My Trip to Red River

Recently, my son Josh and I made the drive from St. Louis to Red River, New Mexico. I'd been to New Mexico before but never that far north. The Red River area is amazing. Dusty Richards took us on a tour of Taos County and one remark he made stuck with me all the way home. He said that people were there, with prosperous communities of Mexicans and Native Americans, for centuries before this country's western expansion. When I got back to St. Louis I researched the Red River area and reference after reference said, when explorer, fur trappers and prosepectors discovered the area they put River City, as Red River was first called, on the map. With such a vast and populated community already there, how is a place discovered by visitors?

The mountains surrounding Red River are the Sangre de Cristos, name by the Spanish explorer, Antonio Valverde y Cosio in 1719. The name means "Blood of Christ" because of the impressive reddish hue of the snowy peaks at sunrise called alpenglow. When they found silver and gold and other metals in the mountains, Red River's population soared. There were two general mercantiles, a livery stable, two newspapers, a sawmill, blacksmith shop, barber shop, more than a dozen saloons, several hotels and boarding houses, a dance hall and a hospital. There was also a red light district with plenty of gambling and bar room brawls.

Now Red River is a peaceful resort town with skiers and hikers filling its narrow streets during the snow season, and people just wanting to enjoy the mountains during the rest of the year.  Oh, and the reason for my trip was to join a group of writers to discuss writing and marketing. That was worth the trip right there. Jodi Thomas, the NY Times bestseller, has a condo in Red River and years ago she had the idea of getting together with some friends in a very informal setting and just "talk writing." It was great. I met some neat people from all over the West. They were amazed that I'd driven all the way from St. Louis to be there. So was I. I don't look up miles when I travel. I look at the map and "guestimate." My problem with this trip was that in my head I thought...okay, I go through Missouri, through Oklahoma...and poof, I'm in northeast New Mexico. Three states. No problem. I figured 12 hours. It takes me 16 to get to Savannah, Georgia, a place I visit often. So Red River would seem like a simple jaunt down the road. Wrong! I wasn't figuring that the pan handle of Oklahoma is like driving through three states all by itself. What a drive. But I plan to make it again next year. 

Happy Birthday Fancy Pants Gal!

Lucille Ball was one of my favorites and this morning when I saw that it would have been her 100th birthday I tried to figure out how I could say happy birthday to her on here, a blog that I vowed to keep western. Then I remembered Fancy Pants. She wasn't Fancy Pants, that was Bob Hope.  It had probably been 30 or 40 years since I'd seen the movie, maybe even longer. But for some reason just the thought of it made me smile so I decided to check it out. I watched in online early this morning. I didn't smile, I laughed until my sides hurt.

The whole premise is that a stage actor is convinced to play the role of a butler for a Western family who are about to host President Theodore Roosevelt. They want to appear more high brown than they are. The deception is eventually uncovered, and the actor and the family's daughter eventually fall in love. Bob Hope is the actor, and Lucille Ball is the daughter. The movie is silly, often verging on the edge of total chaos, but it's funny. Not a true western I guess, but a feel good story with western scenery and plenty of horses. Close enough. And I had to have an excuse to say Happy Birthday, Lucille Ball.

New Mexico

Several years ago, my husband and I were lucky enough to take a tour of the West with famous Western Writer, Dusty Richards. When we drove through New Mexico, Dusty circled around the Santa Fe area to show us the land he had fallen in love with on his many trips through the state researching his novels. We spent one night in a small little town called Santa Rosa. They had a weird body of water there called a Blue Hole. Although I grew up a river gal and will swim almost anywhere, that blue circle of 80 foot deep water scared the you-know-what right outta me. How do you know what monsters lurk under you when the water is that deep? We just sat and watched from a park bench while kids jumped off a natural waterfall into the beautiful Blue Hole. But I kept thinking of how the pioneers must have felt when they ran across the pool.

The Blue Hole in Santa Rosa

Also in Santa Rosa was an old abandoned mission. The tombstones out front had dates that went back to the early 1800's. Most of the walls were gone, the roof had fallen in decades ago, and there was nothing left inside except a tree that had taken root and grown to nearly ten feet. I took pictures at sunset and the light that shone inside the adobe walls looked like gold. It was truly a miraculous place and it made me fall in love with New Mexico. It truly is the Land of Enchantment.

That trip west was the one that made me see the land like it was before towns and highways marred its deserts and mountains. Before the sound of car horns and tractors covered the peaceful wind through the trees. And before red aluminum canoes dotted the Rio Grande River.

The Rio Grande going through New Mexico.

Hills around the Taos area in the late nineteenth century.

Santa Fe in the early 20th century.