New Mexico, day 3

For our final full day in New Mexico, Mom had a few places to visit. She was walking a little better, but still extremely limited. We first went to the Sweet Lily cafe for a quick breakfast. I think they made the best latte I've ever had. Just the right amount of foam, perfect temperature, intense flavor, and a lot of vanilla bean, which gave it another level of flavor. We also split a biscuit breakfast sandwich, which was wonderful too. The biscuit was hot and flaky, the cheese was melted and the eggs tasted very fresh, not poured out of a carton.

Two doors down was the Georgia O'Keefe Museum, one of the most popular tourist spots in New Mexico. Mom spoke for a while with the visitor coordinator about bringing a huge group in. She passed me off as her colleague so I could get in for free. Maybe not the most honorable approach, but it did the trick. It must have seemed weird to them when we said we were colleagues from Chicago and in town together to explore the area. As for the art, it wasn't really my style, between the faded oil colors and abstract approach. I appreciate that O'Keefe did do some paintings of New York though.

Down about a quarter mile on Johnson Street was the New Mexico school of cooking, another spot the tour group will be visiting. Their cooking studio was incredibly impressive, it looked like a studio from the Food Network. There were multiple cameras, a full wait staff, and an expansive southwestern menu. I went back into the shop and bought a jar of roasted green chile for the house and a bag of biscochito cookies for my co-workers. A biscochito is the state cookie of New Mexico, made like a shortbread cookie with anise and coated with cinnamon sugar. I haven't tasted one yet, but I think it'll go over pretty well.

Our next stop was the State Capitol building, which is also called the Roundhouse. The lobby was still under construction, so I went upstairs pretty quickly. They also have a very impressive art collection through the four story building. There was a buffalo head made of random trinkets like paintbrushes, spoons, and newspaper clippings. I took a picture of the state Senate chambers and also the display of the governor's office.

Mom was still limping terribly, so we decided to stay in the car and drive. She wanted to drive down Canyon Road. It's this little narrow road that goes about a mile and it's just filed with dozens of art galleries and shops. And they ain't cheap. I would have gone into the Palace of the Governors, but I wasn't spending ten bucks to just walk around the one level building.

With the weather looking decent, I made my reservation for whitewater rafting. Mom was not able to do it with her injury, so she just went up to Taos. As we began driving north, the rain started again. After an hour plus of driving, Mom dropped me off near Pilar, which is in the mountains, about fifteen minutes south of Taos.

My fellow rafters were a family of five Asians from Portland, so I guess I was the white sheep of the family. We had to put on helmets and life jackets. I was certainly pleased they had rain slickers for us as well. It was only about 65 degrees out, so the slickers were needed to keep us warm and dry. The rafting season was coming to an end that week and the water level had lowered, which added more rocks into the ride.

Since I had a little experience, I was named the point man, which meant I sat on the front left of the raft. There were a couple of times I had to dial it back because I was just using too much strength. The five miles took about two hours total. We did get stuck on rocks a couple of times, but came together well at the end.

Halfway through the drive back south to Santa Fe, the sun came out over the mountains. Not the best timing, but at least it did decide to make an appearance. Mom actually had it in mind to go to dinner right from rafting. I was wearing a bathing suit and nylon black t-shirt, so that wasn't happening. She wanted to get a steak and I barely felt dressed well enough to go through a drive thru.

We arrived at the hotel and had one happy hour drink, I went with a tequila sunrise. Even though the Bull Ring restaurant was only 0.3 miles away, we still drove since mom mom's walking was still painful to watch. We sat in the bar area, which was far more desirable to the main dining room's ugly mint green walls. The clientele was certainly locals and everyone definitely seemed to know everyone.

We started with the house salad, which was fine but skippable. The bread came late, but was warm and crusty. Then came the main event: the porterhouse steak for two. First, the server laid down hot plates with sizzling butter and a little minced fresh parsley. It not only adds flavor, but keeps the food warm. 

The steak had a great char on it, but the inside was cooked a little inconsistent. We asked for medium to get that pink center, but the tip was closer to medium well, while the inside was warm and red. It wasn't quite rare, but still a little underdone. The flavor was absolutely wonderful. For sides, we got Lyonnaise potatoes, sauteed with onions. The hot butter worked perfectly with them. Also, we got a bowl of creamed spinach. To be frank, it wasn't as good as mine. It just tasted bland, like it needed salt, pepper, and nutmeg. We finished the meal with a bottle of Australian Shiraz. There was definitely no room for dessert.

We got outside and it was raining again, so we headed back to the hotel. Knowing we were getting up at four am, and realizing Santa Fe didn't exactly have an exciting night life, it only made sense.

In terms of weather, I was amazed how cool it was in Santa Fe. Perhaps being 7,000 feet above sea level had a lot to do with that, but we never got above 85 degrees in August. The customer service was remarkable all the way around. Albuquerque was a little disappointing, as it seemed like I did everything I needed to do within one day. Maybe seeing a baseball game would have been fun, but that's about it. I might return to Santa Fe, if something brought me back, but I'm not sure what that would be.