Pilgrimage to Taos

'Twas the weekend of visitors for the fellow-fellows; Jonathan had Agnes and Eric, the French friends from D.C. and Chris had Leslie, the charming Anglican priestess from Oxfordshire. And so, after a pleasant Friday evening dinner at Jonathan's casita de parties, a field trip was in order, and we all decided to rendezvous in Taos on Saturday. I'd not yet been to Taos and so was eager to go, especially via the high road and all its famed beauty.

I picked up Leslie and Chris in Tesuque and, picnic in hand, we began our day. We took the back roads to Taos--incredibly lovely--and I can't even begin to explain the sudden changes in landscape at every turn. You gaze out the window and see mountains that appear and disappear, replaced by dirt hills of numerous hues, followed by pine forests and then the stunning Rio Grande. The incredible vastness is so striking. On the way up we stopped at the charming Santuario de Chimayo, a pilgrimage site that the Archdiocese describes as the "lourdes" of America. Built in the early 1800s at the site of an appearance of a mysterious cross, the church is famed for it's sacred healing dirt, which visitors scoop up by the bagful in no end of creative containers--plastic, paper, metal--and my personal choice, one of the pockets of my purse. The church itself is really sweet and filled with thousands of pictures, crutches, baby shoes, mini-shrines and no end of the detrius of people's prayers. Touching really, the tangibility of belief. It's clearly a sacred space both inside and out, and surrounding the church, one finds stone crosses under archways, and candles and makeshift shrines everywhere, like the one below. It was a peaceful place, full of visitors and families, and we stayed for quite awhile, finishing off the journey with a snack at the restaurant. While Leslie and I went with the traditional tamale, Chris felt the need to eat a polish sausage burrito with cheese, guac, and green chile and while he claims it was quite good, I have my doubts.

We left the parking lot and headed to the small town of Dixon for the annual open studios. Dixon is a "middle of nowhere" kind of place, but was absolutely rockin' on the sunny Saturday of the open studios. The artists all had their homes and studios open and people wandered in and out, and we saw quite a bit of "good" art as opposed to the giant metal horse statues and southwest kitsch filling the galleries of Santa Fe. After talking to painters, photographers and weavers, we hit the local church's thrift store where, for ten cents I purchased a plastic salt and pepper shaker from an Indian school fundraiser still in the package as well as a fabulous "Massachusetts" glass with a red pilgrim hat and musket embossed over a white outline of Massachusetts. Amazing what a dime could buy. We left Dixon and headed up the high road to Taos and took in the somewhat surprising scenery.

Upon reflection, the road to Taos was far more striking than the town itself, which I found a bit touristy and cheesy, but I think my initial expectations were a bit high. After shopping around a bit we decided to go to the Pueblo, a world heritage site, but it was closed for a ceremony. We decided instead to go to the Taos art museum, which was the former home of the Russian painter Nicolai Fechin. The house, I thought, was far more stunning than any of the art it held because Fechin hand carved the wooden beams, railings, and all sorts of closets, shelves, doors and decorations throughout the house. We all agreed we would move in at any time--especially into the large sunny bedroom on the 2nd floor. After wandering through the house we ate our picnic on the patio and then went and wandered the shops and the central square of Taos. Chris was dead set on me finding some redeeming qualities in Taos, and when we visited Mabel Dodge Luhan's house on the way to dinner, he succeeded. Luhan, a rich eastern transplant and patron, attracted many artists to Taos and New Mexico (including O'Keeffe) and her house is the strangest of pueblo structures. It's now a bed and breakfast--one I'd happily stay in.

We went to dinner at El Monte Segrado (Sacred Mountain) which was actually a big hotel with mountains in the background and cottonwood trees in the courtyard and had a surprisingly good dinner in the strangest of surroundings. I finally married the burger with green chiles (and spicy ketchup)--a happy combo--but the highlight of the meal, for everyone, was dessert as we watched the French couple battle over every bite on two plates and Chris and I shared the most delicious churros swimming in pistachio creme anglais. The ride home was a long one, but it was a lovely full day. I'll reserve judgement on Taos until I return again and go to the Pueblo, but one thing is clear--don't take the highway, take the high road!

Pic. 1: El Santuario de Chimayo
Pic. 2: One of the Outdoor Shrines, Chimayo
Pic. 3: The inexplicably beautiful evening light at Mabel Dodge Luhan's house, Taos