2008 - OCTOBER - CHRIST IN THE DESERT

CHRIST IN THE DESERT MONASTERY

Our Mexican/Hippy friend (I wish I could remember his name) had told us about a Benedictine Monastery way out in the desert. He said the turn to get there was about a mile north of the Ghost Ranch Visitor Center and then it was thirteen miles from there to the monastery. No big deal, piece of cake. Little did we know that the "driveway" was a winding, steep, narrow, dirt and clay road. The scenery was absolutely breathtaking, but I didn't dare take my eyes off the road, because sometimes the edge of the road was only 3 feet from a drop-off into a river and the sides of the road were big ditches.






We did meet a couple of cars, but one of us was able to find a spot to scoot over far enough for the other to get by. It took us about 45 minutes to drive 13 miles, but it was worth it.












The Cloister itself is a stucco building that is insulated with straw and while it is a fairly simple frame structure, there is lots of glass and in some ways it looks quite modern. It is nestled among the mountains, in the beautiful Chama Canyon and surrounded by miles of Government-protected wilderness. The electricity and water are solar powered. The men who serve there come from all over the world, but they all speak English. Most of the Cloister is off-limits to anyone but the Monks, but we were able to go into the Church and gift shop. There is a guest house for private retreats and guests are encouraged to take part in the Eucharist and the psalms, hymns and responses. We were able to see an example of the schedule in a pamphlet inside the entrance to the Church. All the items in the gift shop are crafted by the Monks. Theirs is strictly a life of work and prayer.

We looked around the Church and then went out onto the grounds. We took the path to the river we followed as we came in. We could only go so far til we came upon a sign that said Private Road Monks Only. I guess from there on, it was what you'd call "Holy Ground"? Plus, I think they kept their beehives down there and didn't want people messing with them.

There was a group of people there that had come over from the Ghost Ranch and we visited with some of them. One lady was from New Zealand and she is actually the one that took the picture that I'm using for my profile. I was sitting on a bench that had been nailed up between two trees and she walked up and said, "You must let me take your photo there!" So I handed her my camera and she did. Judy and I talked to her for some time as we walked and she was a delightful woman.

There was an on-site graveyard. Most of the graves belonged to Monks, but one was the grave of a guest of the Monastery that had wandered off alone to hike on the Mesa, had an accident and died. They don't allow that anymore. There is a series of hand made wooden Crosses that average about 5 feet tall, placed at certain points along the prayer path on the grounds. Being an Ashcraft or "craftsman under the Ash tree", I come from a long line of carpenters and craftsmen. The way each Cross was uniquely carved and crafted was particularly fascinating to me.

We spent a good bit of time and money in the gift shop. The Monks working in the shop were very friendly. Initially I was afraid to make eye contact, much less try and talk to one of them, but some were downright chatty. It was very quiet chatter of course. While Judy was still exploring the gift shop, I wanted to make one more visit to the church alone, just to take it all in. I went in and sat there for a while. In a few minutes, a tiny Asian Monk came in and went busily about doing something. I spoke to him and he gave me a very stern look. I guess I broke one of their rules and decided I'd better get going before I broke another one. I accidentally slammed the screen door behind me as I went out, so I took off into a power walk until I was out of sight.

It was a beautiful day and we could have stayed and stayed, but we had a couple more places to see before we left Abiquiu, so we headed back down the "driveway". The going was quicker than the coming and it didn't take near as long to get back to the main road. We met some hikers on the way and stopped to talk to them. They had hiked from the Ghost Ranch, which would have been about a 30 mile hike round trip!



We both wanted to look at the river again so we turned off the main road and found a spot where we could walk right into it. It was not deep where we were so I took my shoe off and stuck my foot in. The water was so clear and clean, but freezing. We stood there for a few minutes just taking in the beautiful scenery. It truly was Mother Nature at her very best that day. I forgot about something until Mona left a comment asking if the sky was really that blue. The sky truly that blue, and the balloon festival was being held in Albuquerque that week. Leaving the Monastery we could see some of the balloons floating through the air.

Anytime I go anywhere, I like to collect a few interesting rocks to take back to put in my flower beds. Several had caught my eye on the way in. Of course, since it was Federal property, I knew it wasn't a good idea to take any from here . . .

