I woke up in Raton, in the only chain motel of my visit. I headed into the picturesque historic district of the town, which had been an important stop on both the Santa Fe Trail and later on the railroad 
that made the trail unnecessary. It is a town at the mountain pass of both routes, which is difficult terrain for travel, but one which also provided some protection from Native Americans in the area that preyed on the Trail. So far in my trip, I had encountered villages and larger towns like Santa Fe, but had not seen the standard American small town in New Mexico. Raton was this kind of small town.
I walked down its main street, which had seen a cold snap of 15 degrees in the previous day, stopping first in a store trading Indian crafts. I wandered amidst the usual collection of crafts, jewelry, and art. The most unique item was a storyteller image of St. Patrick, which included information about his daughter, Barbara. This was a new element in the Patrick legend. Of course, the store clerk could offer no help on the question of Patrick, but he suggested that I visit the Shuler Theater before I leave town. He warned me that the manager does not keep regular hours, so I might find nobody there yet this morning.
I walked over, and found the theater closed. However, just as I was turning away, an elderly man in a Prius honked repeatedly at me while he attempted to lower his windows. He turned out to be the aging manager. Dependent on a cane, he let himself in through a side door, then opened up the main entrance for me. He also escorted me through the theater, which is celebrating its 100 year anniversary in April 2015. Originally a Vaudeville theater, it has been maintained over the century and continues to host concerts and plays. The manager has been there since the 1960’s, and has been recognized by the state Arts Council for his work. The stage was set for next month’s performance of The Christmas Carol by local actors.
In addition to the impeccable condition of the theater, and the town’s ongoing commitment to the performing arts, the theater retains three of the original painted screens. I only saw the corner of one, which indicated that it contains local scenery. The manager would have liked to talk with me for hours more, particularly when he learned I am a folklorist, as he had worked in the Ozarks with folk arts early in his career. Unfortunately, none of the people I spoke to that morning advised me to visit the old depot, which is built in the mission style and, from the pictures I saw later, quite beautiful. 
I headed south along the trail. The guide I was using highlighted both a Santa Fe Trail Heritage Museum and the historic Brown Hotel in Springer, another town further south on the trail. I arrived expecting to enjoy both, but was disappointed. The museum was closed 
for the season, so I was only able to wander around the outside, trying not to slip on the icy sidewalks. Likewise, the hotel was closed, and the salon employee next door told me that had been the case for a year and a half. In fact, a for sale sign sat in front of the historic structure. The rest of the town seemed like a fading small town from anywhere USA. I had no other place to stop, so I pressed on.
My next stop along the trail was the Fort Union National Monument, part of the National Park Service. The fort was originally built after the US obtained the land following the Mexican-American War. A first fort was built to protect the Santa Fe Trail. During the Civil
War, Confederates were successful in their push up the Rio Grande from the south, and a second fort was built to house a garrison of Union soldiers that eventually stopped the advance. Later, a final, more durable fort was built which housed a thriving community and clinic. However, once the railroad moved into the 
area, the Santa Fe Trail became obsolete as a route for settlers, and the fort declined. It was eventually abandoned, and even the bodies in the cemetery were disinterred and moved back to Kansas for reburial 
there. Over time, the camp fell into ruins, which is what remains as part of the monument. The day was blustery, and I walked along the path taking in American ruins, something I don’t recall ever seeing in this country before. In any case, it was local efforts to preserve the place–even in ruins–that created the park, which is now a part of the Park Service.
My next stop along the trail was the town of Las Vegas, the one in New Mexico not Nevada. My first stop was the Plaza Hotel for the lunch I had hoped to eat in Springer. The hotel is a gorgeously 
renovated building, which includes galleries exhibiting local artists. In fact, the dining room exhibits my favorite raredos of the trip. At a $750 price tag, I had to let it go. However, I wandered around the hotel admiring its current state. 
The contrast between Las Vegas and Springer could not be more clear. One was decaying and failing, and the other still had considerable life and activity.
The guide book had suggested that the Las Vegas plaza was the most beautiful in the state, so I next headed out into it. It contained a number of paths, sculptures, a gazebo, and a copy of the declaration by the US military leader who became responsible for control of 
the area following its acquisition from Mexico. 
In addition to the hotel, the plaza contains a mix of antique shops and galleries. I wandered into a few of them. The storekeepers were more low key than what I had encountered in Santa Fe and Taos, but the prices were still outside my range. I was tempted by a paint by numbers picture of a giraffe in the antique store, but determined it was not worth the $15 price tag, no matter how wonderfully retro it was. 
The gallery likewise contained my favorite model of the trip. 
Like I said, Las Vegas had a more low-key vibe than Santa Fe and Taos.
I decided not to stop at the Rough Riders Museum in town in an effort to make it to Santa Fe on time to return my rental car. I still had another stop to make before I got there, the Pecos National Historic Park, another National Park Service site. As I drove along I-25, it dawned on me that this was the first day I had spent considerable time on the road, something that is often inevitable when touring around the US. As I drove, my radio kept alighting on a station out of Raton. It was delightfully local, plugging the upcoming performance of A Christmas Carol, specials at local restaurants, etc. At this point in the trip, the DJ read aloud the local obituaries. Since there was nothing else to listen to, I learned the details of various recently deceased, as selected by their loved ones. It offered some insight into the area.
Ultimately, I arrived at Pecos National Historic Park, another set of ruins, or excavated remains, of a 
pueblo that thrived prior to the arrival of the Spanish colonials in the late 16th century, who built a large church and community in the area before the pueblo revolt of 1680, and then a smaller one after the Spanish reconquest of the area twelve years later. In time, disease and raids by Comanche on the pueblo reduced its population, just as the Spanish cities nearby 
became the center of activity. By the time trade along the Santa Fe Trail picked up in 1821, the pueblo was mostly deserted. It soon fell into decay. In the 20th century, it was excavated by archeologists. The current park offers a very detailed walking guide for visitors to understand the pueblo. When I arrived at the park at 3:30, the ranger informed me that I would need 90 minutes to walk the entire site, and that the center would be closed by the time I returned. However, the briskness of the day and my desire to get the car back to Santa Fe on time inspired me to complete the tour with enough time to watch the video inside the center before leaving for the day.
This was my last stop before returning to the Silver Saddle Motel and Santa Fe. As I drove along the highway, I reflected on how much I had been able to cover during the day. The Pecos video, narrated by Greer Garson, had noted how many travelers had passed through this area. It even highlighted people like me, traveling I-25. It had been an incredible and beautiful day, and I was glad I took the time away from the Santa Fe-Taos tourist areas to see this part of the state, although I had not been certain of my choice initially.
I got to Santa Fe in time to check in and unload my luggage. During my last stay, I had booked into the Cowgirl Room, but wound up in the Saddle Room. This time, my reservation for the Calamity Jane Room morphed into the Cowgirl Room instead. Regardless of this piece of quirkiness, the motel, with its quilts on the bed, kitsch, and friendliness, was as pleasant as I remembered it. I returned the rental car with 15 minutes to spare, then walked to the Jambo Shop and Cafe for a feast of East African food, my last in New Mexico for now. The chai and chicken stew were excellent, but I was grateful for the brisk walk back to the hotel to help digest after all the feasting of this trip.
So my trip to New Mexico is partially complete. I’ll be back to see you one day, southern New Mexico!