Santa Fe #2

Southwest kitsch at its finest.

I have never felt so deliciously unmotivated as I feel right now lying on my queen bed here in the Guadalupe Inn in Santa Fe, Mexico. The fireplace is going. The internet is working again. There are a plethora of wonderful cafes just a javelin-throw from the inn, but I don’t want to walk to any of them. I did just walk to one of them, Iconik Coffee Roasters, where with tip I paid $8.00 for a matcha latte. This is now the most I have ever paid for a matcha latte. Which I guess makes it unique in that regard. And it was a good matcha latte, but no matcha latte is worth eight dollars, save maybe the one I got in Monterrey, Mexico a few days ago that was sold by a girl in the running for friendliest girl on the planet and made with fresh peanut milk. And that matcha latte cost $2.50.

Ahhhhhh, the fireplace. With the blue angel wings hanging above it. The clear, blue sky outside. The crisp air. The REI that’s just a five-minute walk away. How can a capital city be so sleepy? Should I move to Santa Fe? What are the drawbacks? The generally arid climate? Does the adobe get old after awhile?

The plan right now is to drive to Moab tomorrow, stay there for a night or two, then drive somewhere north of SLC, then somewhere in the middle of nowhere in Oregon, and then back home. I’m not in a HUGE hurry to get home, because I see that a big cold front is coming. I hope the boat is ok. I hope things aren’t freezing on it right now. I’d say I hope my succulent is OK, but our souls are joined now, so that succulent isn’t going anywhere. My soul is also a bit joined with the boat’s, definitely joined with the Subi’s, and inextricably joined with anything involving bouldering. I can’t wait to boulder. I want to boulder so bad. I have a virtual physical therapy appointment on Monday, and then hopefully in-person the following week. The physical therapist I talked to today who will be seeing me is, wait for it….a climber. What luck. He knows what a heel hook is. He knows why I want to heal. He knows that I need to be projecting primo granite blocs and that I need to be doing it as soon as possible. He knows that if you’re sending, you’re not wallowing. And by sending I just mean touching holds. And by touching holds I mean dreaming about the movement.

Getting ready for some life coaching with my friend Jen. Forty five minutes till that, though, so I should probably go for a walk first. Get some mate. I didn’t want mate five minutes ago and now it sounds like a great idea. The sun is shining and two of the Subi tires got fixed today. Both had screws completely puncturing them. One of them has a gash in it. The one with the gash in it has become the spare. The whole escapade cost 45 bucks, and I also decided to tip the mechanic. Now I feel a lot better about the drive home with the Subi. The last 80 miles were pretty disconcerting yesterday.

Ahhhhhh, the sweetness of this bed and this room and this fireplace. The wanton sloth. Sometimes I feel bad about being lazy, but for some reason today I feel great about it. Maybe it’s because sometimes it’s not being lazy. Sometimes it’s just resting, letting your mind rest, letting your mud settle until the water becomes clear.

And then boiling that water and making mate with it.

High Times in Santa Fe

The Four Seasons? No: The Guadalupe Inn off Agua Fria Street.

Dear sweet mother of Jesus father in heaven I need to learn how to manage my money better. How much money did I spend today? There was gas, meals, spending way too much on dinner, buying a bunch of shit at Whole Foods, my hotel/inn for the night. It all adds up. It adds up real damn quick. And some might even consider me frugal. My hotel room cost $66 before tax. Lunch was basically a Whataburger with a large water. But it still adds up. It still adds up….

I am in Santa Fe.

New Mexico.

Not to be confused with “Old Mexico,” aka where I was a few days ago. When I was in Old Mexico I noticed a clacking that sounded like something was stuck in my tire. A rock, perhaps. I ignored it. I figured if it was a rock, it would eventually come out, probably when I was doing speeds near 80mph on the highway. And I remember thinking, after a couple days of driving, “Hmmm, that’s a stubborn rock.” But I still didn’t look at it.

Lo and behold, when I come out of a gas station in Vaughn, New Mexico, I see that it’s not a rock at all, but a nail. It’s currently lodged in the front left tire of my car, and it’s been there for about 1,000 miles. And the tire hasn’t lost any air. The tire also has about an inch long gash in it that looks like it should’ve caused a flat about 600 miles ago.

When I discovered both these things I thought, “Fuck, what do I do now. Do I keep driving it? Can I make it the 80-something miles to Santa Fe? What if it blows out when I’m doing 70mp?”

Then I thought: “Bro, it’s made it this far, it’s probably not gonna blow out. What are you gonna do, change the tire right here, take it to a mechanic? Get a new tire?”

Then I thought: “Who are these motherfuckers who wear their masks below their nose? Like, if you’re gonna do that, just don’t wear a mask at all. I honestly don’t really care whether your wear a mask. But don’t wear one below your nose.”

And then I got in my car and drove the rest of the way to Santa Fe and the Subi was fine.

And my shoulders were very tense from gripping the shit out of the steering wheel every time a semi passed me.

And I saw boulders on the way to Santa Fe.

And I wanted to climb them.

By the way, the Subi is apparently named Bella name. Barry and I named her that. She doesn’t like it. She cringes when I call her it. So mostly I still just call her The Subi. She is the love of my life. But I’m also thinking of donating her to King FM for a tax write-off when I get back. If we get back. I gotta get this tire thing figured out. Right now, the plan is to take the nail tire off and put what I think is a full-size spare on. And keep nail tire as the new spare. Terribly plan, right? Wrong. Wonderful plan. And that’s what I’m going to do tomorrow. I’m going to change the tire, because that’s the kind of stuff men do, and I am a (sort of) a man.

I might stay another night in Santa Fe. I like this place. The adobe has floored me. It’s so damn cute. It reminds me of a southwest Chefchouen, Morocco. The adobe makes everything feel cozy, everything feel like it’s from several centuries ago. Add that to the fact that when you go outside the cold makes the stars crisper and you can literally smell sage in the air. I’m convinced 94% of the households in Santa Fe are burning sage. This entire town smells like a sweat lodge. And it’s wonderful. And there are angel wings hanging above the fireplace in the room of my inn. And there’s a fireplace. And I’m staying in an inn….

So yes, I might have to stay tomorrow. And do a bunch of walking to rehab my knee. And change Bella’s tire. And maybe do some fasting. And enjoy all that beautiful Santa Fe, New Mexico has to offer.