For the last few months, New Mexico has become my surrogate home. I still miss the ebb and flow of the open road, and my curiosity remains unsatiated for Latin America. But I’m enjoying my time here in Santa Fe, coupled with my investigations into the dirt roads that abound. With spring easing itself in to my riding life, I look forward to unearthing many more.
As a state, New Mexico feels overlooked… in comparison at least to its more worldly neighbours, Colorado and Arizona, with their jagged mountain peaks and fathomless canyons. Yet while New Mexico’s terrain is undoubtedly more subtle, the high desert landscapes here are nothing short of breathtaking.
And, like home, over a series of repeated visits the fabric of New Mexico has transformed from the unexplored and unfamiliar, to the well travelled and reassuring. The sense of space. The old frontier influence. The indigenous history. The wizened junipers. The tufts of sagebrush. That sky.
And, importantly, New Mexico is the birthplace of the boy Sage; perhaps because of this I sense a need to catalogue my travels here, to understand that which he will call his home.