by Karon -

A Last Look at Albuquerque: Tramway, Petroglyphs & Route 66

Before leaving New Mexico, I had a few more things I wanted to see.

I’d been in Albuquerque long enough to know it probably wasn’t going to become one of my favorite places. The summer heat certainly didn’t help. But the longer I stayed and the more I explored, the more I found to appreciate—unexpected murals, quirky Route 66 stops, ancient rock art, and those enormous Sandia Mountains always looming in the background. Some of my favorite discoveries were actually outside the city, but they all added to my experience in New Mexico.

So, before packing up and moving on, I decided to have one last look around.

I decided to see Albuquerque from above.

I’d been looking at the Sandia Mountains for weeks, so riding the Sandia Peak Tramway seemed like a fitting way to finally get a closer look.

The tram travels more than two miles up the mountain, climbing to more than 10,000 feet. As it rose above the city, Albuquerque seemed to get smaller and smaller below me. The Rio Grande stretched across the valley, and the desert landscape spread out in every direction.

I’ve seen plenty of beautiful views during this nomad year, but there was something special about seeing Albuquerque from this perspective. From the ground, the city can feel sprawling and a little chaotic. From the mountain, it looked peaceful.

And, thankfully, considerably cooler.

The tram ride made me think about how sometimes you just need to change your perspective.

Literally.

If the tram gave me a new perspective on Albuquerque, my visit to Petroglyph National Monument took me in a completely different direction—back hundreds of years.

The monument protects thousands of images carved into the dark volcanic rocks along Albuquerque’s West Mesa. Some were created by Indigenous people, while others were carved by Spanish settlers centuries ago.

I followed the trail, looking closely at the rocks for images that can be surprisingly easy to miss.

A bird.

A figure.

A symbol.

A handprint.

It was fascinating to think about someone standing in this very place hundreds of years ago, carefully carving an image into the rock.

There was no grand building. No elaborate exhibit. Just rocks, desert, sky—and these little pieces of history still sitting right where they were left.

I liked that.

Of course, I couldn’t leave Albuquerque without a little more time on Route 66.

One thing I did enjoy about Albuquerque was how often something unexpected caught my eye. You didn’t always have to be looking for an attraction. Sometimes you just turned a corner and found something worth stopping for.

A mural.

An old neon sign.

A vintage building.

A sculpture that made me wonder what the artist was thinking.

And then there’s Route 66 itself, running through the heart of the city along Central Avenue.

Albuquerque has embraced its stretch of the Mother Road with murals, public art, historic signs, and plenty of colorful reminders of its past. In fact, the city’s new Route 66 Remixed project has turned an 18-mile stretch of the road into an art-filled journey featuring murals, sculptures, and other creative installations.

That felt very Albuquerque to me.

History, art, kitsch, culture, and a little bit of weirdness all mixed together.

I stopped for pictures whenever something caught my eye. Some were planned. Others were completely random.

Those might have been my favorite kind.

Looking back at my time in Albuquerque, I realize I probably won’t remember the city as a collection of major attractions.

I’ll remember the little things.

The colorful murals I stumbled across while driving around.

The Route 66 signs.

The quirky roadside touches.

The mountains appearing at the end of a street.

The enormous sky.

The petroglyphs hiding in the volcanic rocks.

And that first view from the tram when the entire city opened up below me.

Maybe that’s what travel does sometimes.

We arrive somewhere expecting to decide whether we like it or not. We make our lists and visit the places we’re supposed to visit. And then, somewhere along the way, the place becomes less about the things we checked off and more about the little moments we remember.

Albuquerque and I never became great friends.

But I found things here that I loved.

Art.

History.

Beautiful landscapes.

A few unexpected adventures.

And, as has happened so many times during this nomad year, I found a little more of myself along the way.

So this is my last New Mexico post—for now, anyway.

I’m leaving with a full camera roll, a few more stories, and the feeling that maybe Albuquerque didn’t need to steal my heart after all.

