… was signed in Mexico City on this date in 1853. The treaty settled the dispute over the exact location of the international border west of Texas and gave the U.S. approximately 29,000 square miles of land — in brief, Arizona and New Mexico south of the Gila River — for the price of $10 million. In the U.S. it’s known as the Gadsden Purchase Treaty.
The Mexican Republic agrees to designate the following as her true limits with the United States for the future: retaining the same dividing line between the two Californias as already defined and established, according to the 5th article of the treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, the limits between the two republics shall be as follows: Beginning in the Gulf of Mexico, three leagues from land, opposite the mouth of the Rio Grande, as provided in the 5th article of the treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo; thence, as defined in the said article, up the middle of that river to the point where the parallel of 31° 47′ north latitude crosses the same; thence due west one hundred miles; thence south to the parallel of 31° 20′ north latitude; thence along the said parallel of 31° 20′ to the 111th meridian of longitude west of Greenwich; thence in a straight line to a point on the Colorado River twenty English miles below the junction of the Gila and Colorado rivers; thence up the middle of the said river Colorado until it intersects the present line between the United States and Mexico.
Here’s a slideshow from Albuquerque’s “Snow-of-the-Century” — back before hoaxers started warming the planet — seven years ago today (about 25-26 inches at Casa NewMexiKen). Click for larger versions and slideshow, or scroll over image for caption.
Backyard bench, Friday afternoon.
Backyard bench, early Saturday morning.
The view from my computer.
Not a good day for mimosas in the courtyard.
A view in Sandia Heights, the westernmost Sandia Mountains in the background.
[First posted here seven years ago today. Like any list, not every one is LOL funny, but if you live in New Mexico you’ll be nodding in agreement with many.]
You don’t think it’s weird that everybody stares at you when you walk into the Frontier.
You snicker whenever someone from out of state tries to pronounce your last name.
You’ve had a school day cancelled because there was half an inch of snow on the ground.
You know what an Arroyo is.
Your high school’s name was a Spanish word (La Cueva, Eldorado, Sandia, Manzano…)
You still call the “Flying Star” the “Double Rainbow” and it’s still the best place to get dessert in the world!
There is a kachina somwhere in your home or yard.
You believe that bags of sand with a candle in them are perfectly acceptable Christmas decorations.
You have license plates on your walls, but not on your car.
Most restaurants you go to begin with El or Los.
You remember when Santa Fe was not like San Francisco.
You hated Texans until the Californians moved in.
The tires on your roof have more tread than the ones on your car.
You price-shop for tortillas.
You have an extra freezer just for green chile.
You think a red light is merely a suggestion.
You believe using a turn signal is a sign of weakness.
You don’t make eye contact with other drivers because you can’t tell how well armed they are just by looking.
You think six tons of crushed rock makes a beautiful front lawn.
You have to sign a waiver to buy hot coffee at a drive-up window.
You ran for state legislature so you can speed legally.
You pass on the right because that’s the fast-lane.
You have read a book while driving from Albuquerque to Las Vegas.
You know they don’t skate at the Ice House and the Newsstand doesn’t sell newspapers.
You think Sadies was better when it was in the bowling alley and the Owl Bar was better before they put in the turn-off.
You have used aluminum foil and duct tape to repair your air conditioner.
You can’t control your car on wet pavement.
There is a piece of a UFO displayed in your home.
You know that The Jesus Tortilla is not a band.
You wish you had invested in the orange barrel business.
You just got your fifth DWI and got elected to the state legislature in the same week.
Your swamp cooler got knocked off your roof by a dust devil.
You have been on TV more than three times telling about how your neighbor was shot or about your alien abduction.
You can actually hear the Taos hum.
All your out-of-state friends and relatives visit in October.
You know Vegas is a town in the northeastern part of the state.
You are afraid to drive through Mora and Espanola.
You iron your jeans to dress up.
You don’t see anything wrong with drive-up window liquor sales.
Your other vehicle is also a pick-up truck.
Two of your cousins are in Santa Fe, one in the legislature and the other in the state pen.
You know the punch line to at least one Espanola joke.
Your car is missing a fender or bumper (or a turn signal and aligned headlights).
You have driven to an Indian Casino at 3 a.m. because you were hungry.
