Some days are made for wandering. I left the house early with a full tank of gas, a list of places I wanted to see in the Jemez Mountains, and no idea what surprises the day would hold.
My first stop was the Jemez Pueblo Visitor Center. This was my first visit onto a reservation, and I wasn’t prepared for how beautiful the land would be. The red cliffs seemed to rise out of nowhere, and the landscape felt both peaceful and ancient. Before continuing on, I wandered through the visitor center, explored the small museum, admired a colorful courtyard mural, and found a few souvenirs for my grandsons.
Next on my list was Gilman Tunnels. Another beautiful surprise! I really had no idea of what to expect. A woman I met in a shop in Santa Fe suggested I stop there if I was in the area. The tunnels were about five miles off of a main road that meandered along a small river and into the foothills of the mountains. The road narrowed into a one-lane road carrying two-way traffic. Thankfully, I never met another vehicle. As I rounded the final curve, the first of two tunnels appeared, seemingly carved straight through solid rock. It was hard to imagine trains once passing through these narrow openings. The tunnels were blasted through Precambrian granite in the 1920s so logging trains could reach Guadalupe Box Canyon. After I had gone through the second tunnel, there was enough room to pull over, get out, and look down into the canyon with a small waterfall and river running through. I was a little nervous about where this road went and if I would find another place with enough space to turn around, so I went ahead and turned around. As I headed back toward the highway, I couldn’t help but think… It’s pretty amazing what you might find just a few miles off the main road.
Eventually I rolled into Jemez Springs, a tiny mountain town dotted with art galleries, hot springs, and old southwestern charm. It felt like the kind of place where people linger instead of hurry. I wandered through a couple of art galleries before stopping at the local saloon for lunch. I ordered New Mexican tacos, curious how they would compare to the Tex-Mex version I’d always known. The meat wasn’t seasoned the way I expected, and instead of being smothered in cheese, they were served with chile sauce on the side. They even came with black olives—a combination I’d never had before but ended up loving.
The next part of my trip was completely magical. As the road climbed higher into the mountains, the scenery began to change. The red rock gradually gave way to towering pines, shimmering aspens, and evergreen trees that looked as if they belonged on a Christmas card. Until that day, I hadn’t realized this side of New Mexico even existed. Now this Texas girl was in her happy place. I hadn’t even realized how much I’d missed the smell of pine after spending more than a month in the high desert. I pulled into a small parking area where a Boy Scout troop was gathered in a circle nearby. I tried not to disturb them as I walked a little way down a trail, found a fallen log to sit on, and just breathed in the cool mountain air and the forest smells. The towering pines reminded me of the forests back home. I kicked off my shoes and put my feet in the grass for a bit before I got back on the road.
For a few quiet minutes, I forgot all about my itinerary. I just sat there with my feet in the grass, breathing in the mountain air, grateful to have stumbled onto a little piece of home in the middle of New Mexico.