Maybe it was enough to simply give me something to remember.

by Karon -

Churches, Art, and a Musical Road: A Day on the Turquoise Trail

Before my day on the Turquoise Trail even began, I stumbled across one of the most unexpected things I’ve ever found on Route 66—a musical road! For about a quarter of a mile, special rumble strips play America the Beautiful as you drive over them at the speed limit. The first time, I was almost through it before I realized what I was hearing. Since the original signs marking the spot have been removed, I turned around and drove it again. Then I drove it a third time with the windows down, the A/C off, and my tires right on the rumble strips. Perfetto! The first time I ever experienced a musical road was during my years in Japan, so I was delighted to stumble upon one in Albuquerque.

You pick up the Turquoise Trail in Tijeras on the east side of Albuquerque. It’s a scenic byway (NM- 14) that runs from Albuquerque to Santa Fe through the Sandia Mountains. Native Americans mined turquoise here as far back as A.D. 900. Later, settlers also mined the area, giving the trail the name it still carries today.

I had barely started my drive when I saw the top of an old church with a small white cross against the blue sky. I just had to stop and take a look. Three people sat at a picnic table in front of the church having a snack. It turned out that they had spent the morning working on upkeep on the cemetery. I’m sure it was already close to 90 degrees, but they didn’t seem to mind the heat. They told me a little about the church, about the best place to eat along the Turquoise Trail, and about some other old churches along the way.

The San Antonio Mission Church, also known as Nuestro Señor de Mapimí Church, was built in 1886. It’s a small adobe church with a single white cross and has changed very little over the years. It wasn’t open, so I could only look at the outside and the grounds, but I was so glad that I stopped. It was just a quick look and a brief conversation with three strangers, but their warmth stayed with me as I continued on my way.

I drove on, following their directions to the next church about ten miles up the road. For this church, I had to wind up a little gravel road to the top of a hill. I would have driven right past it if not for their directions.. San Francisco de Asis Catholic Church was built in the 1830s to serve the miners and families of the first gold rush west of the Mississippi. To reach the church, I walked through a gate and along a path that meandered through a cemetery dotted with weathered wooden crosses. It felt wonderfully secluded. After the gold rush ended, the town gradually became a ghost town, and the church was abandoned before being rebuilt in 1960.

The next town on the trail was Madrid (pronounced Maa-drid), where the movie Wild Hogs was filmed. Until I talked with the church volunteers, I had no idea this was the town from the movie.

Madrid was such an artsy and quirky town. I had lunch at the Mine Shaft Tavern and wandered through several art galleries meeting and visiting with the artists in many of them. I was in a little bit of “hog” heaven.

One gallery featured the work of seven artists who are all friends, the youngest of whom is seventy-five. I think if I lived in this area, I would want to hang out with them. I left feeling so energized and inspired.

After I left Madrid, I lost my GPS connection and had to make the rest of the trip on my own. Lucky for me, it’s just a straight shot through to Santa Fe, but it was an unusual feeling to be completely on my own. I was reminded of traveling in my twenties with just an atlas and a general idea of where I was going. It felt kind of freeing to trust my instincts while following the directions of the people at the church to the next church in Cerrillos.

St. Joseph’s Catholic Church was established in 1884, but the current church was built in 1922. This time, the church was open. The historic artwork and stained glass were just beautiful. Most of the sculptures inside had a very Spanish and rustic feel. Outside there was an enclosed garden with a Pieta and other sculptures. The church is still active today.

The town of Cerrillos is a fun stop because it has an old west feel with dusty, dirt roads and an old, weathered hotel. During its heyday, it had 21 saloons and 4 hotels and was once considered a possible capital of New Mexico.

I drove on to Santa Fe and was pretty exhausted from all of the sightseeing in the heat. Even though I brought plenty of water, I felt dehydrated, so I headed home. All in all, a great day! There were still places I missed, but maybe that’s the beauty of a road like this. It gives me a reason to return.