Four days in Santa Fe…

Atop the Atalaya Trail at 9,100 feet above Santa Fe. An elevation gain of nearly 2,000 feet. We slogged up snow the last 1,500. We learned the utility value of 'Yaks' too late in our trek to be of any help.

Reid is in India this week and next, traipsing in and around Bangalore.  Why he picked that spot is beyond me but that’s where he is for the duration of his odyssey.   If a kid is going to pull up stakes and travel, why not now when he has no life commitments beyond his job and rent and has a little change jingling in his pockets?  Everybody has a little bit of wanderlust and adventure in them.  He may have exceeded his supply.  By my count, he’s been to Mexico, Finland, Sweden, Russia, Australia, New Zealand, and maybe other nations I don’t know about.   Norway?

By comparison his old man had to settle for four days in Santa Fe.  But it was far from a booby prize.  As a getaway locale its pretty darn good if you like the Southwestern motif of food, culture, pervasive adobe structures and high-country desert.  I’ve been there more than several times and wonder if I blunt my own sense of wanderlust by not expanding my travel horizons with return trips to Bend, OR or Boise, ID or San Diego or sunnier, warmer spots.  I’m kind of Santa Fe’d-out for maybe the next half-decade or so.  You could do worse, however.

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Here’s what the kids received last week:

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February 13, 2012

Ellen/Reid: Reid, I hope this gets to you before you journey East (or do you go West to get to India?) and it has to be an enormous relief to have your visa in hand.  What a deal that would’ve been to go all that way only to be turned down at the customs office.  I cannot wait to hear about things and hope that you can get online as often as possible to send us your photos and your impression of things.  It is just wild that you are headed over there.  There was a book some time ago titled The Ugly American and it was about how in our arrogance we bullied some Southeast Asian banana republics into our way of thinking or some such thing.  You will be anything but.  What an experience.  Sure you don’t want to lug your old man along with you?

In lieu of your once-in-a-lifetime trek to India, Santa Fe had to do for us.  We had a great time.  The streets and byways come back to you after a little while, and we just had a low-key but fun four days.  Among the many places we dined and imbibed was Cowgirls (which if memory serves me, which it may not, was where we had BBQ there with you a few years ago), incredible wine at the 4 star Inn of the Anisasi, a couple of good visits to the La Fonda, Casa-something-or-other which was just a riot with a live flamenco dancer accompanied by an operatic singer.  It was really fun and the food was good, too.  I couldn’t tell you what we ate at El Farol but it was a wonderful meal.  That was the place a little bit south of the house you guys rented when you were there.   We stayed at a funky little B&B called the Inn on the Paseo.  Homey yet with good access to the Plaza.  We moseyed around the perimeter of the town square looking at Indian jewelry and the like and had a glass of wine now and again.  It’s a big art town and the cultural angle is kind of lost on me so 50% of the stores went unvisited.  It hadn’t changed a whole lot since the last couple of times I’d been there.

I suppose the other highlight besides gorging ourselves was a hike up the mountains to the east of Santa Fe.  Felicia found the alleged day hike online, and we literally went straight up nearly 1,800 feet on the Atalaya Trail.  The tourist info called it a ‘difficult’ climb but some other stuff I came across just this morning termed it strenuous.  It was accurate to say the least.  Whenever a trail sign offers two options, one being ‘Steepest’ and the other being ‘Easiest’, take the latter.  We opted for steepest, and while it was a challenge, we were in fine shape.  It wasn’t so much hiking as climbing.  We just weren’t mentally prepped for it.  Plus, we were on snow the entire last half and that made the going treacherous, but we did prevail and persevere, and after a few hours we made it to the top.    That’s where the cell phone photo came from.  It was unbelievable.  The few folks we did see sported a strap-on traction deal on their boots called ‘Yaks’ which were a poor man’s crampon.  Thus, we half-slid our way back down the mountain.  It was exhausting but well worth the ordeal.

We took the Turquoise Trail to Albuquerque and that was kind of a bust.  Of note was the town of Madrid, where the climatic street scenes from “Wild Hogs” were filmed.  So that was sort of fun.  We skirted Albuquerque in hopes of finding the desert but the shrubs and few cacti weren’t much different than what we saw around Santa Fe.  It ended up a waste of gasoline and precious time.

Ellen, let me know if you have questions about the bath thing.  Sounds arduous.  Tim’s demolition is really a huge part of it.  The other stuff should come together.  Just make sure you have your materials list in hand and the specific locations of where the shower, sinks, etc., are going to be.  Make sure the contractor gives you a daily report and a to-do list for the next day’s work.

Okay, guys, over and out.  Reid, do what you can to keep us filled in.  Can’t wait to hear all about it.

