Partial cloud
45 miles
I got up at 8.15, availed myself of the inclusive breakfast at the motel, and arranged to stay for a second night so that I could spend the day in the Taos area. I returned into town and went first to the Kit Carson Home & Museum, home to the great mountain-man and pioneer between 1843 and his death in 1868.
Carson spent his early childhood in Missouri, but as a teenager he made his way out west to New Mexico. He used Taos as a base for several fur-trapping expeditions, gradually taking him further and further afield among the lands which would become the western USA. He married three times, twice to Native American women and finally to a Hispanic woman, with whom he purchased the house in Taos in 1843.
He guided some of the early pioneers across the Rockies, establishing what became known as the Oregon Trail, and took a leading role in the 1846 Mexican-American war. He returned to Taos and took up ranching, then became federal Indian Agent for the New Mexico territory, now part of the USA. During the Civil War he played a part in the skirmishes in New Mexico, but devoted much of his energies to fighting the Navajo in a long and brutal campaign.
The house offered various details and memorabilia of Carson's eventful life, including a replica trapper camp. Two rooms had been furnished supposedly to look as they would have done in Carson's time, the originals having been sold soon after his death, but in fact those setting up the museum in the 1950s had been mistaken and used a large number of furnishings from the Midwest.
I left to the nearby Kit Carson State Park, a somewhat litter-strewn area which contained the small cemetery in which Carson and his third wife are buried. I then made my way across town to the Blumenschein Museum, formerly home to the artist Ernest Blumenschein and his family. Blumenschein and another artist were travelling through the region in the 1890s when a wheel broke on their waggon, necessitating a stop in Taos for long enough to become fascinated with the region. His family settled in the area in 1919 when they purchased this sizable single-storey house, parts of which date back to 1797. The house had been restored to its 1930s appearance, decorated with many paintings by members of the family as well as other artists from the area.
I took a look at the town's church from the outside, but it appeared not to be open, then at a few souvenir shops before going to the Bent Street Cafe in the plaza for lunch. I had a so-called ``Rio Grande'' sandwich of pastrami and cheese, a little on the expensive side. I then returned to the motel to pick up the car for the afternoon's excursions.
My first stop was a few miles to the south of Taos in the village of Ranchos de Taos, at San Francisco de Asis Church. This attractive southwestern-style building has been the subject of many paintings over the years, including several by Georgia O'Keefe, who lived for much of her life in New Mexico. The age of the church seems to be the subject of some considerable debate, and it appears that all can be reliably determined is that it existed by 1815. I first looked inside the church, which boasts two large painted altar screens.
Across the road was a small hall, which contained a so-called ``mystery painting'', which I could see for a small charge. I was treated to a short video before seeing the painting itself, an 1896 painting of Christ bearing the cross by Henri Ault. Under normal illumination there was nothing out of the ordinary about the painting, but with the lights out the background appeared to glow, revealing the shadow of a figure and of the cross. The mystery behind the painting was the cause of this glow, which according to the video had been shown not to be caused by radioactivity, but other possible causes were not mentioned.
I next drove back through Taos and took a turning to Taos Pueblo, one of the best-kept pueblos of the region. My visit started off with a short tour from a resident guide, after which we were free to wander around for ourselves within the areas which were open to the public.
The pueblo buildings consist of two clusters of buildings, originally constructed some time between 1000 and 1450AD, on opposite sides of a small river. These buildings are built of adobe up to five storeys high, and until modern times had no doors or windows on the lower floors as a defensive measure, access being via a series of ladders. The river flows down from mountains on tribal lands, and is the sole source of water for the resident community, who have become immune to the micro-organisms within it.
The Pueblo people are largely Catholic but still adhere also to their traditional religious practices, which take place in large underground chambers known as kivas, and are closed to visitors. We were first shown the church of San Geronimo, then taken over to the tribal graveyard, in the centre of which stand the ruins of original church. This was originally built in 1619 but destroyed during the Pueblo Revolt, subsequently rebuilt, and destroyed again by US troops during the Mexican-American war, an act which claimed the lives of over 150 Pueblo people, including many women and children. Unsurprisingly the guide spoke of this with considerable bitterness.
We were then shown to the main buildings, in which a number Pueblo Indians live much as they have done for hundreds of years, without running water or electricity. One or two residences appeared to have bottled gas supplies, however -- not entirely in keeping with tradition. Many of the houses were open to the public, selling various local craftworks and traditional foods. I purchased a small pack of traditional Indian bread, which proved to be delicious.
Outside the core of the pueblo, which has World Heritage status, the buildings were more modern in appearance and contained the luxuries of modern life.
I returned to the main road and headed to the northwest to the bridge which took it across the Rio Grande Gorge. This bridge spans the 150m wide gorge some 200m above the level of the river. I was reminded of the crossing of the embryonic Grand Canyon at Marble Canyon in Arizona.
A few miles further on I stopped briefly to look at the ``Earthships'', a row of bizarrely-shaped eco-friendly dwellings in the middle of the desert. I was too late to see inside and contented myself with a quick look around the outside, slightly amused at the irony of the large SUVs parked outside such buildings. I then returned to the motel to rest for a while.
In the evening I had been planning to go to the restaurant next door to the motel, but it turned out to be closed Tuesdays. Instead I walked up the Paseo del Pueblo and chose to dine instead at a place named Doc Martin's (not to be confused with a boot manufacturer) in the upmarket Taos Inn. I chose to have roast duck for the main course, and followed this with profiteroles.
Halfway through my meal, an English couple arrived at the next table and we spent a while chatting. They had been living in Florida for several months and were undertaking a one month tour of the USA. In just six days they had driven some 3000 miles from Tampa (almost a third of their intended total distance), and were relieved that for once they were able to eat in a decent restaurant rather than in some fast-food establishment. They were particularly relieved to have survived unscathed a close encounter with a tornado while crossing Oklahoma, one of many which had been wreaking havoc across central and eastern states for a fortnight.
Afterwards I returned to the motel, decided on where to go during my last two days out west, and retired to bed around 11.40.