Remembering Roadtripping To Taos New Mexico & More

Microsoft's One Drive Memories from this Day's email brought a fond memory back to mind, this next to last Saturday of the 2025 version of August.

But, I am fairly certain this memory took place in October, not August.

It was part of the second longest roadtrip I've ever tripped on. The last roadrip before moving to Texas.

This roadtrip sort of began with four days of houseboating on Lake Powell.

When we got off the boat it was to the treacherous Moki Dugway, we trekked, on the way to Mexican Hat and the San Juan Inn.

From Mexican Hat we took a daytrip south to Arizona, across the San Juan River, to the Navajo Nation and Monument Valley, before heading back north to Moab.

We spent several days in Moab, going to Arches National Park, where, among other trails, the infamous Fiery Furnace trail was hiked. And also, to nearby Canyonlands National Park and Islands in the Sky.

After Moab, half the group headed back to Washington, whilst two vehicles trekked on, memorably staying one night at the high, breath-taking elevation of Silverton, Colorado, staying, if I remember the name correctly, in the Grand Imperial Hotel.

After Silverton, the second vehicle broke off from roadtrip, to head back to Washington. It was just me and Big Ed, then, heading on to the highlight of this entire roadtrip, which was about the halfway point.

Taos, New Mexico.

I have been to many well-known tourist towns. Taos, New Mexico and Leavenworth, Washington are the best I have been to.

Riding mountain bikes, we explored all over Taos, including north of town to the Taos Pueblo, taking the tour.

I had the best Mexican food I remember ever having, in Taos, at a place called Fred's. In New Mexico, in a restaurant, virtually anything you order comes with green salsa. 

After Taos, it was on to Alamogordo, White Sands National Monument, Bisbee, Tombstone, Yuma, Las Vegas, then a beeline back to Washington.

It really has been way too long since I have roadtripped. The last semi-roadtrip was way back in October of 2018, driving to Arizona....

Remembering San Juan River Bridge Leaps To Many Memories

Another memory from Microsoft's OneDrive Memory from this Day that I remember fondly. Though this took place in October, not April.

Way back in the final days of 1993 I was on my way to Moab. The day before had been spent at the Grand Canyon, overnighting in Flagstaff.

On the way to Moab I drove into Monument Valley. Driving in Monument Valley one feels like one is in a movie.

Leaving Monument Valley, continuing north, you leave the Navajo Nation when you come to the border between Arizona and Utah, with the San Juan River marking the border, at the location where I left Arizona to cross into Utah.

Crossing that bridge upon which you see me standing atop the arch, to the left of the bridge, I saw this incredible looking lodging facility nestled against the cliff. I remarked that one day I want to come and stay there.

The next day, in Moab, was New Year's Day of 1994. That day I went to Arches National Park and Canyonlands National Park. From Islands in the Sky in Canyonlands, I saw mountain bikers biking the valley, far below.

I vowed then that when I was back in Washington I would get a mountain bike and return to Moab to mountain bike.

I did so, but it was a couple years later that I made it back to Moab with my bike, to ride with a group called MudSluts.

Before returning to Moab, I went houseboating on Lake Powell. This was a group adventure involving six floaters in one boat and two vehicles. I made the reservations for the trip, the houseboats, North Rim Grand Canyon log cabins, the Lodge in Zion National Park, Excalibur in Vegas and a fun oasis called Stovepipe Wells in Death Valley.

But, the best reservation I made that trip was booking rooms at that lodging facility I'd seen when crossing the San Juan River, years previous, the San Juan Inn in Mexican Hat.

Five years later the Lake Powell houseboat experience was repeated, with a larger group of floaters. That time we also stayed at the San Juan Inn in Mexican Hat.

I forgot to make mention of the Moki Dugway.

Leaving Lake Powell, the route to Mexican Hat, well, the one I chose, both times, takes one to the brink of a precipice. A big warning sign tells you to stop and assess the risk. The Moki Dugway is a primitive road which steeply switchbacks back and forth to the valley floor.

The driver in the second vehicle had a panic attack, so a driver from my vehicle took over driving the other vehicle while the panicked driver put a pillowcase over his head and swilled vodka. His wife was also borderline hysterical.

The second time down the Moki Dugway three vehicles were involved. No one panicked that time. At least, no one panicked that I was aware of.

So, did the San Juan Inn in Mexican Hat turn out to be as fun as I hoped?

Yes, it did. The San Juan Inn has a trading post attached. And a restaurant, where everyone running the place was Navajo. Our waitress was always a friendly Navajo beauty who greatly appreciated our interest in her people. This location was my first experience of having Indian Fry Bread. So good.

Our waitress told us several things, including the fact the Navajo refer to themselves as "Dine", which literally means "The People".

I used to go on roadtrips at least once a year. Sometimes real long roadtrips. Since moving to Texas, the only roadtrips have been driving back to Washington several times, once to Arizona.

I don't think roadtripping to Oklahoma and Louisiana count...

The Return Of The Shadow Of The Tandy Hills Thin Man

Yesterday I needed two layers, a windbreaker and a wool hat to survive the icy Tandy Hills. Today the sun was back, I only needed one layer, no windbreaker, due to there being no wind, and I probably should have not had the hat on.

As you can see, due to my weakened condition I am now using a walking stick. Also known as a cane.

A couple days ago Alma, the Songbird of the Texas Gulf Coast, announced the shocking news that she'd been advised that maybe it was time for her to start using a cane. Alma and I then commiserated about our co-misery.

I heard the phone ring and go to voice mail whilst I was eating lunch and watching John Wayne and a Stagecoach get chased by Indians in Monument Valley.

It seems like I was just in Monument Valley. But it was at least 13 years ago. This is very disturbing for me to realize. That means it is at least 13 years since I've driven down the Moki Dugway and stayed in Mexican Hat at the San Juan Inn.

Enough of thinking about the depressing fact that time flies by.

After I was done getting aerobicized on the Tandy Hills I went to Town Talk. Busiest I have ever seen it. Which is the same thing I said last Saturday. This must have to do with Christmas. But I don't remember this phenomenon last Christmas. The warehouse was open again. I did not get organic grapefruit this week. But, I did get a case of V-8, sirloin steak, lasagna, shrimp and other stuff I'm forgetting right now.