The Quarai Ruins

The sky was corn blue, and fluffy white clouds dotted the pretty sky and horizon. An occasional breeze swept past, cooling the back of my neck where sweat was beginning to run down in rivulets because of the heat. Yet it was cooler here, in this part of New Mexico, where my mother and I had decided to visit this hot June day.

We stepped from the car, walking the dirt and stone trail that led to the ruins, which we could see over the surprisingly green vegetation. The red adobe brick stood out brightly, and drew us
in, I could feel myself brimming with excitement. After all, this is part of why I am so proud to be a New Mexican, this wonderful history which surrounds me at every turn.



We had decided to come here to the Quarai Ruins (pronounced Kwai- Rye) partially because is was an easy drive from Albuquerque, and partly because the road home would lead us through the Manzano Mountains, which we wanted to photograph. Located in Punta del Agua, Quarai is part of the Salinas Pueblo Missions National Monument.

In 1628 Quarai was a thriving community of American Indian trade when the Spaniard Franciscans arrived in an effort to convert the natives and establish a self-sufficient community. Artifacts from todays ruins suggest the original inhabitants had been living there almost 400 years before the arrival of the Spanish. A large stone Mission, or church, was built and much of it still remains today to be viewed by lucky tourists like myself.



There were few people visiting the ruins when we came by. It was peaceful and lovely, bringing images to mind of what it must have been like as a bustling community so many years ago.




What remains of the ruins are low walls (high enough to stand over your head, but no longer with roofs on them as they once may have had) and trails, an occasional window and the high walls of the mission.



This made me want to go home and do something like this in my garden, bustling with wildflowers and sage it would be lovely.


Natural vegetation creates a feeling of paradise at Quarai.





Can't you image what this place once looked like with the locals living here hundreds of years ago?





If I were to to this again, I would bring a sack or picnic lunch, and more cool drinks, as there were no cafes or snack stands. We became rather hungry all of the sudden and had to leave to find refreshments, though we would have enjoyed a longer stay. However, it was a wonderful afternoon, full of sights and history, good memories and more. Well worth repeating.

Camel Rock Trading Post

When I was a kid growing up in the Land of Enchantment, I didn't know how lucky I was.

I watched the old westerns and played afterward in the desert surrounding my house or near my grandmothers house pretending to be the characters in Gunsmoke or Big Valley with no idea other kids in other parts of the U.S. might not have some of the same experiences. I had the double fortune of my father usually living in Texas or Mississippi or somewhere like that, so I spent many a summer playing in the deep green woods, so I had the best of both worlds.

Where my Grandmother and Grandfather, James and Rainey Snyder, lived at the time was a particular treat. (This was probably around 1973) Just north of Santa Fe and South of Pojoaque Pueblo there is a camel shaped rock formation just off to the side of the road. For many years my grandparents lived across the highway where they owned and operated both a mobile home sales and a trading post. As kids we sometimes walked across the road to climb on the camel rock, (this was before they built the low adobe wall surrounding it and a fence to protect it from erosion, something no one considered back then,) and scout the surrounding areas. Rattlesnakes and other dangers abounded so we were always old to be careful. Though at that age I was still invincible in my own mind, so I am amazed I am alive after some of the stupid stuff we did.

My twin uncles had dirt bikes and would fly all over the place with their BB guns and I was so envious I could have made myself sick from it. Surprisingly, my favorite memory was be able to get a cold rootbeer from the refrigerator my grandmother kept in the trading post and sip the suds from the top of the can. Often by watching this bobbing roadrunner toy thing she had, which bobbed because it had mercury it is body and it's beak dipped in cool water. long story, believe me when I say to a kid it was as cool as hell.

The Pojoaque Pueblo down the road both fascinated and scared me at the time, I had not seen many Navajos much back then, or recognized them for being Native American. My one memory was when a group of children from the reservation came to visit our school in their traditional clothes made of colorful velvet that I instantly fell in love with. I was so proud to be from a state that had such an interesting culture in it. I knew even then that not every place had such wonderful things in it.

The trading post itself was magical to me, with glass cases full of handmade jewelry made from silver, coral, turquoise and so much more. I will try and find more photos down the road of this great time of my life, I have Googled everywhere and there is no record of the trading post anywhere. It's kinda sad. But it's all still here - in my head- and I'd like to share it with all of you :)