The Turquoise Trail

The NC500 Part 3 – Adventures on Skye: Mountains, Rain, Whisky and Oysters

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With only two full days on the Isle of Skye, the largest of the Inner Hebrides islands, we were up before dawn and headed out to hike the Old Man of Storr. We had read so much about the Old Man of Storr trail being the most popular activity on Skye that it we thought it wise to get an early start. Several cars were already parked in the lot, still wet from an overnight rain, when we got our ticket from the parking kiosk.

Even in places you wouldn’t expect, paid parking seems to be everywhere across Scotland, and since it’s the UK there’s video surveillance too. At the unmanned attendant’s hut a note taped to the window advised of “less than ideal wet conditions” on the mountain. We had hoped for a clear morning, but the mountain was shrouded in mist.

The first short stretch of the trail was moderately steep and would have been easier if our heart rates were up, though the incline soon lessened after rounding several switchbacks. When the trail leveled, we turned around to survey how far we had climbed and were rewarded with a spectacular view of morning light, in golden rays, cascading through the clouds onto the Sound of Raasay.

It began to rain by the time we reached a set of rough stone steps that would have taken us higher up the slope, but the rocks were getting slippery, and we decided to turn back.

We thought the morning was cold and had suited up with several layers under our rain gear, and were totally surprised when several guys in shorts and just t-shirts, obviously vacationers from the Artic Circle, passed us on the trail, followed by a young couple carrying a toddler.

Even though we didn’t make it as far up the mountain as we would have liked, we enjoyed the views.

By the time we returned for breakfast at The Rosedale Hotel in Portree the clouds were clearing, and we were able to admire the view of the harbor from a window table.

Afterwards we walked along the waterfront, where the view across Loch Portree, with boats rocking at anchor, resembled New England waterscapes from the coast of Maine, in the United States.

Our plan for the day was to make several stops at scenic sites as we headed north from Portree along the coast of Skye’s Trotternish Peninsula. We decided to look for dinosaur footprints at An Corran Beach before turning west across the highlands to Uig, then continuing a southern loop back to Portree.

This time as we approached Old Man of Storr the morning’s mist had lifted, and the mountain’s rugged peaks were clearly visible. The parking lot was also completely full.

The one good thing about all the August rain was that the rivers were high, and the waterfalls were thundering furiously. We had to wait for a few minutes for parking space at the Lealt Fall View Point. Strong winds buffeted us as we walked out onto the viewing platform.

Actually, two waterfalls can be seen from this spot: one flowing from a stream called the Ford is directly across from the platform, while the larger one to the right cascades 90 feet down from the Abhainn An Lethuillt, the River Leath.

From the ridge above the gorge carved by the falls, we followed the water flowing to the sea. The wind on this headland was extremely ferocious and we were fine as long as we had our hoods up and turned our backs to it. But as soon as we turned around a gust of wind threw my hood back and blew my baseball hat off my head. Really, it wasn’t my hat – since I had lost my own, I had borrowed Donna’s this morning, while she was still sleeping. The red hat had a long and colorful history, and was a treasured companion that she had worn on many adventures. The salt in the wound was that it settled only about 12 feet out of reach, down a very steep grassy slope, too risky of a spot to try to retrieve it. Months later I am still hearing about how untrustworthy I am as a hat borrower. I’m a lucky guy if that’s the worst of her grievances. The vistas surrounding this area were beautiful regardless of the weather.

The sun was finally out when we stopped a little farther north at Mealtfalls where the waters of Loch Mealt spectacularly plunged 180 feet onto a rocky coastline and the sea, from a notch eroded into the 295 feet high cliff face of Kilt Rock. If viewed from the sea the basalt stone columns of the cliff face are said to resemble the pleads of a Scottish kilt.

The scenic drive north along the coast was stunning and we stopped many times to take photos. The sun was still shining, but the wind was blowing a “hoolie”, lifting swirling sprays of water into the air from the surf crashing onto the beach when we reached An Corran Beach.

The beach itself is very nice, but since 2002 when a local dog walker discovered the three-toed footprints of a Jurassic era Megalosaurus in rocks newly exposed after a large storm, it’s been a popular destination on Skye. We searched along the rock shelf at the water’s edge, but an incoming tide hindered our exploration.

