in the field of public administration for the school system. We do some family visiting arriving at Dolores (Lola) his sister’s home. Lola’s has two children, the first Andrew, a proficient gunsmith and trainer of weapons for various law enforcement agencies throughout the nation, and her daughter Jahom, who will be graduating this month from UNM in Education. It was wonderful to see the display of affection they have for each other as adults in this family. It brought home the connection and the closeness that I have with my brothers and sisters.
I was to leave on Monday, May 10th, but due to the aggravation of neck and shoulder pain which numbed my left arm, Rudy made an appointment with Drs. Robert and Joseph Edwards, at the Chiropractic and Nutrition Center for that same day, Monday. Dr. Edwards, Sr., and his wife were wonderful people along with their staff. They were very professional, caring and compassionate individuals in their field of work. I would recommend them to anyone passing through the area. You would literally be in good hands. Allstate ain’t got nothin’ on the Edwards. I decided another day’s rest would be beneficial before getting on the road which extended my stay one more day.
Tuesday I spend the day with Antonio, and we went to the University of New Mexico to drop of his final term paper for the semester. We drove up Route 66, which is now post 1947, showing me the buildings of the Route’s golden era with a mix of the abandoned buildings and now restored structures. Most of this is in the heart of Albuquerque.
5-12-10, I leave Antonio’s home early with him at the computer writing for another one of his final exams. He gives me the directions I need to get to Bernalillo, my first stop. I have decided to break up the 65 mile ride to Santa Fe in three parts. The first I’ve mentioned, the second would be to Santa Domingo Pueblo and the last Santa Fe. The reason for this breakup – HILLS – plus I want to see the Pueblos without rush. At least that is the plan or now, anything can happen. Antonio wishes me well and reiterates, “If anything happens do not hesitate to call. Or if you need anything do not hesitate to call.” I thank him, give him a brasso, and get on the road. The ride was short but very comfortable. It helped that the beginning was a four mile descent on Route 66. Many hotels along this stretch are original, still in business and nostalgic of the era. Yet many are gone with just a remnant of their marquis or are boarded up. This route if continued is post 1947 which takes you through Albuquerque and onto I-40. I decided to take the pre-1947 Route 66 to Bernalillo and the Pueblo de Santo Domingo and on through to Santa Fe. My route was very busy traversed by commuters off to work. There were no breaks between communities, so I was in contact with businesses throughout this leg of riding. I stopped in Rio Ranchoat at the High Desert Bicycle Shop in search for a possible bike fit. My thinking was there might be a measurement off which may be causing my shoulder discomfort. Fortunately, there was someone knowledgeable who made adjustments which made a difference after leaving the shop. As I said earlier, after the much needed alignment and muscle massage that put the body back into action, I felt with at least 3000 miles left to ride it might be a good thing to have the bike realigned as well. I cross over the Rio Grande, take some pictures and guess what, it’s not so Grande. But it is flowing and I understand the water is constantly murky.
Albuquerque runs north and south along the base of the Sandia Mountains for roughly 30 miles, and is 20 miles in width. Today the wind was down to 2 to 5 mph allowing unlimited visibility of the entire area. The clouds were coming in from the west giving completeness to the depth of the horizon and mountain ranges. I met up with my cousins Johnny and Cora Medina from Espanola. He had a Dr. appt. in Albuquerque and stopped by Bernalillo on his way home. We conversed for an hour or so, touching bases about the family members. We agreed to have dinner when I get to Santa Fe. I contacted my cousin Robert Romero and made arrangements to meet him at his home in Pueblo Santo Domingo on 5-13-10.
BERNALILLO
In 1948 Bernalillo was incorporated as a city and today has a population of 6,611 people. Bernalillo is the center of history for New Mexico and is situated at the base of the Sandia Mountains and the Rio Grande. From the 1600s to the 1800s it was a commercial center for trade among the pueblos and the Mexican settlers. Situated at the foot of the Sandia Mountains beside the state's major river the Rio Grande, it progressed from a string of haciendas along the river in the 1600's to a commercial center of trade among the pueblos and the Mexican settlers in the 1800's. The grapevine was brought to this area in the 1620s which brought about many families making their own wine. It became a major industry for a while but floods, drought and even prohibition caused a decline in the market. However, today there is a strong wine industry with yearly festivals. The main street is rich in history with Route 66 having once been a major link with the outside world and one of the oldest historical trails in the U.S.
This day may have seemed uneventful! however looking beyond the unseen, it was living. How I love Life.
Take care and Love ya all
Old man living the uneventful and still smiling
Monday, May 17, 2010
Day 15
5-06-10
Grant to Albuquerque 68 miles
I’m still very tired and stay in bed. I get the nudge letting me know that my breakfast and coffee are served and waiting for me. I open my eyes and smell fresh perked coffee. Without any effort I’m dressed eat a great meal and ready to ride. Suddenly I feel a burning sensation running up and down my legs. It’s difficult to move them but I keep trying. They start to feel numb and with one last burst of effort they move; I turn onto my left side and see the clock. It’s 6 am. Dreaming again. I do get up this time, dress and go get a cup of coffee at the front desk. I ask the two house cleaning clerks about the road conditions on Route 66 and the distance to Albuquerque . They tell me around 75 miles and that the roads are good, but once I pass Sky City Casino there will be no services. Sky City is 15 miles out of Grant. So I leave a little wary of what to expect. Fortunately the day will be good with winds at 20 mph to my back, clear skies with a camelback and four full bottles of water. All with a smile. What more could I ask for. Mmmmmm a motor on my bike! I’m ready Freddy.
