Saturday, 23rd May - Dandelion Jelly at the Farmers’ Market

We left for the Saturday Farmer’s Market at 07:10. This market, considered by some to be one of the top 10 in America, is held three times a week outside in summer with some vendors inside the tent. The venue is fairly new having opened last September in the renovated Railyard Park and Plaza. There’s plenty of parking and although the fee is normally $1.00 per hour, on Saturday morning we got 4 hours for our dollar.  Walking across the tracks of the Yard, we saw people already leaving with local produce such as leeks and garlic sticking out from their bags. It’s a real foodie lover’s place with unusual freshly picked vegetables, artisan breads, homemade soaps and jellies and incredible herbs, all grown locally.

It’s so tempting to buy lots of unusual items but our fridge is very small and I have to admit that I don’t cook a meal every day any more.  We can’t stock the tiny freezer with much either.  However, some things we just have to buy, like the homemade dandelion jelly made by Gayle Ice, who, with her husband, Ron, grow and make various jams and jellies amongst other items on their organic farm.  The samples, like crowder pea jelly, were interesting to taste. The crowder pea, also known as the black-eye pea or cowpea (I’m still wondering how that name came about) is well known in the southern states.  Not being very knowledgeable about weeds, such as the dandelion, I’m always amazed at what people can produce from flowers or plants such as dandelion leaves in salads. 

There was a sweet young girl of Mexican descent selling items from her stall while her Momma was elsewhere. We bought a small deep red colored corn cob decorated with red chili peppers and dried flowers which the young girl had made with her mother, who gathered and dried the flowers for the ornaments.  Chilies are said to protect people and  property and are so popular that strings of them are hung from porches as decoration and also traditionally known for many uses in medicine today.

 

The homemade breads were tantalizing. Varieties with wheat, rye, sprouted seeds, herbs, cheese, some sweet, many savory.  After tasting a small sample of the Anadama Bread, known to originate in New England and baked with cornmeal and sorghum molasses, I had to buy some from the wonderfully named “Intergalactic Bread Company”.  Did this name mean that their goodies were out of this world?  Maybe it had something to do with all the alien sightings seen in New Mexico - remember Roswell?  I didn’t find out but the bread was delicious.

Sometimes there are art and craft stalls at the market.  We are now proud owners of a small sized Micaceous pot from the Mudsoup Studio.  Aimee and Lee learned their craft from a Native American, an extremely well-known Apache called Felipe Ortega.  They are proud to carry on a tradition which has been part of the Indian culture for probably thousands of years.  It’s a process whereby the earth must be blessed before the clay is dug from the ground and a ceremony usually takes place beforehand to thank the earth for its bounty.  Aimee said that when they dug their clay, large muscled native men armed with pick axes and shovels must also be barefoot in respect of the land from which they take it. 

Once the clay, (which looked like small, hard rocks to me) is dug, it’s mixed with water and kneaded until pliable, then formed by hand into bowls, jugs, baking pots, mugs etc. covered with slip and then fired.  

Usually a soft orangy color, the change in coloring occurs during the firing process in a wood fire; the hotter the heat, the blacker the pot.   The clay is highly heat resistant and items were mainly utilitarian items used for cooking  directly on a fire or in an oven, but also for carrying water at least 400 years ago and probably longer.  The little pot we bought is additionally decorated with horsehair, which is thrown onto the sides when it’s taken from the fire, so seems to melt into the clay to make squiggly black lines on the surface. 

 

Friday, 22nd May - Day in Santa Fe

Santa Fe, a phrase meaning "Holy Faith" in Spanish. Although the weather didn’t look promising our plans didn’t change so drove straight into the city where the parking lots were full.  Of course, it’s Memorial Day weekend so probably lots more tourists and Santa Fe is apparently the 4th most popular destination in the country. It’s also the oldest capital city in the nation, with its Palace of Governors in the central Plaza celebrating its 400th year of continuous occupancy by various governments since 1610.  On Sunday, 24th May, there is a grand opening of a new History Museum celebrating “thousands of years of New Mexico’s rich history.”  Much of this is a mixture of Mexican, Native American and Spanish.

