The dry desert hills and mountains of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains give way to alpine peaks.

My former bandmate and excellent musician, Mike Kinney, just released an album that he called Wild Saints. What a great album name. High Road to Taos, also strikes me as a good album name. I’ll get right on it and compose some tunes.

The real 90 mile High Road to Taos Scenic Byway is yet another gorgeous road through the New Mexican mountains. It is dotted with a couple of QTs, but it is mostly the wild desert hill and mountain scenes of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains as it weaves in and out of the Carson National Forest.

Our first stop along the way was in the village of Chimayo. The main attraction, besides a scattering of art galleries, is the Santaurio de Chimayo, an adobe church complex. Built in 1816, it has become a pilgrimage destination due to the “healing dirt”. No kidding, in one tiny room in the church is a small hole in the floor where pilgrims can scoop up some sand.

There is also the Santo Nino de Atocha, a chapel for children, built in 1857. All the decorations inside were done for children over the decades.

The healing dirt room. Notice the floor in the next room. There is a small hole in the floor. There are a couple of trowels sitting there to help you scoop some of the dirt.

The 1857 chapel devoted to children.

I am a sucker for anything painted on a wall.

A few miles down the High Road brought us to another village, Las Trampas, with another adobe church. This church, built in 1760 doesn’t have healing dirt so it wasn’t as famous. However, the parishioners, over the centuries, periodically re-mud the adobe walls and they are now over 6 feet thick. These churches stand in stark contrast to the monolithic monster cathedrals we have seen in Europe, but they have their own gentle architectural charm.

The closer we got to Taos, the taller the mountains grew. Desert hills were replaced by tall pines and snow capped peaks.

Taos, a small city of 9000, is hard to describe. You enter the town along the typical long string street of familiar and boring franchised burger and taco joints, gas stations, and the like. Sonic is big in New Mexico.

The historic city center is pleasant. It radiates out from a large central plaza in the European fashion. All the stores, shops, and galleries are of the low single-story adobe style. It is touristy to be sure, but it is nice and artsy.

Kit Carson, a legendary figure of the Old West Taos, lived in these semi-restored buildings. One thing I learned and liked about Kit, was that he advocated for upholding the terms of the treaties with the Native Americans. That must have been kind of radical back then.

Taos is also a great starting point for the 84-mile Enchanted Circle Scenic Byway. This road goes through the heart of the northern alpine section of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains. A couple of passes reach 9000’ as the road snakes up and down the mountain sides.

We followed the Red River down a canyon into the ski resort town of Red River. Populated with lots of Swiss-style ski chalets, the town was just begging for winter to return. The ski lodge itself is situated right at the very bottom of a steep ski run with no flat area to slow down. I wondered how many novice skiers smacked face-first into that imposing building. I am sure that all skiers must sign a liability waiver before being allowed to use that ski run.

The Enchanted Circle Byway, with the snow capped mountains and alpine forest is quite a departure from the desert mountain scenery that we have gotten used to. The air was cool and crisp. The sun was warm gentle.

It was supper time when we rolled back into Taos. We found a tiny Mexican restaurant owned and operated by a cute young Hispanic couple. It meant eating meat again, but we thought it our duty to help out these nice young entrepreneurs. The combo steak and chicken fajita, the margarita, and the chocolate desert was 2-die-4.

What really impressed me was how the young mother handled her 6’ish year old boy. He wanted something and started tantrumming. He tried to hit mom, but she gently held him to her so his blows couldn’t get up any steam. She soothingly spoke to him until he could see that he wasn’t getting anywhere. It all took about two minutes and the kid was off playing on his own.

On the return trip to Santa Fe we drove a different highway that followed the Rio Grande River down a canyon. It looks a lot different than the lazy Rio that we waded in at Big Bend National Park. This part of the river was frisky, fast, and moving like no tomorrow. It just couldn’t wait to reach Big Bend.

Dave and Wanda

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