A clear morning - perfect for sightseeing and scoping out
prehistoric Indian ruins. So we went off to do just that.

A very pretty ride down 502 and then rte 4 toward Los
Alamos: we stopped at the breathtaking overlook at White
Rock (views up and down the Rio Grande Valley and a very
beautiful tributary waterfall) before continuing to
Bandelier National Monument, the site of an Anasazi town of
about a thousand years ago. Carol, despite the bum knees,
looked forward to the standard loop trail, which encompasses
the valley settlement Tyuonyi, the cliff dwellings, and the
long house. A moderate crowd, and we wondered what it would
be like during school vacation - hundreds of hikers and
a hundred degrees at the same time: a recipe for hell on
earth. But here in March, aside from the bottleneck at the
cliff dwellings that you're allowed to go into, the
experience was just fine, and there were moments when you
could look around and not see anyone. Ah, yes, deer in the
valley, which enchanted the tourists (but I could barely
make them out). There is another trail that involves a
140-ft rise on four ladders, and we passed on that, and the
waterfall trail that goes all the way down to the Rio
Grande was earmarked for another year. But we had a very
nice and not too strenuous hike. So still energetic and
flushed with success, we proceeded to Tsankawi, which I'd
hoped was more of a wilderness experience: it's a less but
not "un"developed part of Bandelier, just north of White
Rock. An exhilarating 2-mile hike yields the ruins of an
ancient hilltop pueblo, plus some cliff dwellings and a
few really neat petroglyphs.

Back to the main highway and a turn onto 503, which is also
a very pretty ride, to the Rancho de Chimayo for a pitcher
of sangria and an early dinner.

A very cheerful waitress, when we dithered about guacamole
or salsa, served us both; unlike lesser restaurants, which
serve salsa for free, there's a charge of $2.95 here - but
she ended up charging us only for the more expensive guac.
The salsa is exceptionally tart but only moderately spiced.
The guac is unexceptionable and made to look a lot bigger
by being piled on shredded lettuce (which I ate, with
someone who shall remain nameless cooing "gooboy, eat your
vegibibbles" in the background).

Sangria was respectable but had too much ice. I believe it
was made with Santa Fe Vineyards Tinto.

Carol, untrue to form, had carne asada, half a pound of
sirloin, almost unrecognizable for being blanketed with
cheese and for having endured marination in something that
tasted kind of like Italian dressing. This came with pretty
standard refritos and rice.

My combinacion picante consisted of a typical pork red chile
tamale and cheese enchilada and a very atypical adovada that
was marinated slices from the leg or shoulder (not sure
which, under the red chile). Sides: whole beans and posole.
I enjoyed the adovada and may make it this way sometime.

Good puffy sopaipillas come with, all you want. You drizzle
or dip them in honey, and there's no need for dessert.

Nonetheless, we got a natilla to share: it was much more
like ordinary vanilla pudding than others I've had, but I
liked it for the vanilla intensity. Carol thought it was
too similar to Jell-O brand.

There was no need for another meal this day, so we just had
a drink at the famous Dragon Room bar. To be brief, I don't
know what the big deal is - the decor is funky (a dragon in
the men's room can be seen through a window to the bar side,
from which a life-size monkey gazes at him), but to me that
doesn't make up for the smokiness and for the lack of draft
beer. I had a Santa Fe pale ale, very floral, and Carol had
a margarita; there was no incentive to remain, as the place
was beginning to fill up with what appeared to be waitstaff
from other restaurants, all women in their early 20s, all
dressed in black, all smoking like chimneys.