                                                               

Under the long facade of the covered Portal or porch of the Palace, Native Americans mostly from New Mexican Pueblos, are allowed to sell their goods.  There is a very strict code governing authenticity of the artisans’ crafts; each product whether it’s beadwork, sandpainting, silver jewelry, weaving, pottery or hand tooled leather, must have a maker’s mark and all of the handmade products must be made from traditional materials.  The spaces are free 360 days of the year but there are so many participants that we were told by one of the vendors that they use a lottery to determine who is allowed a space.  It’s a great place to walk through and talk to the people about their crafts and to know that if you buy something, it is absolutely authentic.

The city is rich in culture and the Official Visitors Guide contains a wealth of information.  I’ve never encountered so many art galleries on almost every street; fine art, abstract, sculptures, native crafts etc. The authentic adobe homes on the delightful Canyon Street now contain galleries of all types including many from other continents and has become world famous. The Opera brings in international singers during summer, there is a symphony orchestra, a chorale and about 7 museums. On the outskirts are casinos, plenty of outdoor activities and old towns to visit. No wonder it’s such a charming city.

Having just missed the midday tram tour, we walked around the square admiring the chic boutiques before we had lunch at the Blue Burrito Cafe. You can see the photo of an authentic New Mexican dish of a chicken filled blue corn burrito, a chalupa with some sort of bean mixture and two small containers of red and green chile sauces. 

Although it was near to rain and quite cold and cloudy, the tram tour lasted an hour and 20 minutes and our guide, Gary, gave us much history and was an excellent source of information. 

He explained that adobe is the material which was used centuries ago for constructing the Indian Pueblos and churches made of clay, sand and water with mostly straw to help hold it together. It was often made into the form of bricks and then dried. He told us that the word “adobe” is now used to refer to the city’s architecture and incorporates both Spanish and Native influences.  But, the most interesting story was that the city, in 1958, passed an ordinance requiring all buildings to be built no higher than 37 feet and “that the style must be of Southwestern type, either Spanish Territorial or Pueblo.” Such a delightful idea.

The advantage that we found was that there were no skyscrapers to block out the sun and it doesn’t appear like a huge city. The older buildings, we heard, were “grandfathered in”, a term in the U.S. which means that older structures were exempt from the new regulations.  

Where do people stay in their recreational vehicles?

Anywhere they’re allowed to including many State Parks, city fairgrounds, Walmart parking lots, out in the desert, down by lakes, Bureau of Land Management (BLM) or Corps of Engineer grounds - oh, and of course, campgrounds or very posh RV Resorts. A majority of these have golf courses, swimming pools, hot tubs, community halls, playgrounds, etc.  Most campgrounds have full or partial hook-ups with connections for electric, water and/or sewer lines and others have none at all.  

It’s not vital for us to have any facilities or even a laundry, as we have our own washer and dryer, but our favorite sites are ones with a lot of space around us and a good view.  We also prefer to have electricity for the use of an air conditioner in really hot weather or for our electric fire in the mornings when it’s really cold. Our rig is fully self-contained should we find ourselves one night with no campground available.

Is the American language the same as English?

If some of the words I use are different from what you expect, it’s because this blog is not only intended very much for our daughters, who always wonder where we are and what we’re doing, but also for my sister and family and friends in England. They aren’t used to all the Americanisms and terms used in the States, so some explanation is occasionally needed.

When my husband and I met, many long years ago now, I offered him a biscuit to have with his cup of hot tea.  He politely refused and was amazed when I took a cookie out of a tin for myself.  He was convinced I was a bit nutty offering him a biscuit and wondered why I hadn’t offered him a cookie. In the U.S. a biscuit is often eaten for breakfast with gravy or to accompany a meal. It hasn’t the same taste as a plain scone but looks similar.

