The days here in Santa Fe have settled into a comfortable rhythm. Mornings are usually clear, afternoons climb into the 90s, and many evenings finish with welcome wind, distant thunder, and the occasional summer rain shower. Since my last journal entry on June 28, we’ve managed to pack an amazing amount into just a few days.
One of the highlights was a day trip to Bandelier National Monument. Like most visitors, I was captivated by the cliff dwellings and the remains of the ancient pueblo, but what surprised me most was the visitor center itself. We enjoyed an excellent lunch at Sirphey, whose shaded courtyard and welcoming atmosphere made it feel far removed from the typical national park cafeteria.
As much as I admired the archaeology, I found myself equally fascinated by the Civilian Conservation Corps architecture. The original furniture, handcrafted woodwork, fireplaces, and decorative details reveal an extraordinary level of craftsmanship. It is easy to overlook these Depression-era buildings while rushing to the cliff dwellings, but they are remarkable historical treasures in their own right.
Our Fourth of July took us to Los Alamos, where we stumbled upon one of the most enjoyable small-town Independence Day celebrations I’ve experienced. The morning began with a free pancake breakfast before the children’s parade made its way down the main street. It had exactly the sort of hometown atmosphere that seems increasingly rare.
After the festivities we spent the day exploring Los Alamos’s remarkable history. We visited the History Museum, walked through exhibits about the Women’s Army Corps who served during World War II, and learned about the Los Alamos Ranch School, whose campus became home to the scientists of the Manhattan Project. The school itself never reopened after the war, an extraordinary reminder of how completely history can redirect a place.
We also stopped outside the Oppenheimer House. Although it is currently undergoing renovation after being donated to the historical society in 2020, it was exciting simply to stand outside and imagine the conversations that once took place there. I would love to return once the restoration is complete.
Perhaps my favorite stop was the Hans Bethe House. Walking through it felt like stepping directly into the 1950s. The rabbit-ear antenna perched on an RCA Victor television, the vintage Kelvinator refrigerator, and the modest kitchen instantly transported me into the Cold War era. It was less like touring a museum than visiting someone’s home just after they had stepped out for the afternoon.
On the drive back toward Santa Fe we stopped for lunch at Buffalo Thunder Resort and Casino. The Iguana Café served one of the best enchilada plates I’ve had in New Mexico, complete with both red and green chile. Afterward we wandered through the beautiful resort before trying our luck on a few slot machines. Somehow we managed to leave fifty dollars richer than when we arrived—not a bad way to end lunch.
We also made an unexpected stop at Camel Rock. I remembered visiting it as a child, although the photographs from that trip have long since disappeared. As soon as I spotted the familiar profile from the highway, I knew we had to pull over. Some landmarks have a remarkable way of reconnecting us with memories we didn’t even realize we still carried.
One afternoon I spent nearly three hours wandering through the Museum of International Folk Art. It was one of those museums where every gallery offered something unexpected. A special exhibition of Acoma figural pottery was outstanding, but another exhibit, Truths Be Told, introduced me to the work of Peruvian ceramic artist Kukuli Velarde. Like Diego Romero, whose work I admired earlier in the trip, Velarde looks to the ancient cultures of the Americas while creating art that feels unmistakably contemporary. I seem to be discovering a growing appreciation for artists who respectfully reinterpret the past instead of simply copying it.
Not every day has been spent sightseeing. We’ve also been quietly transforming the RV into a home. New shoe racks and toothbrush holders have made life more organized, while postcards, photographs, and little souvenirs have begun covering the walls. Each small addition makes the coach feel less like a rental vehicle and more like our own tiny traveling home.
I’m already curious what it will look like after another three months on the road. Every postcard, photograph, and keepsake tells the story of another place we’ve explored. In many ways, we’re decorating not just the RV, but our memories of this journey.