A quick getaway to Albuquerque

Really? Three-and-a-half years since my last visit to Albuquerque? Dallas is farther away than Albuquerque, yet it is so easy to forget what an attractive destination our neighbor to the west is, and we're not just talking red chile and the balloon fiesta.

I had first thought about this short weekend trip less than a month ago while Sandy and I had been hiking in Caprock Canyons State Park. (Incidentally, just this morning I heard on NPR that CCSP has been designated an International Dark Sky Park.) Sure, Albuquerque doesn't have a herd of bison—and it certainly has lots of lights—but there are petroglyphs that depict all kinds of animals and other objects that were of importance to the native people who lived here centuries and millennia ago, and in addition, Albuquerque has a vibrant brew scene. The decision was made.

So, last Friday we packed up Sandy's SUV, Pearl, and headed out west, on a beautiful autumn day. It's really not much of a drive, about five hours or so without pit stops. The roads were fairly empty and devoid of tumble weeds as it was a calm day. We had a lunch picnic at the USS Veteran Memorial Rest Area just out side of Ft. Sumner, on the way to Santa Rosa. I mention it here because its sponsor, a local man by the name of Raymon Samora, put a bunch of money and energy into establishing this easily overlooked stop on US 84 where NM 203 turns off to Lake Sumner. A bit of an odd place once you start reading the memorial plaques that all mention Raymon Samora, who obviously wrote the text all by himself, if you know what I mean.

Equally odd (weirdly odd!) is the travel center at Clines Corners, which, according to the countless billboards in the final 15 miles leading up to this Eighth Wonder of the World, is "well worth waiting for." How can one not stop when kachina dolls, peanut brittle, and Black Hills gold are beckoning? And you certainly don't want to miss the fortune-telling, turban-wearing Zoltar in a wooden box ($1), aliens of all shades from pink to grey to—obviously! Gotta keep it real!—lime green, and gargoyles and skulls galore. It was all so exciting that we almost forgot to pee, the real reason for stopping, but the friendly crew of characters reminded us.

Onward to Moriarty, which is no more attractive than it was the last time I headed out west on I-40. But this time I had a co-pilot who Googled my favorite, "brewpubs near me open now," and so we ended up at Sierra Blanca Brewing, on the industrial eastern outskirts of town. It was around 4 p.m., and some of the locals had already congregated in the small taproom, flannel shirts, boots, caps, and all, while a couple of snotty-nosed kids were playing on the floor and a small mutt was harassing the offspring. Sandy felt assured that her selection of outfits for the trip was apropos.

Aliens on the TV?

Thanks to Mr. Google we had no issues finding Marriott's TownPlace Suites just off I-25, close to the airport. I had traded a ridiculously low number of points for a two-night stay, and now my status for 2026 has been elevated to Gold. I'd happily stay at this property again if for nothing else than the breakfast that featured homemade green chile. Friday night we went to the Nob Hill 'hood and enjoyed pizza at Il Vicino. Not much has changed as the pies are still affordable and yummy; only the Wet Mountain IPA has been rechristened the Canteen Brewhouse Flashback IPA. Different name, same great taste, and still the old low price for a 22-ounce pour.

Saturday started out (and stayed) sunny and without wind, and from our hotel window we could see half a dozen hot air balloons ascending. It was nippy, yet with the sun our hike in Petroglyph National Monument was as pleasant as it can be. While Sandy had passed through Albuquerque once or twice in the past, she really had not "been" to the city, and she certainly hadn't visited the lava flows. I had brought along the binoculars to get a better view of the rock etchings, and we kept discovering more and more of them among the black boulders. Our two-mile hike took around two hours as we kept looking at the primitive art in front of us. But even two miles can "wear" you out, and when we were done we pulled out our picnic supplies including a bottle of chilled chardonnay and enjoyed the afternoon sun.

It was a gorgeous day, and we continued enjoying the late afternoon at the newest La Cumbre location on the west side of the Rio Grande. Sandy is starting to get an idea that there are more beers than just Michelobs and Micheladas. On the way back to the hotel we stopped by the local REI but couldn't find anything that just screamed "buy me!" Dinner was a fairly anti-climactic affair at Los Cuates, a Mexican restaurant where I had eaten before but that has become way overpriced with crappy service and an unwelcoming atmosphere. Lesson learned.

Sunday's forecast was much less pleasant, and after light overnight rain we decided to change our planned hike in the Sandia foothills to a lazy stroll around Old Town. On the way we were shocked by the apocalyptic scene of homeless people under the freeway bridges, camping out in makeshift cardboard shelters, surrounded by shopping carts with their meager belongings and warming themselves near small wood fires. It was heart-wrenching. This is America? How shameful, and how sad. All this is just a hop-and-a-skip away from three popular breweries (Marble, Gravity Bound, and Ex Novo), and the new Sawmill Market, a posh and polished food court in a new, upscale housing development, is just a mile to the west.

Old Town, with its many art galleries and tourist shops, was fairly devoid of visitors on that dreary Sunday. Occasionally the sun would poke through the clouds, allowing the colorful metal garden ornaments to brighten up the scene. I especially enjoyed talking to the resident-for-the-day photographer in a co-op gallery in regard to the technique he uses for his stunning landscape photos; Sandy was more interested in silvery and turquoise things.

To round out the evening, we visited Gravity Bound and then Ex Novo, where we played a round of shuffleboard for the first time in probably 40 years. Sandy proved to be a tough contender, probably aided in her determination by the Nitro Stout. When we left Ex Novo, a three-block line of lowriders was slowly motoring by, showing off their stuff. Dinner took place in our hyper-luxurious, triple-upgraded suite in the incomparable Quality Inn where I had scored another freebie night. Had it not been for that upgrade we probably wouldn't have stayed there! But let's be real: It beat camping out under one of those freeway bridges, and our picnic supplies far surpassed Los Cuates. Thank you, Sandy, for being such an open-minded travel partner and keeping your humor, even while using the iron to spot bed bugs (which didn't show themselves, thank goodness)! 😂

Late Monday morning we headed home. This time we took the alternate route from Clines Corners via Encino and Vaughn to Ft. Sumner. We saw lots of healthy looking pronghorn, and Sandy entertained herself counting the number of cars that those mile-long west-to-east-coast trains are formed of. In Ft. Sumner we detoured to the Bosque Redondo Memorial, which unfortunately was closed, but at least we got to see the grave of Billy the Kid and his tombstone, which was stolen twice but eventually repatriated by a sheriff's deputy who flew out to California to retrieve it. Now a big iron cage keeps thugs from lifting it a third time.

With the last light of the late afternoon we rolled back into Lubbock. It was a very enjoyable weekend, and now it's time to think about Thanksgiving.

Jürgen