Monday, May 06, 2019

Half a Dozen Trips That Will Amaze Your Kids!

 A view from the hiking trail at the Kasha-Katuwe Tent Rocks National Monument. 

 Miguel Atencio, a reader of this column, wrote to me via email asking if I had any suggestions for day trips for him and his 11-year-old son. I thought that was a great question, as parents of school-age children begin to make plans for summer vacation. Below are six ideas for day trips with kids.

1. Karl G. Jansky Very Large Array: Roughly 40 miles west of Socorro, this facility is one of the world’s premier astronomical radio observatories, consisting of 27 radio telescopes. A self-guided walking tour features large, informative signs and takes you to the base of one of the giant dish antennas. An absolute must-see destination for everyone.

2. Hiking in the Jemez Mountains: The East Fork Trail on the Jemez River via the Las Conchas Trailhead on Route 4 is easy and interesting. There are also a pair of trails at Battleship Rock, including one on the right-hand side of the rock that leads to McCauley Hot Springs. 
3. Uranium Mine Museum in Grants: They dug a facsimile of a mine in the ground, equipped it with a full array of mining equipment and then built a museum on top of it. A former miner was leading tours the last time I was there.

4. Take the Rail Runner to Belen: At the Belen station, go south on the pedestrian bridge to get to the Harvey House Museum and the Belen train yard.  This is one of the busiest train hubs in the southwest, and the Harvey House has a shady portal from which to watch the action. Across the street is Pete’s Cafe, and the Doodlebug, an articulated one-car commuter train from the early 20th century, is about a block away.
5. Kasha-Katuwe Tent Rocks National Monument: About 50 miles north of Albuquerque, this place is full of natural beauty with a hiking trail that winds up and around unforgettable and stunning rock formations. Just remember that dogs are forbidden in the monument, even in your car.

6. Sandia Man Cave and Tinkertown Museum: These are sure-fire kid favorites and close to Albuquerque — just on the other side of the Sandias. You can see them both in one day and then top it off with an ice cream cone on the drive home. You’ll be a hero! 
Jon Knudsen is a freelance writer and retired educator. Email him at

Friday, April 05, 2019

Chloride: A Ghost Town Explained

My article for NMMarketplace this month is about the town of Chloride.  Basically a ghost town, it was born, lived and died all within 15 years.  7,000 Chloridians...gone.  But you can still visit!

Sunday, March 31, 2019

One More Click on the Big Clock: The Burt's Tiki Lounge Neon About to Bite the Dust.

DOWNTOWN -- Some of our best neon signs hung in front of bars.  Now Burt's, according to an early post on Albuquerque's Craig's List, is about to be dis-connected and de-hung.  I wrote about it on my FB page.

They were giving it away for FREE to anybody who was willing to remove the whole thing.  Here's a screenshot of the ad.

Other signs I miss (but not the bars particularly) were The Tropics Bar and Jacks Or Better Lounge.

The Tropics Bar sign was a kind of a leafy palm tree that reminded me of a poor man's Paul Klee.  The Jacks Or Better featured a pair of jacks in neon surrounded by flashing incandescent bulbs.  It was glorious.

  The Tropics sign was destroyed.  Jack's was taken back to Zeon Signs were it was repaired and apparently picked up by a private party.  I heard somebody say former mayor Martin Chavez ended up with it.

At any rate, here's hoping the city or a museum sees fit to preserve it...even if they don't know what to do with it at the present time.  Neon itself is endangered.  Twenty years from now, nobody in New Mexico will be making neon or even repairing it.  Let's hang on to what we have.

Tuesday, March 26, 2019

One Click on the Big Clock: Dick Bills Band with a young Glen Campbell.

From the photo archives of the Albuquerque Museum c. 1955.  Silver gelatin print. A gift of Joyce Graves Barefoot.

Monday, March 25, 2019

From my morning email inbox... The Mercury Messenger. V.B. Price's weekly newsletter.

V. B. Price once again hits the nail on the head!  Who do you trust in the era of "sponsored" news?

"The trickery of our culture is seen clearly in how plastics manufacturers talked us into an all but useless passion for recycling their products so we’d be preoccupied with our own false guilt while the manufacturers themselves keep churning out millions of tons of whale-killing plastic bags and thingamabobs."

Who Do You Believe in a Post-Truth Era?  
Who Do You Believe in a Post-Truth Era?

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Ten Years Ago Mike and I Rode Through New England on Bicycles. Here Is What We Posted.

