Santa Fe Summer
Passing through the Albuquerque airport, I have two distinct recollections. There’s an added layer from the year I lived there, but that is buried in the past, and different from what popped up. The first was an every similarity in look and feel to El Paso, and I spent two decades shuttling in and out of that West Texas Town. I had, at one time, images of Rosa’s Cantina, from the song?
But that imagery of El Paso — it’s the tile work and basic architecture around the airport in Albuquerque that brought up the sensations, that was quickly subsumed.
There were Boy Scouts, in uniform, floating around. I would guess then, that Philmont Ranch and Cimarron are still destinations, for the scouts. I did one or two trips there. Earned a belt buckle. Don’t recall much. I do recall long, hot bus rides. East Texas is 12 hours of two-lane black-top from anywhere fun in the west.
Santa Fe Summer
Austin used to have a straight through flight to Albuquerque, but from San Antonio, it’s an hour hop to Dallas, then just a little over an hour to Albuquerque. Jumping on the shuttle to Santa Fe? Rolling north on the highway, same highway I used to follow into Las Cruces, from El Paso. Feels the same.
A casual glance out the window, rolling through town, kept thinking of Spring Training.
Zia and mail
Three Indian Casinos later? This is New Mexico, not any place else.
Vincit Qui Primum Gerit
“First to arrive gets the best deal.” (Source.)
