A Train Trip to Santa Fe

The sign inside the car encouraging us to reflect on where we belong.

In New Mexico, the rail cars are divided between those that are quiet, calm, and courteous, and the rest of us.  I suppose it should come as no surprise that we were
kicked out of the Quiet Car.  But that is putting the end of the story first.  

Not far from where we are -- that is to say 45 minutes away -- there is a railroad station, from which you can take a train into Albuquerque and all the way to its other terminus, Santa Fe.  The boys were excited to go on a train, and I was eager to set foot in Santa Fe, so we got up early the other day and set off on the adventure.

The boys making themselves at home during the 2 1/2 hour train ride.

This may look like a random seat on the train.  It is not.  It is the perfect seat.  We should know.  We sat in a few far less perfect seats in different cars and on different levels before we found this -- perfect -- one. The perfect seats are on the top level, have a large, window and a table, and no arm rests to allow for closer seating.  They are also in a car quiet enough to allow them to hear me reading to them.

Inside the Albuquerque train station

We made one stop in Albuquerque, drank some hot chocolate, and were in Santa Fe by 11:15am.

The first stop had to be the Georgia O'Keeffe museum.  I'd long been a fan.  Is there anyone who isn't? Naturally, my photo does not do justice to her work.  I put one in as a testament to our having been there, in the presence of greatness.  Plus we had the added unexpected bonus of an Annie Leibovitz: Pilgramage exhibit.  Greatness times two.

Most of the paintings at the museum were not the ones with her most vibrant colors or her most most well-known. But O'Keeffe is quintessential boldness;  a trait forever captured in her name and work. 

O'Keeffe's camping gear, set up as she would, at the Black Place, a favorite.

Having said that, I was surprised to read O'Keeffe speaking about her fear. "I'm frightened all the time. But I never let it stop me. Never!”  She pushed through her fear to do what she felt like she had to do.  I'm sure there is a lesson in that.

And of the endless goings on about the flowers and their sexual overtones, which began in the context of art show which included nudes of her taken by her famed photographer husband, Alfred Steiglitz, O'Keeffe said this.  “I made you take time to look at what I saw and when you took time to really notice my flower, you hung all your associations with flowers on my flower and you write about my flower as if I think and see what you think and see—and I don't.”

Afterward, we countered the O'Keeffe museum with a stop by the Chuck Jones Gallery.  Worth a stop for Bugs Bunny (and Wile E. Coyote, Road Runner, Pepe le Pew, etc, etc) fans everywhere.

On the contrary, we were not allowed to take photos in the gallery.
My own photos should serve as reason enough!

This city recently celebrated its quadricentennial birthday; 400 years old!  That makes for an interesting town and, as a guy on the shuttle said, a lot of curvy streets.  Another guy on the shuttle, who said he was a member of the ROMEO club (Retired Old Men Eating Out) was on his way to the capital to fenagle a meeting and lunch with the senator.  We did meet plenty of very pleasant and engaging people, many marching to their own beat.

A construction worker driving with his dog.

As in Albuquerque, the Old Town Plaza is lined with people, Native Americans, selling their wares and crafts throughout the day.

Picking out a birthday present for their sister.

We had a great lunch out at The Shed, met a lovely Bernese Mountain Dog named Elsa, and visited the Cathedral Basilica of Saint Francis of Assissi.  I couldn't help but be reminded of visiting Assissi years ago with my sister and her family, getting stuck in the floor-to-ceiling turnstyle with a baby on my back (an everlasting story that still brings a chuckle to the family). -- and visiting many, many churches throughout a childhood spent in Europe.

A round of Shirley Temples made me wish all the kids were there for lunch!

And then there is the story of the Loretto Chapel and the Miraculous Staircase.  Perhaps you've heard of it.  It has been featured on Unsolved Mysteries.

The staircase has 33 steps and was made without central support and
originally without a railing or external side supports connecting to the column or wall.

As the story goes, the chapel was begun in 1873 as a chapel for the girls' school there started some 20 years earlier by the Sisters of Loretto.  The chapel had no staircase to get to the choir loft.  Normally that was not a problem since the choirs were typically made up of men who simply climbed a ladder.  This, however, was unfitting for the nuns to do.

The nuns prayed to St. Joseph for a carpenter.  On the 9th day, so the story goes, a man appeared who said who would make the staircase as long as he had absolute privacy.  It took him 6 months using spruce lumber, it is thought, from unkown origins, and only simple tools:  a saw, a carpenter's square, a hammer, dowels instead of nails, and water to help shape the wood.

According to legend, when the staircase was done, he left before he received payment.  The nuns put up a reward for his identity in order to pay him, but there was no response.  Because of the unusual circumstances, many have attributed the building of this unusual craftsmanship to Saint Joseph himself.

In the late 1990's, however, a local historian turned up a possible candidate for the work: an expert woodworker who emigrated from France, Jean-Francois 'Frenchy' Rochas around the same time.  Rochas met a violent death in 1895 which might account for why the nuns did not hear from him.  A notation was found in the church books making a $150 payment for lumber for Rochas.  In addition, a death notice in the New Mexican which said that he was the builder of the "handsome staircase" at Loretto.  Mystery solved?

Miracle or not, the staircase is a magnificent, even miraculous piece of work.

As for being kicked out of the quiet car?  Well, on the train back home, we found the Quiet car perfectly suited for reading the 3rd book of the Narnia series aloud.  We had been reading for about 10 minutes when the conductor came and very politely told us that we were being too loud for the quiet car and would have to move to another section of the train.