Our hunger pangs began pinging around noon, and we stopped at several local restaurants only to be discouraged by the long waiting times for a table. We continued our drive. The issue wasn’t that the establishments were full, but that they lacked the seasonal staff to serve the customers adequately. This situation is a consequence of the Brexit maneuver that restricts foreign workers from entering the United Kingdom. This situation was mentioned to us several times by unhappy locals.

Following signs in Stenscholl for the Quiraing Pass we turned onto a serpentine single-track lane that climbed a 14% grade to an elevation of 856 feet above sea level before reaching a viewpoint.

With every fifteen miles or fifteen minutes the weather changed on the Isle of Skye, for better or worse. The deep grey sky was very forbidding and as soon as we opened the car door the rain poured down. The viewpoint and the trails leading from this scenic spot rival the Old Man of Storr’s, and are very popular for the views of the east coast of Skye and the highlands that can be seen on a clear day. It was raining too hard for us, so we continued across the highlands toward Idrigill on the west coast.

The interior sections of Skye are now vast wilderness areas with few signs of folks living in the area. But that wasn’t the case in the early 1800’s when the hills and glens of the island’s highlands supported over 20,000 crofters, tenant farmers, before the notorious “clearances” removed folks from the land to make way for large industrial scale sheep flocks. Many families emigrated to America, Canada, Australia, and New Zealand seeking better opportunities. A slow decline of Skye’s population continued into the 1970’s when it reached a low of 7,100 people. The most recent census shows the island’s population growing to 10,000 residents.

The sky was clearing once again when we reached the Idrigil Viewpoint. It was a splendid spot with panoramic views of Uig Bay and village. We finally had a late lunch at the Anchorage Cafe, across from the ferry terminal. It was nice to familiarize ourselves with the area, as we’d be taking the ferry from the Uig port to the Isle of Lewis and Harris in two days.

After lunch we drove up the western side of the Trotternish Peninsula to the Skye Museum of Island Life, which is a collection of thatched roofed stone cottages showcasing the way folks lived on the island centuries ago. Sheep and several hairy coos shared a bucolic pasture next to the museum when we pulled into the sunny parking area. But it was a deceptive moment of fair weather, and we were soon darting between the buildings, in the lulls between downpours, to see the interesting array of artifacts from seafaring, farming, and other trades on display.

We returned to Portree in time to snag a coveted parking space along the quay in front of our hotel and spent the rest of the late afternoon visiting the various shops in town. Our best find was in the charity shop along the waterfront where I was able to replace Donna’s hat with a warm woolen plaid cap. For the bargain price of fine pounds, she was willing to overlook a moth hole in the tweed.

We set out late the next morning to explore the western side of the Duirinish peninsula, visiting the village of Stein and Dunvegan Castle, both on the shore of Loch Dunvegan, but miles apart. Then heading back towards Portree and stopping in Carbost, on the Minginish peninsula, at the end of the day.

It was an overcast day from the get-go and we took the drive slowly as we followed the A850 though the countryside. At the head of Loch Greshornish we turned off the main road and followed a narrow lane into the village of Edinbane in search of a place to stop for coffee. The village was very quiet and didn’t show any sign of life, even though it was a weekday in the August high season, and several inns were shown on our map. We did encounter an unusual traffic sign that boldly warned with its red triangle that we were in a “Free Range Children” zone. It touched our hearts and made us laugh, while we remembered being kids with hours of unsupervised freedom to roam about. We’d seen many signs warning of stags, hedge hogs, and red squirrels throughout the highlands. Even a road crossing sign near a retirement complex in Edinburgh that featured the silhouette of an elderly couple using  canes, that made its point quite effectively with a touch of humor. Back on the main road the take-away coffee at the filling station didn’t appeal to us so we continued on our way.

Our approach to Stein looked like the soft edged, muted colors of an impressionist painting through the windshield, as the wipers didn’t work fast enough to whisk the heavy downpour away. The rain was too intense to get out of the car. So, we drove slowly through the village looking for a place to turn around, until the road suddenly disappeared as a boat ramp into the sea. Gloomy, wet, and unpleasant, it was definitely a “dreich” day, as the Scots like to say.