You know the response to the question “red or green?”
You’re relieved when the pavement ends because the dirt road has fewer potholes.
You can correctly pronounce Tesuque, Cerrillos, and Pojoaque, and know the Organ mountains are not a phallic symbol!
You have been told by at least one out-of-state vendor they are going to charge you extra for international shipping.
You expect to pay more if your house is made of mud.
You can order your Big Mac with green chile.
You see nothing odd when, in the conversations of the people in line around you at the grocery store, every other word of each sentence alternates between Spanish and English.
You associate bridges with mud, not water.
You know you will run into at least three cousins whenever you shop at Wal-Mart, Sam’s or Home Depot.
Tumbleweeds and various cacti in your yard are not weeds. They are your lawn.
If you travel anywhere, no matter if just to run to the gas station, you must bring along a bottle of water and some moisturizer.
Trailers are not referred to as trailers. They are houses. Double-wide trailers are real houses.
A package of white flour tortillas is the exact same thing as a loaf of bread. You don’t need to write it on your shopping list; it’s a given.
At any gathering, regardless of size, green chile stew, tortillas, and huge mounds of shredded cheese are mandatory.
Prosperity can be readily determined by the number of horses you own.
A tarantula on your porch is ordinary.
A scorpion in your tub is ordinary.
A poisonous centipede on your ceiling? Ordinary.
A black widow crawling across your bed is terribly, terribly common.
A rattlesnake is an occasional hiking hazard. No need to freak out.
You actually get these jokes and pass them on to other friends from New Mexico.
… was established by President Theodore Roosevelt under the Antiquities Act 107 years ago today (December 8, 1906).
Paso por aqui . . . A reliable waterhole hidden at the base of a massive sandstone bluff made El Morro (the bluff) a popular campsite. Ancestral Puebloans settled on the mesa top over 700 years ago. Spanish and American travelers rested, drank from the pool and carved their signatures, dates and messages for hundreds of years. Today, El Morro National Monument protects over 2,000 inscriptions and petroglyphs, as well as Ancestral Puebloan ruins.
Explorers and travelers have known of the pool by the great rock for centuries. A valuable water source and resting place, many who passed by inscribed their names and messages in the rock next to petroglyphs left by ancient Puebloans. The ruins of a large pueblo located on top of El Morro were vacated by the time the Spaniards arrived in the late 1500s, and its inhabitants may have moved to the nearby pueblos in Zuni and Acoma. As the American West grew in population, El Morro became a break along the trail for those passing through and a destination for sightseers. As the popularity of the area increased, so did the tradition of carving inscriptions on the rock. To preserve the historical importance of the area and initiate preservation efforts on the old inscriptions, El Morro was established as a national monument by a presidential proclamation on December 8, 1906.
Henry McCarty was — possibly — born in New York City on November 23, 1859. With his mother and brother he moved west — Indiana, Kansas, New Mexico. Mrs. McCarty married a man named William Antrim in Santa Fe. After she died in Silver City in 1874, the boy got into minor trouble, escaped jail to Arizona Territory, and used the name William Antrim. His size and age led to “Kid” or “Kid” Antrim. Arrested for shooting and killing a blacksmith who was beating him in 1877, the Kid escaped back to New Mexico and assumed the name William H. Bonney.
Lincoln County contemporary Frank Coe wrote about Billy:
He was about seventeen, 5ft 8in, weight 138lbs and stood straight as an Indian, fine looking lad as ever I met. He was a lady’s man and the Mexican girls were all crazy about him. He spoke their language well. He was a fine dancer, could go all their gaits and was one of them. He was a wonder, you would have been proud to know him.
Bonney enlisted in the range war in Lincoln County on the side of John Tunstall against Lawrence Murphy. After Tunstall was killed, the Kid rode with a group called the Regulators, a quasi-legal vigilante gang. The Regulators captured two of Tunstall’s killers and someone, most likely the Kid, killed both before they reached Lincoln and the jail. Later the Kid was among the group that killed Sheriff William Brady. The Kid was wounded in the fight at Blazer’s Mill with “Buckshot” Roberts. There were other gunfights between the warring parties. In July, the Kid was in the “five-day battle” in Lincoln where the leader of his group, Tunstall’s lawyer Alexander McSween, was killed. After that the war was considered over and the Kid lost any legitimacy. In August 1878, he was present when the clerk at the Mescalero Indian agency was killed.