2008 - OCTOBER - NEW MEXICO

NEW MEXICO HERE WE COME!!

On Sunday, October 5th, Judy Jones and I left for a very long road trip. We drove the first day to Oklahoma City and toured the Oklahoma City Federal Building Bombing Memorial. We ate dinner at a cool restaurant along the river that runs through town and then drove until we got tired, and spent the night at a Comfort Inn somewhere. The next day we drove and drove some more. We were in Oklahoma for quite a while, and there was pretty countryside and interesting sites along the way, but I was most fascinated by the huge windmills that went for miles and miles. I had never seen any, and while most people I mentioned them to aren't that impressed with them, I think they are much more pleasing to the eye than an electrical power plant. They looked like giant dancing robots on the tops of the mountains. If I was listening to the right music I could sit and watch those things for hours. For some reason they remind me of WallE. Trying in some little way to help clean up the mess we humans have made.



ABIQUIU

We crossed over into Texas and I instantly got bored. Texas is a state that I can get a gut full of traveling through in a hurry. I don't have anything against Texas, we go there all the time to buy and sell horses, and have had some great times there. Billy Bobs in Ft. Worth is one of my favorite places in the world and we've made some great memories there, but the highway scenery is terrible.

We drove for about eight hours and made it to our destination for that day, Abiquiu, New Mexico. All we did that night was find something to eat and go to bed. The next day we had plans to tour the Georgia O'Keefe Home and Studio, but when we went to get tickets, the woman at the desk told us that tickets must be bought several months in advance. Who woulda thunk it? I guess we looked at her like she had two heads because she went on to say that people from all over the world come to see the Georgia O'Keefe Home and Studio. Whatever. We could take it or leave it. We asked what else there was to do around Abiquiu and she said "nothing". Well, I already knew there was the Ghost Ranch outside of Abiquiu. But first, I wanted to check out "inside" Abiquiu. We decided to have lunch at the Abiquiu Inn, which is next to the Georgia O'Keefe Tour Center, then we looked through the gift shop, then set out on our own "tour".

The town is surrounded by mountains, and tower after tower of layers and layers of rock. It really is beautiful and still relatively untouched. It's inhabited mostly by natives of the area and the only industry is tourism and arts and crafts, so it's somewhat impoverished, but still very quaint. We drove around in the Appalachia-like hills, up many dirt and rock roads (probably trespassing a time or two, but I figured they were accustomed to ignorant tourists), only to get to the end and have to turn around at a dead end or in someone's washed-out driveway.

We went back into one neighborhood, and I use that term loosely, as it was more like a compound. There was a fairly good sized mission-type church right next to what looked like a dive or honky tonk. There were several houses, some of them more like huts, and some of them had shops in them. We stopped at one hut/shop and went in. There was no one in sight, but we knew someone was there because there was the very strong aroma of something wafting through the door from the back of the house and it was not an old smell. It was the aroma of marijuana being smoked. I went to lots of concerts in the 70s and I know that smell. A few seconds later a very large, very mellow-looking Mexican/Hippy man appeared and asked if he could help us. We told him we were just looking around the town and we asked about his shop. He said the shop was a family business and everything in it was made, painted or crafted by a member of his family. He sold paintings, and small sculptures of birds and animals and jewelry. He had fabrics and yarns for sale that were colored with dyes made from the native vegetation. He also gave us a good bit of history about the area. He took us outside and showed us that just a few yards away, was Geogia O'Keefe's home, which was surrounded by a very tall stone fence. I had read about the 3 acre hacienda she had bought in 1945. We then told him about our experience at the Georgia O'Keefe Tour Center when we went to buy tickets, and how the lady told us there was nothing else to do there. He said that while Georgia O'Keefe had done much good for the area, the people that ran the Tour Center had not been kind to their town. He gave us the inside scoop on places to go and how to get there. We asked him if it was alright for us to go inside the church and when he assured us it was, off we went. It was a very simple church, but beautiful, and Catholic, of course. It was very similar to many Episcopal churches I have been in here. We poked around in the church for awhile and then headed North out of town.