I return to my room, fix myself a bowl cereal and decide I would stop at the casino for a full breakfast. I leave at 7am and onto Route 66 I go. After a couple of miles I see something that has been consistent along both sides of the road. Glass and plastic bottles, aluminum cans, and debris of all sorts. As an outsider I wonder why a State with so much land and a people with a great spirit of preservation and a connection to everything around them would let it be littered. There is a TV commercial In California of an Indian with tears falling from his eyes as a full forest passes by before him being destroyed by careless actions of man, and billboards promoting the need to protect the land from waste and litter. Of all places this State represented by several Indian tribes should promote the same desire to protect their beautiful State. I haven’t seen anything saying “Please don’t litter”. Politics!
I come to small sleepy community and hear Dogs barking up ahead. As I get closer I see a woman behind a six foot chain link fence holding a shepherd back. There is a sign that says (Gallery 66 San Fidel). The Gallery is old but well preserved with a wooden porch and glass door. To the right is a well manicured garden path lined with rocks which you to fruit trees and various plants from the area. Sitting to the back is a adobe building which appears inhabited. I wave at the person as I pass and don’t get far when I decide to return. I roll up on my bike and say “Good Morning” and in reply she offers the same. I say, “I see you have an art gallery, is it open?” She says, “Yes.” I return, “I wasn’t sure because the gate was locked.” She looked a little reluctant and proceeded to unlock the gate and said the dogs would not bite. I comment on her garden, how well manicured it was and its warm appearance. She asks if I would like to come in, and I reply yes. She says to bring the bike in, and follows up with, I’ve seen cars broken down and the owners leave only for them to come back to a car that is stripped. So I roll my bike in, she locks the gate behind and she proceeds to inform me of her adventures to New Mexico . She was originally from Maine , an accomplished designer and actress and has resolved herself to be an artist. She acquired the land with a friend seven years ago, fell in love with the environment and did not acquire any knowledge of the people until after the purchase. She and her friend renovated the building which has since become a Registered National Historic Landmark, and guided me through on a tour of the building. Starting from the rear she worked her way to the front. The rooms were filled with antique artifacts and many items which were left on the property, all separated by category of material – glass, wood, steel, metal, and rock. In the middle of the room was a work table which had projects in progress. Her work consisted of natural items, such as wood branches, leaves, dirt combined with the artifacts, some antique, some up to date, created tabletops of broken Indian pottery of coordinated colors, frames of metal stretch wrist bands which were acquired by a friend who owned a watch shop. The bands were cut at length and glued to wrap around the frame vertically and horizontally, very unique. With pride she showed me articles of local news writings she proudly boasted as her 15 minutes of fame. She was rather eccentric in explaining with emotion and hand gestures, but more importantly a love for the work. Her name was Mary Trask. She spoke of the many travelers on bike who have stayed in the building from various parts of the world, individuals who needed shelter which she offered. With that she proceeded to guide me to the back where there was an adobe building which was once a motel with several rooms when Route 66 was active. She stated that the opening to the right with adobe bricks around it was the remnants of the other half of the hotel. She opened the door into the existing building where a room has been set up with a bed, a wooden rocking chair and other small furnishings. She stated some of the individuals that traveled through stayed in the room, and the other half of the building was her pottery room. Again these rooms had antique artifacts and the tools used for her artwork. I inquire about the chain link fence being six feet high. She laughs and says, “Protection from vandalism.” She said unfortunately the people of the community do not take pride in their property as you see, and in looking around I had to agree. There were several broken down cars, unkempt yards, doors and windows hanging as if no one occupied the homes. When I asked why, she said, “Don’t ask that question too loud. They tend to be very defensive about any intrusive questions regarding the way they live.” I asked to take a picture, and she was somewhat reluctant but permitted it when I told her it was something that only I would have. It would go into a journal regarding my travels. I realized an hour had already passed and I let her know my appreciation for her time and her artwork. I inform her on the way back I will stop again. So with that I rode my bike back out on the street and wave goodbye.
San Fidel is a small community that includes a number of picturesque buildings. Though there are still people that live here, San Fidel is long past its prime. In the old days there were a number of cafes and automobile services in this fading town. However, today it appears that the only thing operating is the St. Josephs Catholic Church, its private Catholic School across the street, and the post office which is next door to the Gallery has been doing business since 1919. Back in the heydays of Route 66, it was not at all uncommon to see Indians sitting along the roadway selling pottery.
I ride for a short spell and pass Villa de Cubero. Cubero is a small community west of Albuquerque and located in the shadow of Mt. Taylor . Ernest Hemmingway lived there for a short period of time writing his classic novel ‘Old Man and the Sea.” The Trading Post is still open and serves the local community. Not much is noted about this tiny community along Route 66 except that it serves travelers with a gas station, a store and most notably the Sky City Casino. I stop here to have breakfast. I meet Bernice, my waitress. She and a couple of waitress stare at me walking in from the back of the restaurant. They bring attention to me and before you know it every set of eyes are looking at me. I stop with a smile look back and proceed to ask if I can bring my bike inside. Bernice answers yes, if it will fit through doors. I reply yes. With a surprised look she says “I have to see this”. When I return with my bike she and the other waitress’s bust up laughing. I lean the bike against the wall and sit. Bernice comes over with a big smile and said she and the others had bet weather I could get the bike inside. “We thought you were riding a motor bike “and so a new friend was acquired. Bernice with a smile took my order and served my coffee and ensured I was comfortable. When finished, I asked her how far Albuquerque was? She said about 35 miles. You should be there in less than an hour. I looked at her and said the bike didn’t have a motor. She laugh and said okay, two and half hours. You call me when you get there. We want to know you got there safe. I assured her it would take me at least three and half hours and she would get a call from me. They all said good bye and for me to have a safe trip, while I walked out. It’s nice to know people care especially when you’ve just met them.