Incoming New Mexico Territorial Governor Lew Wallace (the author of Ben Hur) issued a general pardon for the Lincoln County war, but it did not apply to Billy Bonney because he had been involved in the killing of Sheriff Brady. After another outburst of violence led to the killing of a lawyer named Chapman, Governor Wallace offered the Kid a full pardon if he’d testify against Chapman’s killers. Bonney agreed and was arrested in early 1879. Meanwhile Chapman’s killers escaped.
After waiting several months for the pardon, the Kid, who had some liberties, walked away from his guards, mounted a horse and escaped. He became a cattle thief, claiming it was owed him for back wages. He killed a saloon braggart whose gun misfired. Another man was killed in an attempt to capture Bonney.
The new Lincoln County sheriff, Pat Garrett, finally caught the Kid at Stinking Springs, 25 miles from Fort Sumner. After a gunfight the Kid was arrested. He was first charged in the murder of “Buckshot” Roberts, but eventually brought to trial and convicted for the murder of Sheriff Brady. Before Bonney could be hanged, he killed two deputies and escaped. Garrett located the Kid at Pete Maxwell’s ranch, waited in the dark bedroom, and shot him twice when he saw him outlined in the opened bedroom doorway, July 10, 1881. The Kid died without knowing who had killed him. He was 21 years old.
Souvenir hunters have chipped away. NewMexiKen photo, 2006.
The National Museum of Nuclear Science & History, located 601 Eubank Blvd. SE in Albuquerque, New Mexico, is the nation’s only congressionally chartered museum in its field and an intriguing place to learn the story of the Atomic Age, from early research of nuclear development through today’s peaceful uses of nuclear technology. The Museum is a Smithsonian Affiliate member. Open daily 9 a.m. to 5 p.m.
Across Eubank from Costco one can see the missiles and aged aircraft and I often thought I should visit. Last evening, to hear author Eric Schlosser, we did — briefly. It’s good and we plan to tour the museum more thoroughly soon. And the gift shop was (inexplicably) not open during the special (well-attended) event. It’s not a real visit to a museum if it doesn’t include the gift shop.
A couple of iPhone photos.
This flag flew at Trinity Site on July 16, 1945, when the first nuclear device was tested.Mockups of Little Boy (Hiroshima) and Fat Man (Nagasaki).
Yesterday Donna and I took a little day road-trip (in the Z, of course). First stop was the Bradbury Science Museum in Los Alamos. This fine museum is a must for anyone with an interest in science or history. We stayed about an hour, but promised each other to return soon for a more in-depth look. If you’ve never been, go. It’s free. And watch the short film.
Next we went over the pass west of Los Alamos, shaking our head at the bald hills, forested before the 2000 Cerro Grande fire, and at the newly burned trees, dead and dying, from this summer’s Las Conchas fire. Destruction as far as the eye can see in some cases. (156,000 acres burned this summer.) We saw where the fire had crossed Highway 501 onto Los Alamos National Laboratory property. (Where they keep the plutonium!)
Though encircled on the east and south by burnt, brown trees, and not as green as usual due to the drought, the Valles Caldera is still one Earth’s sublime sights. And the National Preserve was open to visit. We drove down the 2-mile gravel road to the visitor center, expecting just to enjoy the view from inside the valley, rather than only along the ridge from Highway 4 as usual. To our delight, we were offered a shuttle ride back into the Preserve to pick up some hikers (for $8 apiece, senior rate). We let them twist our arms.
It was wonderful to see — mostly in isolation as personal vehicles are not allowed — some of the other valleys and ridges in the Preserve, the original ranch buildings and old movie sets. Most exciting was seeing scores of elk enjoying the single-bar action of their fall rut (and if you’ve never heard a bull elk bugling, it is one of the great natural sounds — here’s a short Elk Call video from Yellowstone, if you can get by the people talking and the camera sounds. Why must people always talk?).
Alas I had forgotten my Nikon at home, so was forced to rely on the iPhone. Click any image for a version twice as large.
