Rows and flows of angel hair
And ice cream castles in the air
And feather canyons everywhere
I looked at clouds that way
We woke to a brisk and beautiful Taos morning on June 30, ready to deliver our Boy Scouts to their trailhead and then begin our divided adventures. We packed up swiftly – the hikers wore their Boy Scout uniforms, we road trippers wore comfortable clothes. We headed to the St. Francis Plaza for one last breakfast together at a restaurant in the square, the Ranchos Plaza Grill.
According to the restaurant’s menu, the buildings and fortifications of St. Francis Plaza were built between 1750 and 1779, with the Plaza’s San Francisco de Asis church completed 36 years later in 1815. The church is one of the oldest churches in America, dedicated to Saint Francis of Assisi. It is still an active place of worship and is very beautiful, but was undergoing some repairs on the day we were in town and was thus surrounded by cranes and construction cones.
The restaurant itself was a wonder, full of uneven floors and New Mexican art and adobe architectural quirks. I wondered what it would be like to excavate the paint layers on the walls, see its history like tree rings.
After breakfast, we headed out on the 1.5 hour drive to Philmont, over mountain passes – wrote down the elevation markers as we drove (Angel Fire; 8420; Cimmaron , 6430; Bobcat Pass, 9820). We wound past goats and deer in the road, through piney woods and past burn scars from various past wildfires. We finally reached Philmont Scout Ranch, and after a few obligatory photos, we kissed our biggest boys and sent them on their way. I have asked both the Prof and Jack to write a guest post or two about their part of this adventure – – – we shall see if I can convince them!
After we left them a little before lunch, we began our 8 hour trek to Moab. The clouds in the sky were unbelievable – I could not stop taking pictures of them. We stopped at our first pullout scenic view and I took approximately fifty pictures of the clouds (I’ll spare you, and share just one).
We headed back the way we came, through Taos, through the darling Pagosa Springs, and funky Durango, Colorado. I killed both a bird and a prairie dog on that drive, which was a major bummer, but the children did not notice. We listened to a book on tape the whole way – the Magnus Chase series by Rick Riordan, all about Viking gods. There were breathtaking splendid views all the way, and I repeatedly kept my eyes on the road but pulled up my phone and just snapped pictures in a circle around me without really seeing what I was doing. I felt like we were flying – the start of our trip, the Western sky unfurled before us, the landscape so different from home. It was exhilarating.
Around 8:45 that evening, we arrived in Moab. Just south of the Colorado River, Moab has a population of a little less than 6,000, but hosts millions of visitors a year. We made three of them this year. We stayed at the Expedition Lodge, a retro motor court motel with upgraded rooms.
We settled in to watch Aquaman on the tv (I cannot believe this thing was a bestselling hit) and rest up for our adventure in Arches the next day.