Yesterday dawned cool and extremely windy. The wind direction made it sound even stronger here at Crystal Mesa, which caused us to switch our plans. We were going to hike at Bandelier National Monument, just northwest of Santa Fe, but we decided not to tackle 30 foot ladders in 50 mph winds. Instead, we headed down the Turquoise Trail toward the old mining towns of Cerrillos and Madrid (pronounced Ma' drid).These were two of several boom towns that formed in the late 19th century around the hopes and dreams of thousands of prospectors looking for silver. As the brochure for Cerrillos Hills State Park says, most of them had their hearts and backs broken by claims that rarely delivered. But while hope sprung eternal, these towns were bustling with hotels, bars and brothels.
Today, they couldn't be more different. Cerrillos looks trapped in time - dusty dirt streets, frontier storefronts and a mining museum. Madrid has become a bustling arts and tourist town, though still rough around the edges. Get off the main drag and you encounter dirt roads that will challenge your car and body alike. They could have trained the Apollo astronauts here.
We started our day at the aforementioned state park, which features hiking trails and the occasional historical mine. Like many people, I romanticize mining, assuming it's done in caves or underground caverns. Instead, these poor fellows staked their dreams on 20 foot holes in the ground. If they found anything at all, it was often lead, iron or manganese, not silver. Mostly, they found nothing. Native Americans mined the hills for turquoise and the Spanish for silver for hundreds of years. Frankly, we were underwhelmed by it all - guess you have to be a mining buff. Some pictures from our hike:
We also encountered our first snake of the trip
and a little cactus we dubbed the Charlie Brown Christmas Cactus.
After a fairly long hike, we moseyed into Cerrillos. The cast of the movie "Young Guns" posted a "thank you" to the townfolks on one of the storefronts and the church was a thing of beauty. Five minutes later, we were ready to leave.
Three miles up the road lies Madrid. We got rid of the trail dust with hot fudge sundaes (I can just picture Billy the Kid riding into town and demanding a Rocky Road sundae), then checked out a couple of the funky shops and high-end galleries.
On our way out of town, we set off to find the town cemetery. Marie at Crystal Mesa said it was not to be missed. Divided in half - Catholic cemetery on the right, secular cemetery on the left - it's known for its outrageous "headstones" and decorations. After a jarring climb up one of Madrid's residential "streets" and a stop to ask directions, we finally found it. And yes it was funky and strange and "a hoot", as one of the residents promised. But mostly Marie and I felt a strong sense of sadness there. The town graves were decorated eccentrically and extravagantly, but also with numerous very personal touches. Candles. Photos. Toys. Beer and tequila bottles. Pottery. You could really feel the loss. Plus, like the Catholic cemetery, it was so poorly kept. The dryness and cacti added to the desolation. We took a few pictures, but not with the same energy we expected.
This morning we discussed it with Crystal Mesa Marie (to differentiate from Union Bridge Marie), and we all agreed that perhaps cemeteries should be more like the one at Madrid, that we tend to sterilize death and loss with the perfectly manicured lawn and the rows of nice, neat headstones. I have to admit that we really felt the life AND death of those folks buried in Madrid.
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