I’m back on the road again going to places that I’ve never been. The land beyond the roadside remains sporadic with cacti and sage. Horses and cows are prominent on the plains, but more impressive again are the mesas which give the definition and character of New Mexico . There are patches of green strands which stand firm yet bend softly when the wind blows the tips giving the same waving movement as tall wheat when ready to harvest. They call it Buffalo grass. I’m riding the Acoma Valley .
ACOMA INDIAN RESERVATION
This pueblo was established during the 12th century and is home to the Acoma Indians. It is considered one of the oldest inhabited communities in the United States . Access to the area is difficult because of the mesas are very sheer, and in early times the only access was through staircases cut in the stone. It is believed that the name of the Acoma actually means people of the White Rock.
In 1598 the Spanish conquistadors under orders from the King of Spain, invaded New Mexico and used it as a staging ground for raids on the local native Americans. According to the Acoma oral tradition the Spaniards weighed much more than the average Acoma , and the Spaniards also brought with them attack dogs which they believed were trained to feed on human flesh and trained to eat humans alive. The Acoma lost the Battle of Acoma and this local tribe was reduced from 2000 people to less than 250 survivors. The survivors were sent to Santa Domingo Pueblo, all the surviving children under the age of 12 were taken from the parents and given to the Spanish missionaries to raise, but most of them were sold into slavery. The warriors were tried under Spanish law for treason found guilty. Their left foot was cut off as punishment.
Today the Acoma continue to maintain their values, culture and investments in education, health care and social programs. As of 2009 censes the Acoma population has emerged to 7756 .
NOTE: NOTE: In 1502 our ancestor Juan Martin landed in Honduras with Columbus fourth voyage and settled in Zacatecas. Having a son Hernan Martin who in 1529 was a member of the Human Expedition which explored the Rio Grande Valley. In 1599 Hernan Martin II was one of the soldier in the battle of Acuma. There’s much more to all of this but very confusing so I just wrote what connected us to the Martin clan. Juan Martin Is our great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great , great, great, great, grandfather. We’ve been here a long time.
Route 66 begins to change. The road and terrain reminds me of the clip in the animated movie “Cars” when Lightning McQueen is driving through the plains and into the valleys where the sagebrush is thick, the mountain cliffs are red, brown and white. Portions of mountain erosion leave behind rocks sitting on top of rocks as if put there as a balancing act. (picture) The railroad tracks appear once running parallel with the road again. It reminds me of a time when a means of travel was limited. It was at these close distances when people traveling with all their belongings tied down to their trucks on Route 66 were close enough to see the faces of the more fortunate travelers on the train. A moment when class division was acknowledge. Not far up the road, Laguna.
I come to Laguna the halfway point, where I snack on a sandwich and liquids. Laguna is rich in Native American History and home to the Laguna Indians who have inhabited it since the 1300s. When the Spanish arrived in the 1500s they discovered that the Laguna Indians were well established with agriculture and their own system of self government. In 1699 the Spanish recognized the pueblo as one of the largest in the area. Today I-40 passes through the tribal lands, but originally Route 66 cut through the heart of the 42 square mile area. If you drive through this area on Route 66 it is like stepping back in time, but there are words of caution not to take pictures in this area as it is generally not allowed by the local tribe without permission. (picture).
Shortly after Laguna I leave Route 66 and enter I-40. Along the highway the terrain becomes volcanic rock on my right side and mesa cliffs on the left. (picture) Visibility is limitless and clear. What is striking are the cacti growing from the crevasse of the lava rock. (picture) The terrain becomes similar to that of Arizona with rolling hills. I come to the end of the rolling hills and descend to my destination -- Route 66 Casino Hotel. While descending the view is endless. Mt. Sandia and the valley of Albuquerque are stretched from the north to the south horizon, the beauty and heart of New Mexico .
ALBUQUERQUE
Albuquerque is the largest city in New Mexico and straddles the Rio Grande . About half the people of New Mexico live in Albuquerque . It is the home of the University of New Mexico , the Petroglyph National Monument and the Sandia Mountains . Cork trees dominate the landscape and is considered the center of the Spanish cork industry.
It is generally believed that the village was named for the governor Don Francisco Cuervo y Valdez in honor of one of the Spanish aristocrats of the 1600s, whose title was the Duke of Albuquerque. Another explanation for the name of the town was that it was derived from the Spanish word for apricot - albaricoque. The apricot was brought to the Spanish settlement possibly as early as 1700s.
Albuquerque was a farming community and a strategically located military outpost along the Camino Real during the 1700s. Spain had a military presidio in 1706 and later Mexico in 1821. The town was built in the traditional Spanish village pattern – a central plaza surrounded by government buildings, home and a church. After the Americans occupied New Mexico there was a federal garrison from 1846 to 1867. During the Civil War it was occupied by the Confederate Troops.
1900s Albuquerque ’s dry climate brought hundreds of tuberculosis patients in search of cure and several sanitariums were opened to treat them, which eventually led to a thriving medical industry.
