Love, Taos

I’m sitting in a coffee shop in Taos, NM; an empty London fog next to my computer as I type with the sun on my face. I’m facing a bar in the main window with two open seats to my right. The pine wood bar separates me from the lime green window seat that is home to three giant, thriving plants. Outside the wind is blistering cold and piles of dirty snow gather in the shadows. In this seat, I forget that for a bit and let the sunshine warm my skin. Locals meet around me, calling each other by name as they pass through. I look at apartments in Taos and wonder what life would be like here. I bought a book from the barista titled Darling, I Love You: Poems from the Hearts of Our Glorious Mutts and All Our Animal Friends. I think of my cats and all of the animals I’ve loved. I smile and flip through the pages.

I pulled into Taos around lunch on Tuesday, found free parking, and ate some lunch in the van before heading out into the cold. I spent the previous evening at a campground near a river in Colorado. It was free and not far from my route. I pulled into the small dirt lot as the sun began to set, not a person or vehicle in sight. The golden field around me glowed, the ripples of the river gleamed in the sun. I hopped out of the van, under dressed for the temperatures at my destination, and wandered the area picking up shot gun shells and litter. I stayed outside until the gold faded and the wind slapped my cheeks. Kicking on the heat, I climbed in the van and nestled in.

I don’t think I really got the hang of living in the van on the last journey out. I spent a lot of time on the move. When I would arrive at a campsite in the evening, I felt lost and unsure what I was supposed to be doing. I had not figured out how to live in a van. How to enjoy. So when I climbed in the van on the first evening, I tried something different. I spread my yoga mat on the floor— taking up the entire square footage I had to work with. I did my best vinyasa in a small space, gently tapping my hands on the edges of the cabinets as I rose into the sky, which was better than I had expected. After I had finished I caught up on a couple of episodes of my current Netflix obsession, BoJack Horseman, while I put on a face mask and worked on my to do list. I boiled eggs for breakfast, I made dinner, and I slipped into bed with a book. This, I thought, is what I imagined it would be like. Now that electricity is not longer a scarce resource (Thanks Seth!), I can spend that extra time doing things I know will enrich my day. Slowing down.

After sitting at the coffee shop for a few hours, I packed my things and wandered around the Taos plaza. It is a sleepy Tuesday afternoon, with temperatures dipping into the teens in the sun at best. So far I had managed a budget of fuel/water only, so I decided to treat myself to dinner. The waitress at El Gamal recommended a dish that reminded me of Ethiopian food- which I love. Lentil dahl sat in the center of a crispy pancake, surrounded by various chutneys and sauces. Cabbages, coconut tzatziki, sweet and spicy piles of food; each colorful and almost too beautiful to eat. I ripped pieces of the crispy pancake and started scooping different flavors together. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was eating, but I knew it was vegetarian and there were no visible giant mushrooms, so I pushed on unafraid. It was delicious.

The fences that line the yards of the locals are made from bunches of sticks or limbs. The streets are narrow, winding every which way. Shop signs advertise ‘custom hats’ and ‘custom spanish style doors’, Christmas decoration still hugging the exteriors. I notice the smell of burning wood nearly everywhere I go, and peer into homes with flowers lining the windows. In Taos, every window hosts a plant or two. Most people that I pass are over the age of fifty, usually coupled and holding hands. Retiring in a quiet town with their lover, making custom doors by day and sitting by the fire at night. Cars never fail to slow at crosswalks as I step across. Some even held up traffic just to let me by. I think I love Taos.

I made my way back to the van to find Luna peering from under the blankets on the bed. She is truly an adventure cat. She rides in my lap unbothered by the bumps and the loud roar of the engine for hundreds of miles. From time to time she wakes up and climbs onto my chest to get my attention, asking for pets and saying hello. And though she has a winter coat on and the van stays a comfortable 65F, she is over Taos and mountain air. She will be happy to lay in the 80F weather in Phoenix this weekend. Until then, she follows the sun spots around the van.

I settled in at the Taos Casino parking lot last night around 6:30pm, giving all of my information to the casino security... in case I run off with their fortune. I went through my routine again last night: move my body, self care, mark off to do list items. I settled in bed reading about wild horses and feeling content. Luna warm beside me, glad to share the warmth as the temperatures dropped into single digits. The heater kept us comfortable through the night— even hot at one point— as I woke up stripping off socks and extra layers.

Today I rise around eight, I move around slowly. Drinking tea, eating breakfast, climbing to get my clothes out for the day. Lucy does not like cold weather, and reminds me again as I try over and over to turn her over, listening to the battery fade with each try. I pulled out my jumper/compressor duo without any luck. (Rubbish. Stanley Jumpit Peak 1000 is rubbish) I climbed in the van and surrendered to working in the parking lot to waste no further time. Good thing I have AAA.

Today is suppose to warm up to 45F in Taos. Comparably very nice to the previous day. I thought I would be sitting in a local coffee shop, but I am happy to save the $5 and sit with an unobstructed view of the mountains. I think I will visit a few shops downtown before heading to local hot springs that sit at the end of a short hike near town. I might go crazy and travel down to Santa Fe, hitting up the Planet Fitness to shower and— if I am lucky— spend thirty minutes on an elliptical. Okay, at least twenty. The exercise is a bonus.