Farewell

Today is our last day in Taos, so it seems appropriate to list the hightlights of our 70-day adventure in the southwest.

• Visiting Drew and Liz in Las Vegas
• Crossing over the Hoover Dam at midnight
• The south rim of the Grand Canyon
• Lunch in Chimayo with Michael and Suzanne
• The wine festival in Santa Fe with Stu and Terri
• Staying at the Baldpate Inn
• Listening to Michael Hearne and Colin Brooks in the rain at the Old Blinking Light
• Getting to know Maggie, Deonne, and Carlye
• Dancing to Jimmy Stadler's band at the Anaconda Bar
• The chili cook-off in Red River
• The farewell soiree at our house with French 75's
• Sunsets from Jim and Rebecca's patio

It's very hard to leave, but we keep telling ourselves that we'll be back in just seven weeks. Adios, Taos!

Buster Brown

A new baby was born yesterday on the mesa--a baby alpaca, that is. Maggie was the first to discover him, and she immediately called Karen (the alpaca breeder) at work. Lars, the Great Pyrenees who guards the herd, was in attendance for a short time, but then took off with his pal Zoey to parts unknown (and still had not returned by 8:00 p.m.). Meanwhile, Jack, a neighborhood mutt and moocher (he always joins Lars and Zoey at mealtime) decided that he should be the one to eat the afterbirth.

The baby is a beautiful soft brown color, hence the name Buster Brown. He's a sturdy little guy with strong legs, and, according to Karen, had already gained a pound on his first day. At this rate he'll be a giant by the time we return in October. I took a few pictures of him and his mom, Valentine, and I hope to post them (along with many others of the mesa) in a few weeks after we return to Minnesota.

10 Things I'll Miss about the Mesa

1. Big-time views. Minnesota just can't compete with the mountains and the sage-covered hills of northern New Mexico.

2. Neighbors. Rebecca and Jim, Maggie, Karen, and Deonne are the world's best neighbors. They're a funny, friendly, funky bunch who all know how to tell a good story.

3. The sky. Sunsets, stars, rainbows, lightning, thunderheads, moonrises...the drama never ends.

4. Mesa dogs. They're the true owners of the mesa, and if they like you they just might let your
car pass by on bumpy Mesa Sea Road.

5. The Taos Diet. Much tastier than the Atkins artery-clogger: tamales, enchiladas, fajitas, fish tacos, and Texas barbecue. Yum!

6. Morning yoga in the guest room. On my yoga DVD, Rodney Yee says, "As the morning sun warms the earth, these exercises will invigorate you to meet the day." Right on!

7. Coyotes and Cows. Howling and mooing just outside our bedroom window, the beasties add a little more mystery to the night.

8. Morning walks. Every morning we walk along Mesa Sea, up to the bizarre little round house and back, about 3 miles round-trip. We say hello to all the dogs along the way, and love the fresh, light air and mountain views.

9. Musical evenings. Jimmy Stadler's rock band and Michael Hearne's traditional western music (not too country!) are our favorites here, and sometimes we're lucky enough to catch flamenco at the Adobe Bar.

10. Taos Cow ice cream. My favorite flavor is cherry ristra, but they're all good!

Altitude Adjustment

Just a short post today to brag that Steve and I did our third climb up to Williams Lake with (almost) no stopping to catch our breath. After two months here, I guess we've finally gotten used to life at 7500 feet. The Williams Lake hike, which begins at 10,040 and ends at 11,060, gets easier the longer we stay here. Today we met Rocky, a championship standard poodle, on the trail, and watched him get a little bit out of his show-dog character to chase a pretty golden lab. To reward ourselves for a good hike, we stopped for lunch at Tim's Stray Dog Cantina. Tim's tortilla soup and green chile are delicious!

Horses, Hippie Hovels, and Hamlet

Went with Rebecca today to feed and water her horse, Spuds, who's boarding at the home of her artist friends on Coyote Loop, about two miles from our house. Spuds, a quarter horse, shares accommodations with Chagall, a once-wild mustang. Spuds was especially happy to see Rebecca; he'd been penned in his little stall and was eager to get out into the corral for some excercise. I watched in fascination as Rebecca went through her routine of putting hay in the feeder, emptying out the horses' water trough so they'd have mud to wade in (hooves can get dry and cracked in this hot weather, just like human hands and feet!), and spraying the horses with the hose to cool them off. I thought Spuds looked a little thinner than the last time I saw him, which was about a year ago. Rebecca says that Chagall, a wily devil, always tries to eat Spuds' share of the food unless she's there to keep a watchful eye. Chagall is a beautiful chestnut-colored horse with a lovely black mane, but is definitely on the chubby side. According to Rebecca, when she and Chagall's owner go out riding, Spuds has no trouble climbing the hills, but Chagall huffs and puffs and has lots of trouble with the steeper climbs--not exactly what you'd expect from a mighty mustang!

The artists who own Chagall live in a modified earthship that they built themselves. The back wall of the house is built into the ground, and the front wall has floor-to-ceiling windows that face south. An indoor planter spanning the length of the house is filled with orange trees, rose bushes, and tropical plants that thrive in the constant sunlight. The floor is stained concrete, broken in pieces resembling flagstone. A "truth window" in a back corner of the house reveals what the home is made of: aluminum cans and mortar. Two wood-burning stoves provide heat in the winter, and lights in the ceiling are surrounded by gallon-size tomato cans. As Rebecca says, it's a true hippie hovel, but it's functional and lovely in a very Taos sort of way.
In addition to their horse, the artists also have a rooster, Hamlet, and three hens who very kindly provide eggs for breakfast.

After days like these on the mesa, how can I ever go back to Minnesota?