The first travelers on Route 66 appeared in Albuquerque in 1926 and with it dozens of motels, restaurants and gift shops to serve them. Route 66 originally ran through the city on a north-south alignment along Fourth Street , but in 1937 it was realigned along Central Avenue in a more direct east-west route. The intersection of Fourth and Central downtown was the principal crossroads of the city for decades. The majority of the buildings from the Route 66 era are on Central, though there are still some on Fourth Street .
When the Atchison , Topeka and Santa Fe Railroad arrived in 1880 it actually bypassed the main Plaza by about 2 miles, and the new area became known as New Albuquerque. New Albuquerque was incorporated as a town in 1885, and the Old Town remained a separate community until the 1920s when it was absorbed by the City of Albuquerque .
New Albuquerque quickly became a popular southwestern town. By 1900 it had over 8,000 people and had all the modern amenities including an electric street railway connecting Old Town to New Town and the University of New Mexico . In 1902, the famous Alvarado Hotel was built next to the train depot and it was symbol of the City until it was torn down in 1970. In 2002 the Alvarado Transportation Center was built on the site resembling the old landmark. Today the population of Albuquerque is 820,000
I check in once again head straight to the Jacuzzi, a feast for the famished and enough fatigue to keep me out until the morning sunrise. I will be visiting with my primo’s and prima’s for the next 5 days. I will resume my ride to my next destination, Santa Fe , about May 12th after much needed rest and family companionship. (After such a rest I hope I can still ride).
Take care, Love ya all
Old Man in the Land of Enchantment
5-06-10
Grant to Albuquerque 68 miles
I’m still very tired and stay in bed. I get the nudge letting me know that my breakfast and coffee are served and waiting for me. I open my eyes and smell fresh perked coffee. Without any effort I’m dressed eat a great meal and ready to ride. Suddenly I feel a burning sensation running up and down my legs. It’s difficult to move them but I keep trying. They start to feel numb and with one last burst of effort they move; I turn onto my left side and see the clock. It’s 6 am. Dreaming again. I do get up this time, dress and go get a cup of coffee at the front desk. I ask the two house cleaning clerks about the road conditions on Route 66 and the distance to Albuquerque . They tell me around 75 miles and that the roads are good, but once I pass Sky City Casino there will be no services. Sky City is 15 miles out of Grant. So I leave a little wary of what to expect. Fortunately the day will be good with winds at 20 mph to my back, clear skies with a camelback and four full bottles of water. All with a smile. What more could I ask for. Mmmmmm a motor on my bike! I’m ready Freddy.
I return to my room, fix myself a bowl cereal and decide I would stop at the casino for a full breakfast. I leave at 7am and onto Route 66 I go. After a couple of miles I see something that has been consistent along both sides of the road. Glass and plastic bottles, aluminum cans, and debris of all sorts. As an outsider I wonder why a State with so much land and a people with a great spirit of preservation and a connection to everything around them would let it be littered. There is a TV commercial In California of an Indian with tears falling from his eyes as a full forest passes by before him being destroyed by careless actions of man, and billboards promoting the need to protect the land from waste and litter. Of all places this State represented by several Indian tribes should promote the same desire to protect their beautiful State. I haven’t seen anything saying “Please don’t litter”. Politics!
I come to small sleepy community and hear Dogs barking up ahead. As I get closer I see a woman behind a six foot chain link fence holding a shepherd back. There is a sign that says (Gallery 66 San Fidel). The Gallery is old but well preserved with a wooden porch and glass door. To the right is a well manicured garden path lined with rocks which you to fruit trees and various plants from the area. Sitting to the back is a adobe building which appears inhabited. I wave at the person as I pass and don’t get far when I decide to return. I roll up on my bike and say “Good Morning” and in reply she offers the same. I say, “I see you have an art gallery, is it open?” She says, “Yes.” I return, “I wasn’t sure because the gate was locked.” She looked a little reluctant and proceeded to unlock the gate and said the dogs would not bite. I comment on her garden, how well manicured it was and its warm appearance. She asks if I would like to come in, and I reply yes. She says to bring the bike in, and follows up with, I’ve seen cars broken down and the owners leave only for them to come back to a car that is stripped. So I roll my bike in, she locks the gate behind and she proceeds to inform me of her adventures to New Mexico . She was originally from Maine , an accomplished designer and actress and has resolved herself to be an artist. She acquired the land with a friend seven years ago, fell in love with the environment and did not acquire any knowledge of the people until after the purchase. She and her friend renovated the building which has since become a Registered National Historic Landmark, and guided me through on a tour of the building. Starting from the rear she worked her way to the front. The rooms were filled with antique artifacts and many items which were left on the property, all separated by category of material – glass, wood, steel, metal, and rock. In the middle of the room was a work table which had projects in progress. Her work consisted of natural items, such as wood branches, leaves, dirt combined with the artifacts, some antique, some up to date, created tabletops of broken Indian pottery of coordinated colors, frames of metal stretch wrist bands which were acquired by a friend who owned a watch shop. The bands were cut at length and glued to wrap around the frame vertically and horizontally, very unique. With pride she showed me articles of local news writings she proudly boasted as her 15 minutes of fame. She was rather eccentric in explaining with emotion and hand gestures, but more importantly a love for the work. Her name was Mary Trask. She spoke of the many travelers on bike who have stayed in the building from various parts of the world, individuals who needed shelter which she offered. With that she proceeded to guide me to the back where there was an adobe building which was once a motel with several rooms when Route 66 was active. She stated that the opening to the right with adobe bricks around it was the remnants of the other half of the hotel. She opened the door into the existing building where a room has been set up with a bed, a wooden rocking chair and other small furnishings. She stated some of the individuals that traveled through stayed in the room, and the other half of the building was her pottery room. Again these rooms had antique artifacts and the tools used for her artwork. I inquire about the chain link fence being six feet high. She laughs and says, “Protection from vandalism.” She said unfortunately the people of the community do not take pride in their property as you see, and in looking around I had to agree. There were several broken down cars, unkempt yards, doors and windows hanging as if no one occupied the homes. When I asked why, she said, “Don’t ask that question too loud. They tend to be very defensive about any intrusive questions regarding the way they live.” I asked to take a picture, and she was somewhat reluctant but permitted it when I told her it was something that only I would have. It would go into a journal regarding my travels. I realized an hour had already passed and I let her know my appreciation for her time and her artwork. I inform her on the way back I will stop again. So with that I rode my bike back out on the street and wave goodbye.