Looking south across the Valle Grande. That's the visitor center that appears as a white speck in the center. Highway 4 is on the distant ridge. The hills in the distance were all burned.This bull had a large harem, apparently all to himself. One bull often controls a large number of females during the fall but exhausts himself in the process. It's not unusual for the dominant bull to die during the winter, so run-down he is from the effort.Elk, including several bulls, bugling and challenging each other and trying to assure immortality for their DNA.Looking east. A third of the Preserve's 89,000 acres was burned during this summer's Las Conchas Wildfire.
We ended the day at the Los Ojos Saloon in Jemez Springs in beautiful Jemez Canyon with green chile (fresh!) cheeseburgers, God’s personal gift to New Mexico.
This is a gif loop from 10 stills taken of the bear in my backyard June 27th.
I love watching the bear problem solve — how do I get over that wall? She eventually jumped onto the berm, a leap of about 5 vertical and 5 horizontal feet.
The Rio Grande Cottonwood, a welcome sight to pioneer desert caravans because it often signaled water, typically reaches 50 to 60 feet in height, with a trunk of three feet in diameter. Some of the grand old cottonwoods in the Rio Grande Valley have reached 90 feet in height, with trunks five feet across. In open areas, the tree may divide into branches near its base, producing a spreading crown. . . .
The Rio Grande Cottonwood reproduces by seeding, unlike many other flood-plain trees which regenerate by sprouting. It flowers in the spring, before it leafs out. It releases its seeds, each carried by downy white tuft, or “parachute,” in anticipation of traditional spring floods and winds, the principal mechanisms for dispersion. A mature Rio Grande Cottonwood can produce as many as 25 million seeds in a season, covering wide areas with a blanket of “cotton.”
Here’s a slideshow from Albuquerque’s “Snow-of-the-Century” — back before hoaxers started warming the planet — six years ago today (about 25-26 inches at Casa NewMexiKen). Click for larger versions and slideshow, or scroll over image for caption.
Backyard bench, Friday afternoon.
Backyard bench, early Saturday morning.
The view from my computer.
Not a good day for mimosas in the courtyard.
A view in Sandia Heights, the westernmost Sandia Mountains in the background.
Those bags with sand and candles that are a New Mexico Christmas Eve tradition; the correct name for them is farolitos.
Often farolitos are called luminarias. Lumanarias traditionally were actually small bonfires.
Farolitos (literally “little lanterns”) replaced lumanarias (“altar lamps”) as towns became more densely populated. The purpose of both was to light the path to midnight mass.
Farolitos are the coolest Christmas decoration ever, especially when whole neighborhoods line their sidewalks, driveways and even roof-lines with them. (Electric versions are common and can be found throughout the season. The real deal are candles and displayed only on Christmas Eve.)
Buy some sand (for ballast), some votive candles and some lunch bags and bring a beautiful New Mexico Christmas Eve tradition to your neighborhood this year. Get your neighbors to join you. You could become famous if it’s never been done in your area. And the kids love it.
These photos were taken on November 13th last year at Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge about 100 miles south of Albuquerque. Snow geese, some of the 30,000 there at the time.
Between 1821 and 1880, the Santa Fe Trail was primarily a commercial highway connecting Missouri and Santa Fe, New Mexico. From 1821 until 1846, it was an international commercial highway used by Mexican and American traders. In 1846, the Mexican-American War began. The Army of the West followed the Santa Fe Trail to invade New Mexico. When the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo ended the war in 1848, the Santa Fe Trail became a national road connecting the United States to the new southwest territories. Commercial freighting along the trail continued, including considerable military freight hauling to supply the southwestern forts. The trail was also used by stagecoach lines, thousands of gold seekers heading to the California and Colorado gold fields, adventurers, fur trappers, and emigrants. In 1880 the railroad reached Santa Fe and the trail faded into history.
The 1940 film Santa Fe Trail, with Ronald Reagan playing George Armstrong Custer — and starring Errol Flynn and Olivia de Havilland — has little basis in historical fact other than that there was a Santa Fe Trail.
“New Mexico’s historic bars reflect the lives and times of the common and not-so-common people who made our history. They include rough saloons that catered to miners, polished hotel bars for traveling merchants, and flashing-neon honky-tonks to attract Route 66 tourists.”