With everyone on Skye looking for an indoor activity to do, the parking area at Dunvegan Castle was full. There’s only so many castles you can see before they all begin to feel the same, and we had stopped at several earlier on the mainland, so we didn’t feel totally guilty when we decided to head to lunch instead. There are several restaurants that sit along the road through the village of Dunvegan. Dunvegan this, Dunvegan that. Of course we had lunch at The Dunvegan, a small five room inn overlooking the loch, which features a very nice restaurant along with a café, and deli for takeaway. Even though it was very busy on this inclement day, we found it relaxing, and the staff was very nice. Just down the street, a restored one-room crofter’s cottage houses the quirky Giant Angus MacAskill Museum. It’s run by a distant relative of the seven feet nine inch tall giant who was born in 1825 on the Isle of Berneray, in the Outer Hebrides. I guess that’s close enough to be considered a hometown boy, even though he spent most of his youth growing up in Nova Scotia, Canada after his parents emigrated. His height and strength eventually brought fame and fortune to the gentle giant called Gille Mór (Big Boy) when he toured the world with P.T Barnum and Tom Thumb, the world’s smallest man. Performing before Queen Victoria, she declared him the “strongest, stoutest and tallest man to ever enter the palace.” For a while he was listed in the Guiness Book of Records as the world’s strongest man. Statues of Angus and his stage partner Tom, along with his size 18 boots, and a replica of his huge coffin, fill the space. 

We arrived too late for the last tour of the distillery at Talisker in Carbost, but nevertheless we enjoyed sharing a flight of three single malt whiskies aged for 10, 18, and 25 years, while standing at the bar, as the tasting area and showroom were full of folks escaping the rainy afternoon. Our young barkeep was a well-versed whisky sommelier who described the “smoky sweetness intertwined with distinct maritime notes,” as he guided us through the subtle influences the haar, the sea mists that blow in from Loch Harport has on the aging process. He poetically used a cask full of adjectives to describe the Nose – floral seaside aromas, with gentle smoke palate; a malty creaminess and finish; sublimely spicy; a kick of cloves; an exquisite lingering saltiness.  All were very nice to sip slowly, and on a damp rainy “dreich” day like today we fully appreciated the healing properties of Scottish whisky and why some refer to it as the “water of life” in the highlands.

Just up the hill from the Talisker Distillery is The Oyster Shed. Occupying a metal farm building,

it’s a local no frills, order at the counter joint, with incredibly fair prices, that serves the freshest seafood caught locally that day. We ordered a dozen oysters and a bowl of mussels along with cans of Irn Bru, a fruity carbonated soft drink often referred to as “Scotland’s other national drink.” We sat outside around the corner of the building at a long, shared picnic table with other customers. Simple, delicious and authentic, it was a great way to cap off our day. Parking can be difficult here, so be patient; experiencing the Oyster Shed is well worth the short wait.

The next morning in Portree was beautiful and also our last day on Skye. We made the best of our time before catching the Caledonian MacBrayne ferry from Uig to Tarbert on the Isle of Lewis and Harris, in the Outer Hebrides. Overlooking Uig’s harbor we stopped at Captain Fraser’s Folly, a stone tower built in the mid 1800’s on the spot where Fraser’s Kilmuir estate Factor collected rent from the crofters that lived on the land. Fraser and his Factor were not popular during the clearances and often had to seek shelter in the tower from tenants evicted from the estate. Once in 1884 they even had to ask the Royal Navy to help secure their safety.

Skye’s legendary Faerie Glen, known as a place of myth and wonder, was only a short distance away from Fraser’s Folly, in the hills above Uig. It’s a magical spot, centered with concentric rings of stones, under a rocky hilltop that resembled ruins, that’s called Castle Ewen. The landscape surrounding the glen is rugged and covered with gnarled trees and heather where, according to legend, the Faeries of the glen lived. One of the ancient folk tales speaks of a Clan MacLeod chief that lived in Dunvegan Castle and married a Faerie princess. She stayed with the chief for a year before returning to her world, but left with him a Faerie flag to protect the Clan MacLeod from evil and bring victory in battles. It’s reportedly brought the clan good luck over the centuries.

Inexperienced with car ferries, we made sure we were early in the queue at the Caledonian MacBrayne pier. We had purchased our tickets online, months before, as soon as their summer sailing schedule became available. We read that while being a last-minute walk-on isn’t a problem, car reservations during the summer high season fill quickly. There were special lanes for each category of vehicle – car, camper, truck and bus. Vehicles without reservations get driven on last or not at all depending on available space. It all worked very smoothly with a ferry attendant scanning the barcode of our printed ticket and directing us into the correct boarding lane.

Surprisingly, the ferry was very quickly loaded and with a blast of the ship’s horn we departed Uig and headed across the Minch, the body of water that separates Skye from the Isle of Lewis and Harris. 