San Fidel is a small community that includes a number of picturesque buildings. Though there are still people that live here, San Fidel is long past its prime. In the old days there were a number of cafes and automobile services in this fading town. However, today it appears that the only thing operating is the St. Josephs Catholic Church, its private Catholic School across the street, and the post office which is next door to the Gallery has been doing business since 1919. Back in the heydays of Route 66, it was not at all uncommon to see Indians sitting along the roadway selling pottery.
I ride for a short spell and pass Villa de Cubero. Cubero is a small community west of Albuquerque and located in the shadow of Mt. Taylor . Ernest Hemmingway lived there for a short period of time writing his classic novel ‘Old Man and the Sea.” The Trading Post is still open and serves the local community. Not much is noted about this tiny community along Route 66 except that it serves travelers with a gas station, a store and most notably the Sky City Casino. I stop here to have breakfast. I meet Bernice, my waitress. She and a couple of waitress stare at me walking in from the back of the restaurant. They bring attention to me and before you know it every set of eyes are looking at me. I stop with a smile look back and proceed to ask if I can bring my bike inside. Bernice answers yes, if it will fit through doors. I reply yes. With a surprised look she says “I have to see this”. When I return with my bike she and the other waitress’s bust up laughing. I lean the bike against the wall and sit. Bernice comes over with a big smile and said she and the others had bet weather I could get the bike inside. “We thought you were riding a motor bike “and so a new friend was acquired. Bernice with a smile took my order and served my coffee and ensured I was comfortable. When finished, I asked her how far Albuquerque was? She said about 35 miles. You should be there in less than an hour. I looked at her and said the bike didn’t have a motor. She laugh and said okay, two and half hours. You call me when you get there. We want to know you got there safe. I assured her it would take me at least three and half hours and she would get a call from me. They all said good bye and for me to have a safe trip, while I walked out. It’s nice to know people care especially when you’ve just met them.
I’m back on the road again going to places that I’ve never been. The land beyond the roadside remains sporadic with cacti and sage. Horses and cows are prominent on the plains, but more impressive again are the mesas which give the definition and character of New Mexico . There are patches of green strands which stand firm yet bend softly when the wind blows the tips giving the same waving movement as tall wheat when ready to harvest. They call it Buffalo grass. I’m riding the Acoma Valley .
ACOMA INDIAN RESERVATION
This pueblo was established during the 12th century and is home to the Acoma Indians. It is considered one of the oldest inhabited communities in the United States . Access to the area is difficult because of the mesas are very sheer, and in early times the only access was through staircases cut in the stone. It is believed that the name of the Acoma actually means people of the White Rock.
In 1598 the Spanish conquistadors under orders from the King of Spain, invaded New Mexico and used it as a staging ground for raids on the local native Americans. According to the Acoma oral tradition the Spaniards weighed much more than the average Acoma , and the Spaniards also brought with them attack dogs which they believed were trained to feed on human flesh and trained to eat humans alive. The Acoma lost the Battle of Acoma and this local tribe was reduced from 2000 people to less than 250 survivors. The survivors were sent to Santa Domingo Pueblo, all the surviving children under the age of 12 were taken from the parents and given to the Spanish missionaries to raise, but most of them were sold into slavery. The warriors were tried under Spanish law for treason found guilty. Their left foot was cut off as punishment.
Today the Acoma continue to maintain their values, culture and investments in education, health care and social programs. As of 2009 censes the Acoma population has emerged to 7756 .
NOTE: NOTE: In 1502 our ancestor Juan Martin landed in Honduras with Columbus fourth voyage and settled in Zacatecas. Having a son Hernan Martin who in 1529 was a member of the Human Expedition which explored the Rio Grande Valley. In 1599 Hernan Martin II was one of the soldier in the battle of Acuma. There’s much more to all of this but very confusing so I just wrote what connected us to the Martin clan. Juan Martin Is our great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great , great, great, great, grandfather. We’ve been here a long time.
Route 66 begins to change. The road and terrain reminds me of the clip in the animated movie “Cars” when Lightning McQueen is driving through the plains and into the valleys where the sagebrush is thick, the mountain cliffs are red, brown and white. Portions of mountain erosion leave behind rocks sitting on top of rocks as if put there as a balancing act. (picture) The railroad tracks appear once running parallel with the road again. It reminds me of a time when a means of travel was limited. It was at these close distances when people traveling with all their belongings tied down to their trucks on Route 66 were close enough to see the faces of the more fortunate travelers on the train. A moment when class division was acknowledge. Not far up the road, Laguna.