Tuesday,19th May - San Antonio to Sante Fe

We’ve now reached an elevation of almost 4,500’ and temperatures are cooler in the morning.  Diesel was $2.19 a gallon where we stopped at a very small place called Lemitar and met a lively woman aged 44 from North Dakota standing by a shiny Harley Davidson. I commented to her about her magnificent bike and we chatted for some time. We had an immediate rapport, having lived in ND at Minot AFB, our first assignment in the States and where are first daughter, Elisia was born.

This lady and her fiance, aged 53, had got a great bargain when they bought the Harley. Her two young children were quite astonished that she would suddenly buy a motorbike  and decide to do a two week road trip across country ending up in Pheonix, but then parents often do surprise their offspring! On their recommendation, we stayed there for breakfast at the cafe; eggs, sausage patty, hash browns and toast - a good decision. 

When travelling to a new place, pulling the 5th wheel we try to keep our daily mileage fairly low and getting to Santa Fe was no exception, just 163 miles. We stop for breaks, but try not to drive 300 miles or more as some RVers do in one day. 

Unfortunately, the exit off I-25 to our next campground was closed due to road construction, so we pulled over as soon as possible to look at the map. It would have been so easy to follow our trusty GPS, but Missy, as we call the lovely, soft voice, who would normally guide us in the right direction, doesn’t understand that it’s impossible to “make a legal U turn” if we’ve missed the turning when we’re driving something the size of a truck (lorry).  My sister, Penny, could probably do a U-turn in a parking space with her Smart car but we’re 55’ long.

So, following the map and the little red triangle that denotes our truck on the GPS,  when we got to the road we wanted, a left turn was forbidden!  A few choice swear words from the navigator and returning to the map, we eventually found our way south again but, needing to turn left once more, we were thwarted by the sign of “No vehicles over 5 tons”.  We weigh about  12 tons.  Aagh! 

By this time I was thinking maybe we should look for another campground - glad we didn’t.  About 45 minutes later we pulled into the delightful “Sante Fe Skies”. This one had been recommended by our ex neighbor in Tucson, Berry, who lived in Santa Fe until she and husband, Gus, left 8 years ago to “full-time” in their fifth wheel.  Pleased that we heeded her advice we have a wonderful view stretching for miles to the far mountains, near the southern end of the Rockies across empty, open countryside spotted with juniper bushes and scraggly looking cacti.

 

This photo was taken from the door of our rig in the late afternoon when thunderclouds were forming over the desert. Streaks of rain which you can see in the photo, hang below the clouds then evaporate due to the dryness of the air before reaching the ground. This is called virga and is a very common occurance over desert-like regions.

The owners of this campground have lived in the area for 37 years and produce a weekly newsletter of currents events and good places to eat, etc.; so helpful.  With that and an excellent 2009 visitor’s guide, we can choose what to see and do during our time here.  We booked a week but will probably stay for two.  We are both happy that this city has a population of around 70,000, much smaller than Albuquerque, where we had thought of staying. 

Monday, 18th May - Deming to San Antonio (not the one in Texas)

Heading northeast next morning, we bypassed El Paso and cut off about 50 miles on a two lane highway, Route 26, through a huge valley, mainly agricultural with cattle ranches and isolated homes, some back from the road at least  2½ miles.  We passed only one small community at Nutt, with a motel named “Middle of Nowhere Motel” - I’m sure they thought so, but maybe they haven’t driven through the center of Nevada. 

Reaching Hatch, we stopped at the small town with the magnificent title of “Chile Capital of the World”  where small grocery stores were practically hidden by hundreds of dried red chilies hanging in bundles from poles underneath open huts. Chilies are the most famous crop of this State and each September, the town hosts a chile festival where one can buy fresh roasted green chilies and tempt your taste buds with green chili burgers. There are several spellings for the capsicums, but “chile” is the Spanish version used in Mexico and here.  Santa Fe is the only state we know of that has it’s own Official Question “red or green?”  The official answer “Christmas” gets you both types of chile.  