Maybe I should run a contest…

I don’t look at or subscribe to many other blogs.  Because when I do (which is weekly) it just deflates me.

There are some really good, really attractive blogs out there.  Mine isn’t one of them.  Blogs with good photography, great layouts and more readers than I can ever hope to capture.  It is a sign that while I enjoy the creative part, that creative part falls well short.  So does the promotion part.  I just don’t draw much traffic.  The blog folks warn that the entire process “is a slow build.”  At least I’ve got the slow part down pat.

Some of it is no doubt topical.   Maybe there’s A) just not a lot of gizz in letters, B) considerable fault that could be laid at the feet of the creative source, or C) all of the above.  If I had a vote, I’d go with C with a tilt toward B.

The nuances of a high-end blog are all Greek to me.  It’s like it is written in code – hey, it is written in code.  But that’s hardly an excuse.   It’s kind of like an all-around baseball player.  It’s not enough to be good at one thing.  To be recognized, you have to do it all – hit for average and power, drive in tons of RBIs, and play Gold Glove defense.  My blog continues to sit on the bench.

This is my 225th post.  You’d think I would know

I was at the mall last night, and saw the latest effort by Santa to milk every dollar out of the holidays.

better.  Maybe I should run a contest: best ideas to improve this blog.  I already won the other contest in a landslide: lamest blog of 2011.  Perhaps 2012 will be my year.

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December 12, 2011

Ellen/Reid: You guys have absorbed my best shot when it comes to Christmas presents.  It is more proof that gift giving is not necessarily my bag.  Nothing just jumps out in terms of what to send you, so I pick something and send it.  You’ll have to forgive the lack of imagination.   The bottom line is something is better than nothing.  To reiterate, beyond a CD that you can create with a mix of music, there is nothing I need nor want.  By the time you get this, UPS has assured me that your boxes will have been delivered.  If they don’t arrive, holler.

Good for you all to convene in Des Moines.  That should be a lot of fun.  Say hi to the crew, and give Nonnie a peck on the cheek for me.  The hip is going to be problematic for some time to come.  Hopefully she’ll spring back in good form.  I guess if you’re going to be laid up, the colder winter months aren’t a bad time to do it.  Things will be pretty quiet down here.  I can’t even remember going anywhere for Christmas (once at your grandparents?, maybe) since I’ve been down here.  It does no good to dwell on where one wants to be, you just roll with the punches.  Since the weather has a reasonable chance of being good, I might even hit the golf course if the temps are above 50F.  That’s close enough for me.  Scuttlebutt has it that Felicia and I may put a turkey in the oven on Christmas but that’s about the extent of our plans.  She was also on the receiving end of some utterly lame, totally predictable gifts.  Gift-challenged, I guess.  Since your uncle has put a moratorium on a gift exchange between me and him, I’m not getting much gift-purchasing practice.

This year I’ll kind of double dip on the Thanksgiving approach.  Once for the lives of your grandparents, your good tidings Ellen, your liking of Chicago and career, Reid, and of course, the health issues (which have stayed below the surface for the moment).  I’m able to look out my 3^rd floor home office window every day and see the birds and occasional deer, plus the sun and Carolina blue sky.  Ellen, your postcard was just adorable.  You two have a creative side when it comes to that sort of thing.  It proudly sits on the mantel along with all the other cards you’ve sent.  All of those are worth another word of thanks.  The only thing I don’t want to look at is the bathroom scale because there’s nothing to thank it for other than persistent “misreadings.”

I wrote the other day to Norm, my old editor at the A.P. to check in on how he’s doing.  I’d like to grease the skids for a get together up in New York since he was such a good guy to work with.  He’s been away from the A.P. Style Book side of the business for a few years now and I hope he’s holding up well.  He was also the main man on our ill-fated A.P. House of the Week feature in newspapers.  I wish that business had taken off.  Haven’t seen home plans in newspapers for a long time now.  I mention Norm because he gave me a shot and was ultra-good to write for.  For better or worse, and I think it was for the better, he was a big influence on my writing style.  I miss newspaper beat writing.

The Harley got a 45,000 mile checkup the other day plus new front and rear tires.  It’s ready for the road again.  The debate is whether or not to suck it up and trade the old girl on a new black Road King Classic.  Before I picked up the bike at the Statesville Harley dealer, I wondered if riding still had the same appeal.  I found on the 55 mile ride home that it does.  I just like to ride.  It’s still fun and exhilarating as it always has been.  Riding in groups doesn’t do anything for me.  Solo or with Felicia is about all I need.  Maybe if and when I retire I can do a Midwestern tour to see you guys.

Well, I gotta go back to work.  Hopefully the boxes will be at your doorsteps (Reid, I’m glad you liked the coat) in short order.  I’ll try to do a better job on gifts next year.  This year is a wrap.