Our stop here, as we headed east, in Northern New Mexico took me back to the mid-1800’s and westward expansion. Having lived in Oregon during Carli’s formative years, the history of the Oregon Trail fascinated me. The Santa Fe Trail in this part of New Mexico rivals the same migration west as the Oregon Trail. The only difference is the trail heading west from here was hot and dusty as opposed to the cold and muddy trail up north.
As Hali strolled up and down Canyon Street in old Santa Fe, popping her head into the numerous art galleries, Carlos and I walked the narrow street imagining what this trail might have looked like 150 years ago.
This street was essentially a burro path, parting each side with small adobe pueblos. Half way down the block is the home of the oldest, continuously occupied house in America. Sidling my head back and forth to the east and west of this house, I try to imagine life along this trail without the niceties of today: running water at your fingertips, electric switches to light the house, a fajita food truck down the way, wheels(not attached to a 150 horse powered vehicle) making its way through the ruts of this dusty trail.
It’s true, there are still no candy stores, food courts, cheesy souvenir shops, or street vendors along this street, but what you’ll find is some of the best sculpture and fine art this side of the Continental Divide.
Walk a half mile down the banks of the slowly creeping Santa Fe river and you’ll find all of the above in the historic plaza. Carlos and I sat in the plaza, shared a fajita wrap, and watched people while listening to the street musicians and reflected on what a fiesta would have been like a century and a half earlier, before we arrived.
We decided on taking these few photos of the old wild west, and head east, to the Lone Star State.