Till next time, Craig & Donna

P.S. According to Sir William Connolly, Scotland’s favorite retired stand-up comedian, “There’s no such thing as bad weather, just the wrong clothing, so get yourself a sexy raincoat and live a little.”

The Turquoise Trail: Scenic, Artsy and Quirky

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We always have a wonderful time in New Mexico, but often we’ve too easily fallen into the fastest route, the Albuquerque to Santa Fe rut. Heading north on Rt25, with the Sandia Mountain Range glowing in the late afternoon light on your right and a spectacular sunset in the west is a sublime experience, worthy of inclusion into the “wonders of the world.” The sky and light out here are just awesome, especially if it’s your first time to the Southwest. Aside from traveling north through Jemez Springs, Valles Caldera and Bandelier National Monument, all great destinations admittedly, there are not many alternative routes to Santa Fe, unless you are willing to circumnavigate northern New Mexico for days and hundreds of miles, which is a great alternative and may inspire future adventures.

Instead of following the “westward ho!” from cowboy movies of our youth, we headed east out of Albuquerque eighteen miles on Interstate 40/Route 66 to the Tijeras Pueblo Archaeological Site and the beginning of the Turquoise Trail National Scenic Byway. The trail is a splendid backroad route that gracefully curves, rises and falls through the rugged foothills of the Sandia and Ortiz mountains as it follows NM14 north for 65 miles. Passing through the historic towns of Golden, Madrid, Cerrillos and San Marcos just south of Santa Fe.

Archeological evidence found at multiple sites in Tijeras Canyon traces early habitation going back 9,000 years, near the end of the last Ice Age. The Pueblos people and their first permanent dwellings date to the 10th century AD.

It’s believed that Tijeras Pueblo was built in the early 1300s and had 200 rooms in terraced buildings arranged in a U-shape pattern around a central kiva.  The settlement only flourished for about 100 years before it was abandoned in the 1400s due to extended periods of drought and raids from nomadic Plains Indian tribes.  The Spanish tried to encourage settlement of the area in 1763 with the Carnuel land grant, but that failed after repeated raids by Comanche, Kiowa, and Plains Apache Indians forced settlers to flee. Permanent resettlement didn’t occur until 1819 when the Spanish made peace with the tribes.

Sadly, today all that is left of the Tijeras Pueblo is a terribly eroded mound of rubble with a self-guided trail that winds through the ruins. There is a small museum attached to the Park Ranger Station, which is only open on weekends.

If you haven’t taken the Sandia Peak Tramway, due to the fear of heights or its expense, you can still enjoy the view with your feet firmly planted on the ground. Follow NM14 north, turn left in the village of San Antonito onto Sandia Crest Road, and follow the signs to the 10,678-ft summit. Entrance to the park is free, but there is a small parking fee at the top. The views across Albuquerque are fantastic!

Past San Antonito the desolate, sparsely populated nature of the old west returns, with open vistas and greater distances between dirt tracks that spur occasionally left or right from the road and lead who knows where.

Legends of “Seven Cities of Gold,” and treasure that was rumored to rival the Aztec’s wealth brought Francisco Vazquez de Coronado with 2000 conquistadors north from Mexico City in 1540. On the Rio Grande north of present-day Albuquerque, Coronado commandeered a pueblo as headquarters for his expedition. His men spent two years searching an unknown region that spanned from Texas and Kansas to the Grand Canyon, searching for gold. He never found any because the Pueblo tribes attributed no value to it. Turquoise was the gold they mined for. Spiritual properties attributed to the stone are courage, good fortune and protection of the wearer in battles. The stone was a valuable trading commodity and pieces of Cerrillos Turquoise have been found by archeologists at indigenous sites in Canada and Aztec and Mayan tombs in Central America. Two years later Coronado returned to Mexico empty handed, though his camp was only 30 miles from the stream where this precious mineral glittered in the water.

In 1825, decades before the California Gold Rush, when New Mexico was still part of the Spanish Empire, the mineral placer gold was discovered in Tuerto Creek which ran down from the Ortiz Mountains. Two rough mining camps grew into small villages named El Real de San Francisco and Placer del Tuerto. Built with adobe bricks in 1830, the San Francisco de Asis Catholic Church congregation sought to soften the rough mining town’s edges.