I come to Laguna the halfway point, where I snack on a sandwich and liquids. Laguna is rich in Native American History and home to the Laguna Indians who have inhabited it since the 1300s. When the Spanish arrived in the 1500s they discovered that the Laguna Indians were well established with agriculture and their own system of self government. In 1699 the Spanish recognized the pueblo as one of the largest in the area. Today I-40 passes through the tribal lands, but originally Route 66 cut through the heart of the 42 square mile area. If you drive through this area on Route 66 it is like stepping back in time, but there are words of caution not to take pictures in this area as it is generally not allowed by the local tribe without permission. (picture).
Shortly after Laguna I leave Route 66 and enter I-40. Along the highway the terrain becomes volcanic rock on my right side and mesa cliffs on the left. (picture) Visibility is limitless and clear. What is striking are the cacti growing from the crevasse of the lava rock. (picture) The terrain becomes similar to that of Arizona with rolling hills. I come to the end of the rolling hills and descend to my destination -- Route 66 Casino Hotel. While descending the view is endless. Mt. Sandia and the valley of Albuquerque are stretched from the north to the south horizon, the beauty and heart of New Mexico .
ALBUQUERQUE
Albuquerque is the largest city in New Mexico and straddles the Rio Grande . About half the people of New Mexico live in Albuquerque . It is the home of the University of New Mexico , the Petroglyph National Monument and the Sandia Mountains . Cork trees dominate the landscape and is considered the center of the Spanish cork industry.
It is generally believed that the village was named for the governor Don Francisco Cuervo y Valdez in honor of one of the Spanish aristocrats of the 1600s, whose title was the Duke of Albuquerque. Another explanation for the name of the town was that it was derived from the Spanish word for apricot - albaricoque. The apricot was brought to the Spanish settlement possibly as early as 1700s.
Albuquerque was a farming community and a strategically located military outpost along the Camino Real during the 1700s. Spain had a military presidio in 1706 and later Mexico in 1821. The town was built in the traditional Spanish village pattern – a central plaza surrounded by government buildings, home and a church. After the Americans occupied New Mexico there was a federal garrison from 1846 to 1867. During the Civil War it was occupied by the Confederate Troops.
1900s Albuquerque ’s dry climate brought hundreds of tuberculosis patients in search of cure and several sanitariums were opened to treat them, which eventually led to a thriving medical industry.
The first travelers on Route 66 appeared in Albuquerque in 1926 and with it dozens of motels, restaurants and gift shops to serve them. Route 66 originally ran through the city on a north-south alignment along Fourth Street , but in 1937 it was realigned along Central Avenue in a more direct east-west route. The intersection of Fourth and Central downtown was the principal crossroads of the city for decades. The majority of the buildings from the Route 66 era are on Central, though there are still some on Fourth Street .
When the Atchison , Topeka and Santa Fe Railroad arrived in 1880 it actually bypassed the main Plaza by about 2 miles, and the new area became known as New Albuquerque. New Albuquerque was incorporated as a town in 1885, and the Old Town remained a separate community until the 1920s when it was absorbed by the City of Albuquerque .
New Albuquerque quickly became a popular southwestern town. By 1900 it had over 8,000 people and had all the modern amenities including an electric street railway connecting Old Town to New Town and the University of New Mexico . In 1902, the famous Alvarado Hotel was built next to the train depot and it was symbol of the City until it was torn down in 1970. In 2002 the Alvarado Transportation Center was built on the site resembling the old landmark. Today the population of Albuquerque is 820,000
I check in once again head straight to the Jacuzzi, a feast for the famished and enough fatigue to keep me out until the morning sunrise. I will be visiting with my primo’s and prima’s for the next 5 days. I will resume my ride to my next destination, Santa Fe , about May 12th after much needed rest and family companionship. (After such a rest I hope I can still ride).
Take care, Love ya all
Old Man in the Land of Enchantment
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Day 14 - Gallup to Grants Pass (73 Miles) 'Discoveries Galore'
Day 14
5-05-10
Gallup to Grants 73miles
Another morning and I feel Grrrrrrrreat. It’s amazing what a day’s rest can do for the body. I leave in good spirits and roll onto Rt.66 watching the sun rise in front me. Weather prediction 75 degrees with light winds from the SW. Unlike Holbrook the folks here were up before me. Cars, trucks, buses filled with people are moving everywhere very fast. I manage to dodge a few of the vehicles who don’t see me but I don’t mind, after all I’m in their back yard. What’s funny is that they are in a hurry to get to their destination and when they get there, they’re very relaxed and don’t seem to let anything bother them. They are attentive with their patrons and are very eager to help or do what it takes to keep them happy. Very laid back.
The mesa has been following me for 16mi and I can see they stretch a long way in the direction I’m traveling. I come to Red Rock State Park and Church Rock. They stand as bold as they were when the earth push them up from the ground thousands of years ago with single towers molded by nature’s rain and wind giving an appearance of separation yet they are one. Walls jetting in and out with vertical grooves cut inconsistently by a master clay artisan knowing they would add to their beautify. There is green vegetation hanging loosely to the walls, offsetting the stark red background. They are beautiful and belong to New Mexico. Before entering I-40, I pass a sign Ft. Wingate
Ft. Wingate is a historic Military Reservation on I-40/Route 66. It was originally a trading post in 1860 and then a full-fledged fort in 1862. Civil War soldiers were posted there and it functioned as a place for doing military surveys, escorting those that needed it and protection against the raiding Indians. The most famous soldiers associated with Ft. Wingate were Kit Carson, John “Black Jack”Pershing, General Douglas McArthur and several Navajo Code Talkers. In 1914 the fort housed Mexican Federal troops and their families who were fleeing from the Pancho Villa uprising. Today Ft. Wingate is still an active base and is sometimes involved as a rocket launching test site.
