The low road from Taos is, in our opinion, more beautiful
than the high road. It follows the Rio Grande, and there's
some spectacular scenery on the way to Espanola. Once one
gets on the highway to Santa Fe, though, it's mostly pretty
boring. Some of the formations, such as Camel Rock, and the
ancillary architecture to the highway (erosion barriers,
bridges, and the like, adorned with native motifs) are kind
of fun.

Surprisingly, Carol was hungry for lunch, so we made the
obligatory stop at the renowned Tecolote Cafe, where we
were helped by a pleasant enough waiter who unfortunately
looked as though he had just jumped off a Dia de los
Muertos t-shirt. Carol's sheepherder's breakfast - potatoes
topped with green chile and eggs - was pretty ordinary,
except that the chile was quite hot. I think that she was
swayed by Michael Stern's gushing encomium to the dish,
else she'd have got something more interesting. I tasted
her food and opined that it was probably just like the
89 cent tax included breakfast at the casino down the way,
and she sort of nodded. Except that the 89c breakfast comes
with meat. I wasn't hungry but ordered a side of carne
adovada and a side of chicken livers ($4 something each).
The meat was pretty standard, a small (about 4 oz) serving,
fairly spicy, too lean. The chicken livers were out, so I
substituted a cup of green chile and a tortilla ($1 and
change), which was nice and hot. No alcohol here, so I had
the closest thing, root beer. It was a cheap meal, but we
didn't eat much, either.

The sky began to clear up a bit, so we decided to take a
look at the Tent Rocks National Monument. It's about 10
miles off I-25 on the state highway and then a few more down
a Forest Service road - takes about half an hour, mostly on
the rutted dirt road. Carol expressed a little doubt as we
headed deeper into Indian reservation scrubland, but then,
voila.

It's $5 a vehicle ($10 if your vehicle holds ten or more) -
one of the bargains of the century.

At first, it didn't look like much, but as we went deeper
into the area, the charms became manifest. We took the
easier loop trail (1.1 miles), which took us close to the
cliffs and the formations, then up to a neat cave, then
back down - much to see with little effort and only a
hundred or two of elevation gain. When we intersected the
longer and more taxing Slot Canyon Trail, I asked Carol if
we could go in just a little, and she finally agreed,
after hazarding a suggestion that I go on alone (I wisely
declined the offer). It was a really beautiful trail, and
we ended up doing about 2/3 of it, through a narrowing
canyon with a very gradual elevation gain, and up to the
end of the canyon and just about to where the trail turns
and becomes steep: at that point, the clouds started rolling
in a bit more, so we didn't press our luck and retreated. I
think Carol enjoyed the hike - we took at least 50 pictures
during it, most of them hers.

Back down to Albuquerque; for part of the drive at 75 mph,
the speed limit, it was in fact raining a bit, so I think
the decision to get out of the slot canyon while the getting
was good was a good one.

Checked back into the Econo Lodge, where they gave us a
bigger handicap access room (perhaps we were limping
noticeably?), and we put up our traps and walked back out
to the main drag and Monica's El Portal, a divey but clean-
looking joint that had caught our eye.

The only bad thing I can say is that there's no liquor
license. Okay, the decor is nothing and the noise level
high; but the food made up for everything. Carol had wanted
a margarita, but after a couple rounds of Dos Equis amber,
I heard no more about that.

She loves chile con queso and had had none during the trip,
so she ordered it here. It was about 12 oz, and she ate it
all. I thought it tasted like Velveeta; she adored it.

As that was enough calories for the day, she just had a
side of enchiladas de pollo, which was no-nonsense and good
- fresh shredded chicken, tortillas, cheese, green sauce
(very hot).

I had the sopaipilla relleno de chicharrones - the sopa
was pretty good but almost instantly done in by the big
slathering of red sauce; the cracklings were the size of
casino dice and bigger, so were an interesting mixture
of crisp and chewy. Satisfying and tasty, but, you know,
I'm forever spoiled by Abe's.

I just had to try the carne adovada, and 4 oz for $2.50
sounded like a pretty good deal to me. What came: 8 oz
for $2.50. It was a bit on the lean side, the chunks were
bigger than bite-size, and the red chile sauce was a bit
salty. I think it was designed to be put in a wrapper,
but I foiled them. I had a couple bites and saved the rest
for breakfast.

We were too full for dessert but split a natilla anyway.
It was a thin egg pudding with meringue folded in. What you
might call homestyle fancy. Carol liked it; I thought it
good enough but lacking the quirky interest of La Fonda or
the polish of the Rancho de Chimayo.