This first discovery of gold west of the Mississippi brought prosperity to the villages for several decades. The Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo ended the Mexican-American War in 1848 and allowed the New Mexico territory to be annexed to the United States and the villages were combined and renamed Golden. At its zenith, the town supported many businesses, several saloons, a stock exchange, school, and post office. By the mid-1890s the luster of gold had worn away and ranching had become the dominant enterprise. Folks moved away for better opportunities; the last nail in its coffin and the beginning of its transition to a ghost town was the closure of its post office in 1928.

Not much has changed since then for Golden. If you blink you’ve driven through it. But the quirky Bottle House is worth a quick stop and sets the tone for the area that’s full of independent, eccentric, and colorful personalities. The towns along the Turquoise Trail all share similar once-prosperous histories followed by decades of decline, until a slow rediscovery began in the 1970s. It started to attract folks and artists drawn to the ruggedness and beauty of the terrain, those seeking an alternative lifestyle, wanting to live off-the-grid, or just wanting to be left alone. Evolution happens and of course there are now more homes, restaurants, RV parks, small museums, shops, and galleries. But fortunately, there seems to be some unspoken agreement between the old timers and newcomers to keep the area “historically quaint and Old West,” as if time has stopped. You’ll have to drive to Albuquerque to find a strip mall.

A short distance farther along, the San Francisco de Asis Catholic Church and cemetery still stand and command a small knoll above the road.  Its original adobe bricks were covered with a concrete veneer during a 1960’s restoration. But walk around the back of the church and it’s possible to see them where the veneer has broken away. The church supports a small congregation and holds mass on Saturdays at 4:00 pm.  Annually, every 1st Saturday of October, the church hosts the Fiesta de San Francisco de Assis which begins with a 11:00 am mass, followed with the blessing of the graves in the cemetery and a procession lead by Matachines dancers.

The vistas between the towns are epically endless and evoked thoughts of how folks centuries ago managed to survive on this wild frontier. Drive too fast and you’ll whiz by many interesting roadside attractions.

Compared to Golden, Madrid is a metropolis! Coal was discovered in the Ortiz Mountains during the mid-1800s, spurring a squatter’s camp called Coal Gulch. MAD-rid, not Ma-DRID, was founded in 1869. So much coal was being mined that the Santa Fe railroad constructed a spur down from Cerrillos into the town in 1892. We wet our whistles on the patio of the Madrid Brewing Company & Museum, in front of an ancient steam train with what we must say was one of the best craft beers we’ve tasted.

It’s difficult to believe that at its zenith the town once boasted a population greater than Albuquerque’s 3000 folks in 1906. All the small claims were eventually consolidated into the Albuquerque and Cerrillos Coal Company. It became a company town and the extraction of coal from the hills surrounding the town was king. The company provided the booming town and its employees with everything.

Houses were bought in Kanas, disassembled, and shipped on the railroad to Madrid to satisfy the demands of a growing population. The company built a community center, school, and hospital. Most importantly, after it burned down on Christmas Day in 1944, the company rebuilt the Mineshaft Tavern, with its famous 40′ long bar where miners could stretch out after a long shift hunched over underground. The first lighted baseball field west of the Mississippi was built for the town’s minor league baseball team, called the Madrid Miners. Electricity produced at the local coal fired power station ran the mines and was provided free to all the residents of the town. Free electricity encouraged extravagant Christmas light displays that drew in visitors from afar to see lights that covered every building and were strung up the mountainside.

The company brought 160,000 gallons of water daily by train tank cars into the town and legend says every home had a green lawn. The price of coal collapsed in the 1950s when natural gas was beginning to be piped into homes, and the company and town’s economy collapsed as well. In 1954 the entire town was offered for sale for $250,000.00 in the Wall Street Journal. There were not any buyers. Except for a few squatters, the town sat abandoned for twenty years until it was decided to sell the company homes one at a time. Studios, shops, museums, restaurants, and galleries now line the 20 mph main stretch. Packed with tourists on the weekends, it’s almost impossible to find a place to park. Like the rebuilt bar, the town today is a phoenix risen from the ashes.

Just north of Madrid, a huge contemporary metal sculpture similar to a Trojan Horse highlights the landscape. You can’t get very close to it, as there’s no visible gate and it’s behind a rancher’s barbed wire fencing. As of this writing I haven’t been able to identify the artist. The sculpture is intriguing, and its placement is mystifying. Other artists have also placed their creations along the drive.