The Buckhorn Saloon & Opera House, Pinos Altos
No Scum Allowed Saloon, White Oak
Hotel Eklund, Clayton
Silva’s Saloon, Bernalillo
The 49er Lounge, Gallup
Once the largest army post in the southwest, Fort Union is now little more than a shadow of its former self set among beautiful grasslands north of Las Vegas, New Mexico. For 40 years in the second half of the 19th century, it was the Santa Fe Trail equivalent of an interstate truck stop and regional warehouse.
When New Mexico became United States territory after the U.S.- Mexican War, the army established garrisons in towns scattered along the Rio Grande to protect the area’s inhabitants and travel routes. This arrangement proved unsatisfactory for a number of reasons, and in April 1851, Lt. Col. Edwin V. Sumner, commanding Military Department No. 9 (which included New Mexico Territory), was ordered “to revise the whole system of defense” for the entire territory. Among his first acts was to break up the scattered garrisons and relocate them in posts closer to the Indians. He also moved his headquarters and supply depot from Santa Fe, “that sink of vice and extravagance,” to a site near the Mountain and Cimarron branches of the Santa Fe Trail, where he established Fort Union.
Five-years-ago, driving along Tramway across Sandia Pueblo, I was reminded of one of the best things about living in Albuquerque. I began to think, NewMexiKen you can live anywhere, why do you stay here?
There are a lot of ways to answer a question like that. One way is to make a list.
These aren’t the only reasons, and they aren’t in any particular order, but these are ten that came to mind.
The weather, except sometimes in March and April. Four seasons, all of them distinct, none of them oppressive, or too long. And September and October — amazing!
The food, red and green — and sopapillas with honey.
The Rio Grande, though we fail to do anything with it. A historic river — third longest in America — how about a river walk with cafes and shops (tastefully and environmentally correct, of course)?
The Plaza. Not as historic as Santa Fe’s, or even Taos’s. Still it’s always inviting and often filled with people celebrating a wedding at San Felipe de Neri. In other words, while a tourist attraction, it’s still “our” plaza.
Santa Fe, Taos, Chaco, Pecos, Valles Caldera and more, world-class tourist venues that are day trips for us.
The sky, whether bluer than blue, or lit dramatically by sun or twilight, or with clouds, white or dark. Our sky is always something to behold, most gloriously at sunrise over the mountains and sunset over the volcanoes.
The pueblos nearby with their cultures, feasts and dances.
The Sandia mountains right here, rising a mile right above us.
The diversity of people. It’s a community without a majority population.
The Indian land north and south of the city, the national forest land (and wilderness) east of it. If it weren’t for the permanently undeveloped land that surrounds so much of Albuquerque, I fear it all would look like Rio Rancho.
And a few more.
The Buckhorn, The Owl and Los Ojos, the funkiest saloons anywhere.
The Bosque del Apache Wildlife Refuge and the Festival of the Cranes.
The battle of Glorieta Pass concluded 150 years ago today (1862). Union troops from Fort Union, New Mexico, joined by volunteers from Colorado, effectively ended Confederate attempts to march north up the Rio Grande and on to the gold fields in Colorado.
Estimated casualties: Union 142, Confederate 189.
The Civil War Sites Advisory Commission Battle Summary: Glorieta Pass provides somewhat more detail on the three days, including this:
Glorieta Pass was a strategic location, situated at the southern tip of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, southeast of Santa Fe, and on the Santa Fe Trail. . . . Both Slough [Union] and Scurry [Confederate] decided to attack and set out early on the 28th to do so. As Scurry advanced down the canyon, he saw the Union forces approaching, so he established a battle line, including his dismounted cavalry. Slough hit them before 11:00 am. The Confederates held their ground and then attacked and counterattacked throughout the afternoon. The fighting then ended as Slough retired first to Pigeon’s Ranch and then to Kozlowski’s Ranch. Scurry soon left the field also, thinking he had won the battle. Chivington’s men, however, had destroyed all Scurry’s supplies and animals at Johnson’s Ranch, forcing him to retreat to Santa Fe, the first step on the long road back to San Antonio, Texas. The Federals had won and, thereby, stopped Confederate incursions into the Southwest. Glorieta Pass was the turning point of the war in the New Mexico Territory.