Normally this is the most difficult commentary to write since the journey is over. We have traveled more than 600 miles through some rigorous highways in what the North East weathermen describe as the wettest spring in the last 20 years. Some areas experienced over 5 inches of rain in less than an hour. This is more rain that I have seen in NM in the last 20 years, total.
I must say that the bulk of the people we encountered were relatively happy to see us. Even with their gracious hospitality I couldn’t help but feel the overall disappointment in the outcome of the season. This had been the rainiest two years that the NE had seen in a long time.
The rain and the economy had discouraged tourists from coming and even camping in the area. In these parts the tourist season lasts approximately 150 days. 26 straight days of rain can really put a damper on the earnings potential of the community. That being said I pray for dryer days ahead.
In any ride there are certain adjustments that one must make. The physical, the mental, and believe it or not there is a spiritual adjustment.
There is the process of getting used to the ride (physically). As much training as you think you have done your muscles, tendons, heart, and lungs all need to get used to a six to eight hours of constant peddling. The tender part of your backside cannot be ready for the repetitious cycle that the thighs require and therefore your rump needs time to accustom itself to the shape of the bicycle seat. Hands become numb with your weight pressed against your palms and your arms continuingly being held in one position. To overcome this you must remind yourself to exercise and stretch even as you are riding or you will end up with prolonged paralysis in your fingers that may take months to work out.
Second one must rely and work together with your partner to make plans, follow maps, determine stops, and where and when to eat. You must both be flexible and willing to discuss even the most mundane of decisions before running off on your own. By the way Jon and I haven’t always found that our friendship sailed on calm seas; but we both have always had the common sense to meet each other half way. If you ever decide to make this type of journey a goal and are intending to have company remember tolerance and understanding hold the key to good relations.
Maybe the most important process is the ability to mellow into the hour after hour of mental deliberation. Meditation is something that one ought to cultivate long before beginning the trip. To meditate successfully you must be able to focus your consciousness and at the same time be aware of all that is happening around you. Cars and trucks are passing you with phenomenal speeds and bulk, changes in routes occur without much warning, roads lack adequate space for cars much less bikes, and above all you must know where your partner is at all times.
Once this mental talent is accomplished you can concentrate on the solitude and contemplation of the moment. You will not be dissuaded by incumbent weather, traffic or hours of deserted highways. Over the hours that it takes to cover miles and miles of road your mind is free to explore its own relevance. You have time and mental clarity to allow your perspective to open. I would find these journeys rather mundane without the opportunity to practice the spiritualism afforded me by the simplicity of the journey.
The several treks that I have been privileged to participate in have inspired moments that are etched into my mind. Butterflies that land on my handlebars, the slug that catches a ride in the rain, and the occasional lizard that races you along the shoulder of a hot dusty road, these are all about us but we rarely take or are afforded the time to focus on the most basic gifts.
This journey is much like many others I have ridden and I hope like many more. I hope that I can keep in mind to stop and observe the gifts that surround me whether I am biking, walking or just sitting. And that I always appreciate the journey.
Thank you for joining us on this ride and I hope all of you take the chance and enjoy the experience.

Thursday, July 09, 2009

Fort Ticonderoga

We rested a day at Ticonderoga, New York on Sunday after the 4th. This would have been our twelfth day on the road without a break and it was time. The sun was up, the sky was clear and this is an interesting historical area.
The area is described by the Mohawks as “the place between the great waters”. The great waters being Lake Champlain and Lake George. The neck of land overlooking the only open waterway between these two lakes was strategic in controlling travel between north and south in this area. The French felt that this was meaningful stronghold to control the British from moving into Canada and in 1755 built a fortress atop this peninsula named it Carillon.
The French army outnumber 5 to 1 were successful in holding off more than 10,000 British soldiers at the Battle of Carillon, July 8, 1758. This was the bloodiest day in American history before the Civil War. At the time the French were also engaged in Europe with the 7 year war and were forced to abandon the fort to the British the following year. Before they left they ignited the powder magazine which did considerable damage to one side of the fort. The British controlled the fort for the next 16 years.
On May 10, 1775 Ethan Allen and Benedict Arnold and the Green Mountain Boys- marked the first victory of the Revolutionary War by capturing the fort. The story goes that Ethan Allen and Benedict Arnold both had the same idea and headed out to the take over the fort separately . On the way they joined forces. Arriving in the dead of night with 84 men they came upon the century who was taken by surprise and whose signal musket was dampened by the wet weather would not fire. The men then walked into the fort without a shot being fired and woke up British commander took him prisoner.
George Washington had the cannons hauled back in a monumental feat to Boston to defeat the British war ships. Many cannons have been returned to Fort Ticonderoga but only one has been positively identified and an original. The Fort has been in and out of disrepair for many years and after the Revolutionary War was deemed by George Washington not to have any significant value militarily to the USA. It was left to ruin until Stephen and Sarah Pell bought it in 1909. Sarah and her Grandson restored much of the fort and left it to the Fort Ticonderoga Association who has overseen this historical educational program.
As you walk through the peaceful woods that surround the fort there is an eeriness that arise from knowing that so many have died on this hill.