The turn for Cerrillos lies just beyond the bridge that crosses the over the Arroyo Viejo, a seasonal creek. It’s the only town on the Turquoise Trail that you have to turn off NM 14 to reach. That half-mile journey takes you back 150 years to a village with dusty dirt roads, wide enough to turn around a team of horses and a wagon. Cerrillos retains its old west authenticity, with many original adobe structures and 1800s era rough-hewn lumbered storefronts. It is deemed so authentic, many western movies have used the town for their location shoots, most notably the 3:10 to Yuma (2007) starring Russell Crowe and Christian Bale, along with Young Guns (1988) which had a huge famous cast that starred Jack Palance, Kiefer Sutherland, Lou Diamond Phillips, Emilio Estevez, Charlie Sheen, and a cameo appearance by Tom Cruise as a soldier shot in the climatic scene. The action comedy with Clint Eastwood Every Which Way but Loose (1978) was also filmed here. A few miles away John Wayne filmed The Cowboys (1972) in San Marcos.

Pueblo Indians had been conducting small open pit mining with hatchets on Mount Chalchihuitl, which is now part of Cerrillos Hills State Park, since the 900s. The stone was gathered for its believed sacred properties, along with lead sulfide, which was the source of glaze paint used to decorate native pottery. Spanish settlers arrived in the 1600s and mined the same hills for silver. There was an uneasy coexistence, and silver mining ceased with the Pueblo Rebellion in 1680. Small mining efforts returned to the area after the Spanish renewed efforts to live peacefully with the Pueblo tribes. New Mexico was a United States territory when gold was discovered around Cerrillos in 1879.  The railroad arrived in 1880. The boom town supported thousands of miners with 4 hotels, 5 brothels, 21 saloons, and an opera house which once hosted a performance by the famous French stage actress and singer “the Divine Sarah,” Sarah Bernhardt.

Four thousand prospecting pits, mine shafts and holes were dug in the area by 1884. The town’s prosperity and recreation attracted outlaws like the Ketchum Gang, Silva’s White Caps and Billy the Kid. Cowboys from Cerrillos were recruited to join Teddy Roosevelt’s Rough Riders for their campaign through Cuba during the Spanish American War. The president of a gold and silver mining company began promoting turquoise and silver Jewelry to visitors arriving by train. Tiffany & Co. at one point even owned their own mine to provide the stone for their booming turquoise jewelry sales that lasted into the 1900s. The St Joseph Catholic Church standing today was built in 1922 and replaced an earlier 1884 structure. A Methodist Church graced the other end of town. It was never a ghost town, but slowly, one by one, the area’s mining operations played out and closed until only several hundred people remained in the area.

Mid-week in early spring, the only door that swung open was at the Casa Grande Trading Post and Cerrillos Turquoise Mining Museum which has a mind-boggling array of displays and trinkets. It is a large 28 room adobe hacienda that looks like it has been there for centuries. But in fact the owners, Todd and Patricia Brown, along with family and friends, started construction in the 1970s that eventually utilized 65,000 handmade adobe bricks.

Some Interesting highlights from the Cerrillos Historical Society include:

1888 – The dark stain on the floor of Dr. Palmer’s second-floor office, the relic of Black Jack Ketchum’s bullet wound, is the local must-see attraction. The first meeting of the Cerrillos Masonic Lodge is held at the Palace Hotel in their upstairs room.

February 19, 1890, 11am – Nelly Bly, the famous New York World reporter was racing back to New York on her round-the-world-in-80-days journey (she made it in 72 days, 6 hours, 11 minutes, 14 seconds). Her train stopped at Cerrillos only long enough to take on water. The 67 miles from Albuquerque to Lamy by rail was done at the breakneck speed of 46 miles an hour!

August 1892 – The new railroad spur to Coal Gulch is completed and the town of Madrid is born.

1899 – The Cochiti Gold Mining Company builds an Edison coal-fired dynamo at Madrid, which provides Cerrillos with its first electric lights. Those were the days!

Just past an interesting geological rock formation called Garden of the Gods, we reached our farthest point north and turned around on the Turquois Trail in San Marcos at the intersection with the road that leads east to Galisteo and eventual the pueblo ruins at Pecos National Historical Park. Along the road here are some whimsical wind sculptures created by David Hickman.

We could have continued north on NM14 to Santa Fe, but we chose to return to Albuquerque via Madrid and stop for a crisp cold beer at the Mine Shaft Tavern and stretch our legs.

Till next time,

Craig & Donna