The last 16 miles past with a wonderful change. As I climb higher the mountains are growing thick with green vegetation surrounded by boulders and falling slabs that have separated themselves from the mountain base. It seems to be getting cooler and as I reach the top of the pass a sign reads (Continental Divide next exit). The elevation is 7,275 feet. At this point rainfall divides. To the West it drains into the Pacific Ocean…and to the East into the Atlantic. I get happy because this means I get to coast down on the other side and I know that this is the half way point to Grant. I stop to, take pictures and have lunch on the trading post porch. I leave ready for my downhill joy ride but find that it’s not all down. They decided to stair case it with the landing much longer the rise. So needless to say I was peddling a lot of the downhill of which I thought would be a restful reward for my uphill efforts. There are a couple of small communities I pass through before arriving to Grant. THOREAU AND BLUEWATER
Thoreau the name of the town, according to many, came from Henry David Thoreau, the famous writer and philosopher. The Native American Culture and history is strong and it is a local trading center for artisans selling their weaving, sand paintings, silver jewelry, pottery and turquoise jewelry. There are also several Anasazi archeological sites in the Chaco Canyon.
Bluewater, a town just east of the Continental Divide, is named for the Bluewater Lake located in Bluewater Canyon. In 1850 a Frenchman by the name of Martin Boure had a farm above the lake (the ruins are still there) and was the beginning of the settlement of Bluewater Valley. Artifacts have been recovered from this area dating back as far as 600 ad and included stone tools, beads and ceramics linked to the Anasazi.
Finally, I arrive into Grants. The terrain went through a change that made the last half tough. Everything went dry and vegetation sparse. The heat intensified and with the heat at my back, I wasn’t pushing much air causing my natural cooling system to malfunction. I had to make several stops for water and let the wind cool me. All I wanted to do was eat, drink and sleep, which I did.
Grants was established in the 1880s when three Canadian brothers were given the contract to build a section of the new Atlantic and Pacific Railroad. The brothers first called the town Grants Camp, then Grants Station and finally Grants. Grants is located on the north end of a large lava field known as “El Malpais” (the badlands). A little west of the City is the Continental Divide and the Zuni mountains. This area is high desert with sandstone and lava flows.
Originally the town’s major economic base was the railroad logging in the nearby Zuni Mountains and was a major train stop for the Atlantic and Pacific Railroad. The town prospered as a result of railroad logging in the nearby Zuni Mountains, and the timber was shipped to Albuquerque where there was a large sawmill where the wood was used for products that were shipped all around the west. It served as a section point for the Atlantic and Pacific, which became part of the Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fe Railroad Empire.
Probably the most memorable boom came to the town when a local Navajo shepherd by the name of Paddy Martinez discovered uranium ore near Haystack Mesa. This created a mining boom that lasted until the 1980s, but once the mining business collapsed the town went into a depression. Rt66 Tourism is still a strong base for the economy.
There you have it. One more history lesson, not extensive just enough to give a little insight.
Tomorrow Grant to Albuquerque
Take care Love ya all
Old man burning.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Day 13 - Holbrook to Gallup - 'Inspired' 05/03/10
Day 13
5-03-10
Holbrook to Gallup
This morning came very early due to a restless night’s sleep. My concerns were how many available services would be operating for this section of the journey. My map shows several, but the information I get from locals invalidate the map. My only alternative is to ride into Gallup if the sources are right. I decide an early start will be to my advantage if the day is long. So, 6 am I leave Holbrook with clear skies, no clouds whatsoever and big red beaming down warming the earth and me in 28 degree weather. I am surprised the streets are not more active with Monday morning traffic. At this time in the morning Holbrook is a ghost town. One truck passes me as I enter I-40. I climb for two miles, the first of many as I was told “rolling hills” and stop to take a picture of the desert and its horizon. There’s very little vegetation, and I think the trip will not be as pleasant as my past days of riding due to the lack of character this land mass is showing at this moment. I think for a while and realize something is missing. Wildflowers. I have not seen any for some time. (picture) I come to a bridge that breaks the monotony of the vast emptiness of this desert. It’s a wash with some green vegetation and rock formation. I hit the road another 15 miles. I come to an area that was either originally a part of the Petrified Forest or, in likelihood, a predetermined tourist attraction. Off to a distance lay remnants of petrified wood lying but not in a natural way. At mile 25 I take the off ramp to the Petrified Forest Visitors Center.(picture) Fortunately for me they have a café, and I decide to get a bite to eat and maybe even take a sandwich with me. I sit around for a while and then browse the Visitor and gift shop. The cost to enter the Petrified Forest is 10 dollars a car. I thought about riding in myself, but decided an extra 6 miles would be detrimental to my getting to my destination. So I leave after packing the sandwich in my front bag that has my Advil, my Tylenol, high blood pressure, Advair, vitamins, Biofreeze (for the muscles) and Cliff Bars. And off I go, happy as a pig in ____. I’m ready Freddy. I think to myself how funny to be riding with a destination in mind knowing the possibilities that it may be 12 hour or better day’s ride, and I’m still happy. I see a sign coming and the closer I get the bold lettering reads Goodwater ½ mile and as I get closer I can read the sign below. It says No Services, and I start to laugh. I come to the conclusion then and there that this happiness will have to stretch for at least 12 hours. I notice a road running parallel to the I-40 which I’m on, and up ahead a wooden bridge. I stop for a picture and look east in the direction of that road and see buildings. I believe this is part of the old 66. (picture). Sure enough a vacant old A-frame building with a sign painted Old Stage Station sits with at least a dozen old vehicles and a sign “Parts for Sale”. I’m sure this station served a great many individuals passing in a time when the road I am riding was mere dirt and sagebrush. (picture) The road dead ends a half mile up. This is a common sight as I continue up I-40 to Chambers which, sadly to say, had no services of any kind. An abandoned gas station and next to it was a Best Western Hotel up for auction.