Monday, June 29, 2009

Sleepy Time Motel to Bridgton, Maine

This morning was rainy and the highway was wet. This gave way to more rain and wetter highways. Lunch had an intermediate light shower followed by a drizzle followed by heavy showers and rain. Most of our equipment is water proof. We on the other hand seem to be less than water resistant. Breakfast was secured at the local Subway, Chinese, Dunkin Donut express lane at the junction of a highway and an interstate. I am not sure but I don't think that Dunkin Donuts were started by the religion of the same name. The temperature was tolerable and really quite acceptable with little need for a jacket except to shed the water. The lakes "Small Lake" and others were very pretty. I'm sure once illuminated by the sun they must be spectacular. I climbed down to see a tree that had a rope swing that must be used to jump into the stream but by the time I walked through the growth of grasses and weeds I was already soaked. Then the mosquito's smelled me and it was a hasty exit to the highway.
Bridgton had a Laundromat where two young lady's realized that Jon and I had no business in trying to wash our own clothes. They both worked there and had a responsibility to the owner to keep it damaged free. Believe it or not there are procedures to washing clothes in a laundry mat. When they realized that I was taking off everything I owned to wash and dry, they directed me to the Lost and Found. "Please find something in that pile and put it on" as they pointed to a large basket of discarded clothing. After we had loitered for a few hours they assisted us in finding a hotel in the local phone book. I believe they thought we were homeless and were not leaving until the rain stopped. Now we are at the First and Last Motel in Bridgton and are glad to be here.
We have a short day tomorrow to a town just below a hill of 2,900 ft. We will stay there tomorrow tonight and begin the climb on Wednesday.

See Below:

Sunday, June 28, 2009

Bar Harbor to Freeport, ME

Freeport, ME to Auborn, ME Sleepy Time Hotel

We we spent last night in Freeport where LL Bean never locks their doors. Why would you people are spending money night and day. We were so used to the rain we waited until it started raining to leave.

Friday, June 26, 2009

Bar Harbor, ME to Blue Hill

Geddys is a bar and Crabby place by the sea. We ate there before we got started.

This was taken in Acadia Park

We finally had to leave Bar Harbor in the fog. It wasn't pretty and we thought we would have rain. Luckily it didn't rain until we reached the hotel.

We got lost and headed too far towards the Ocean. By the time we figured it out it cost us 18 extra miles. That night we stayed at the Blue Hill Barn B & B. We straggled in like two wet cats and the proprietor felt so sorry for us she gave us some of her brother's Lobster stew. It was fantastic.

Everything seemed to be going fine until this turn.

We didn't know how lost we were until we found the red cones. Apparently we mosied into an area that was being worked on.

Sunday, December 14, 2008

The Sunday Poem: Russell Libby... Applied Geometry

American Life in Poetry: Column 194

Father and child doing a little math homework together; it's an everyday occurrence, but here, Russell Libby, a poet who writes from Three Sisters Farm in central Maine, presents it in a way that makes it feel deep and magical.

Applied Geometry

Applied geometry,
measuring the height
of a pine from
like triangles,
Rosa's shadow stretches
seven paces in
low-slanting light of
late Christmas afternoon.
One hundred thirty nine steps
up the hill until the sun is
finally caught at the top of the tree,
let's see,
twenty to one,
one hundred feet plus a few to adjust
for climbing uphill,
and her hands barely reach mine
as we encircle the trunk,
almost eleven feet around.
Back to the lumber tables.
That one tree might make
three thousand feet of boards
if our hearts could stand
the sound of its fall.

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (, publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. Poem copyright © 2007 by Russell Libby, whose most recent book is "Balance: A Late Pastoral," Blackberry Press, 2007. Reprinted from "HeartLodge," Vol. III, Summer 2007, by permission of Russell Libby. Introduction copyright © 2008 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction's author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006. We do not accept unsolicited manuscripts.

Thursday, April 24, 2008

Bike and Trailer: Ready for Road Trials

NOB HILL--Before starting on the Transamerica bike trip, I went on a little jaunt along the Malpais to test out the equipment. Here everything is ready to go, waiting on the porch for Bob to arrive. His wife Wendy drove us out to Grants. We then biked south to Quemado.