For much of the way Interstate 25 runs not far from the Rio Grande, a river with not much depth or volume.  It begins in Colorado, transverses New Mexico and forms the border between Texas and Mexico where it eventually empties into the Gulf of Mexico, if enough water remains. Despite it’s name, meaning “Big River”, and its being the fourth longest river system in the country, some ecologists worry about the lack of rainfall and overuse of its waters.

 

On the eastern side of the river beyond the mountains, is the largest military installation in the U.S. called White Sands Missile Range, encompassing about 275 square miles. White Sands is also known for its place in history as being the site of the world’s first atomic bomb explosion in July 1945. It now enfolds a Nasa Test facility and Fort Bliss military reservation, a truly incongruous name for a military testing site. There is an apparently wonderful space museum at Alamogordo, just too far for us to visit on this trip. The white sands stretch from El Paso for about 180 miles to just below the tiny community of San Antonio.  

Some of the American towns and cities have delightful names such as Truth and Consequences, a place we passed that day to reach “Bosque Birdwatchers RV Park” named presumably for nearby Bosque Del Apache Wildlife Refuge. It has just 38 spaces and is delightfully quiet with just the occasional soulful sound of a train’s whistle.  Quails (members of the pheasant family) abound in the park - they’re quite colorful, amusing birds with a little curly tuft on top of their heads and run so fast with their heads forward they almost seem to be gliding over the gravel.  

The lady owner of the campground is 84 years old and one of the permanent residents, aged 91, loves to cook. Howard asked if he ever brought her some of the meals and she said, “no, but he keeps inviting me over to his trailer for a meal, and I know the real reason he wants me up there.” She said that he keeps asking her to marry him, so she has to refuse the offer of a nice home-cooked meal.

Sunday, 17th May 2009 - Leaving Tucson

We’ve spent the last 6 months in Arizona. It hadn’t been part of our plans when we decided to tour the States in our new rolling home, but the expectations of such a journey and the reality are often poles apart.

My husband and I stayed in Tucson to help with the wedding of our beautiful younger daughter, Anthea, to Todd, which took place a month ago, on the 17th April.  Her equally beautiful elder sister, Elisia, flew from MA with her husband, Kevin to stay for 6 days during that time. I don’t say that they’re gorgeous just because we are very proud of our daughters; you can see for yourself from some of the photos I’ll be posting.

Our mileage has reached 24,388 in Rex, our rather long (22’) truck.  Just this morning my husband got a delightful comment from a complete stranger at the RV resort when we were due to leave: “your truck is by far the best looking one in the park” - wow, we felt the same way!  I never thought I’d love a truck so much, or that we’d ever be driving one until we had to, but we both think highly of Rex with its extremely comfortable creamy leather seats and deep burgundy paint job.  Not all of those miles were covered pulling our trailer; we unhitch, leave it behind and explore using the truck.  

The last couple of weeks in Tucson have been too hot for us; mostly 100°F (38C) so we were quite happy to move to cooler climes and higher elevations.  The mountains all around the city looked hazy as we travelled east through the wide desert area of cacti, small scrubby bushes and the pretty yellow blossomed trees.

Shortly after reaching the New Mexico state line, we stopped at the visitor center in Lordsburg for a free state road map, a free cup of coffee and several free brochures, particularly of Santa Fe, the capital, our next destination. The state’s motto is “Land of Enchantment” and we shall surely find out why.  

A few miles later we crossed the Continental Divide, which runs jaggedly from Canada through the Rockies down to Mexico.  Amid blue skies with wisps of cloud, the scenery changed to flat scrubland with small yucca plants where cattle grazed on tufts of flaxen colored grasses. By mid afternoon after covering 218 miles, we stopped for the night at Deming, about 30 miles north of the Mexican border.