Chambers, Sanders and Navajo are all part of Apache County, which also contains parts of the Navajo Indian Reservation, Fort Apache Indian Reservation, the Petrified Forest National Park, and Canyon de Chelly National Monument. Apache County, created in 1879, has the most land designated as Indian Reservation in the United States. Large herds of cattle and sheep roam over the mesas and the fertile valleys. The Navajo Indians, 150,000, occupy most of the Northern part of the county and, in fact, drive their cattle over most of the county to wherever the grazing is better, which is typically the southern part.
That was your history for Chambers. Now my history. I have to ride another 45 miles to Gallup. After resting and eating my packed sandwich with some of my beef jerky, trail nuts and water I get along with a refreshed mind and an energized smile. My legs are saying please, and I ‘m saying, legs please please me just a little longer. I’m glad these rollers are short and the flats are long. Sanders brings me emptiness. It’s not until I get to the small community of Houck that I take a short break at the gas station convenience store. Next to it is a trading post, something that is becoming very common as I get closer to the New Mexico border. Not much said about either Sanders or Houck, for that matter the next town I hit, Lupton which has a Route 66 diner (picture), a community store and another trading post. From here I’m on I-40 and stop periodically for picture taking. The terrain has changed quite drastically. The mountains of red rock, dense in some areas and sporadic in others of trees and green vegetation. I finally come to a Welcome to New Mexico sign and 20 more miles to go. I take them slow and easy enjoying the descents and the cool breeze. I am feeling tired but again thankful for the 70 degree weather and although many relatively easy rollers.
Note: I said earlier the terrain and sky have a great deal to do with the enjoyment of the ride. They can even alter the balance of your mind. The earth is connected without interruption. Yes the ocean divides the exposed land mass but her fibers are finely woven to her core. Good, bad, beautiful, ugly its all the same. I had to adjust my mind to except it all because one without the other would create an imbalance of life’s circle. So as I ride this section of Arizona I must not allow my prejudices to interfere with this living painted canvas of color. Even here, a desolated desert, with empty blue skies. I smile, look around and say thank you.
I arrive into Gallup along the old Mother Road around 7:00 pm. I can say I was exhausted, yet my spirits of high energy with intensity has not diminished. I am hungry but decide to seek shelter first. I decided to lay over here in Gallup a day or two for rest. After a few attempts at hotels that I pass I finally find one with a room and a Jacuzzi. I am on an Indian Reservation.
Gallup was founded in 1881 as a railhead for the Atlantic and Pacific Railroad. The City was named after David Gallup, a paymaster in Gallup for the Atlantic and Pacific Railroad. The railroad workers began "going to Gallup" to get their pay; thus a town was born and named.
Many different ethnicities came to build the railroad, including Europeans, Asians and Mexicans and many of them stayed on to mine coal. Already native to the area were several tribes that are still in existence today including the Acoma, Hopi and Zuni Pueblo Indians. Today Gallup is known as the “Indian Capital of the World” as at least 1/3 of the community has Native American roots.
In the early days of Gallup for the most part it was a typical western frontier town, but in comparison to some of the other towns it was relatively quiet. Occasionally there was an Indian uprising, but the soldiers that were stationed at the nearby Fort Wingate kept things under control preventing any major attacks. Also most of the citizens carried guns until a new law in 1896 limited the practice.
Today, Gallup is the home to about 20,000 people, and serves as a trading area for more than six times that number. A steady stream of travelers who come to see some of the most unique and interesting wonders of the American Southwest. Route 66 runs through Gallup and the town is even mentioned in the Song Route 66. Gallup in general is a very poor community due to the many mine closures in the last century with no promise of any other economic development. Asking locals “What keeps Gallop alive?” their answer is the Reservation. Art work by Navajo, Zuni, Hopi, Acoma, and Pueblo Indians (Jewelry, blankets, rugs, metal art and Pottery. ) You see this in the number of trading post businesses. (In short, it’s the people and their tradition that keep it alive).
There is a Historic building called The El Ranch Hotel. It is the oldest building in town on the main route of 66 which has hosted many famous people such as John Wayne, President Regan, Humphrey Bogart, and Katharine Hepburn to say the least and ME. The building remains pretty much intact as it was back then, and I would recommend it as stopping point if passing through.
I have breakfast at a local restaurant and again it is absolutely wonderful to see and hear the beauty of their humility. Their language is soft and punctuated with a weight of emotion with every word. When they smile the glow for their life shines even on the aged faces of elders. (picture). These elders, Mary Ann Nish, Mary Jane Begay, and Alice James are asked about the changes they have seen. They answer it seem to be alright. We do not involve ourselves with the outside politics. We have our own political life and don’t care about the government. We live on our reservation (Menulito) on border of NM and AZ. Every day we bring water to our homes and work the fields We still use lanterns for light. Once a week we come into tow to buy groceries and eat here. It is very simple. They say water and electrical lines are being brought in but we don’t know what to do them. We laugh together. This is great. A big difference, my waitress who’s name is Charity is Navajo in school studying to be a nurse. (picture)
I leave with picture of my new friends.
Tomorrow Gallop to Grant I hope
Take Care Love ya all
Old man inspired by the simple
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