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 :)
