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
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