Michael Grant is a creative director in San Francisco. He previously wrote about the Tanforan Shell Station, Poptimism, and iPod Rock.
Ross Cavin is a creative director (aren’t we all) born and raised in Albuquerque who was kind enough to fact-check Michael. He currently lives in Santa Fe, NM.
Michael here. For nine days every October, hundreds of thousands of people descend on Albuquerque for the International Balloon Fiesta, the largest hot air balloon festival in the world. You’ve seen the postcards.
For the remaining 356 days of the year, though, tourists land in Albuquerque in order to leave it in the dust.
Albuquerque is a portal disguised as a hub, a big city overshadowed by basically every other tourist destination in the state of New Mexico.
Santa Fe has its art and architecture. Bandelier National Monument and the Gila Cliff Dwellings feature rich history and dramatic visuals. White Sands is endless dunes of blinding basalt, cool to the touch and hot in your Instagram stories, the only place where you can glom onto some atomic history while reenacting the best Boyz II Men video. Carlsbad Caverns is like “what if Yosemite but underground?” and at sunset millions of bats flock to the horizon, the effect something like a miles-long curlicue of squeaky mammalian smoke. Of course if that’s all too mainstream for you, there are plenty more niche points of interest. Get geeky at the Very Large Array, do pilgrimage art at the Lightning Field, genuflect to the WPA at the Catwalk Trail, feel unusual feelings at literally Los Alamos, and check off all kinds of storied UFO sites along the way.
On the other hand, Albuquerque is well known for a popular tv show about meth, a song about driving through it, another song about driving through it…and yet another song where a very stoned person thinks about driving away from it.
But…don’t leave so soon. It’s all right here, is the thing. Well not the caves, but everything else that makes New Mexico such a singular intersection of various strands of the American mythos. Native American history (and present), the Bomb, Aliens and government conspiracies, the Wild West, Colonial History, and Route 66 retro kitsch. Plus the harsh beauty. The promise of solitude and escape in the desert. The indelible marks left by a history of lawlessness. Big skies that swallow up everything below. And warm plates of chiles, adovada, and sopaipillas.
[Ross here: As a born and raised Burqueño, this is the rarest of takes from someone visiting my hometown. The common response is that a trip to Albuquerque is something to be endured, not enjoyed. So I’d say we’re off to a good start here. Carry on.]
I know all this because I’m an extremely enlightened traveler.
Jk! It's because the first time I landed at ABQ there was a rental car snafu that led to an interminable 36 hour stretch of anxious exploration. We hit the American International Rattlesnake Museum, which gives you a certificate of bravery as your entry pass. We took in the nighttime neon of Nob Hill. And dropped into a diner on Route 66 for milkshakes, watching the Southwestern sunset splash across the Sandia Mountains.
Now a decade later, I’m writing a book set in Albuquerque, so I’ve been back and poked around some more.
[Ross again: OK points deducted for being forced to explore the city but then points added back for being able to enjoy it, and coming back. Also, side note, I grew up maybe five minutes from the rattlesnake museum and still haven’t been. Adding it to my list!]
Let’s start with a simplified version of the layout, to get our bearings. Central Avenue (aka Route 66!) crosses the city running East-West.
Above Central Ave is the North Valley. It’s nice and green. The further up you go, things get even prettier and more ranch-y.
[Ross: Love the North Valley. Grew up there. Still my favorite part of town. Should you find yourself there on Christmas Eve, take the drive down Rio Grande Boulevard to Alameda to look at the luminarias (little brown bags with sand and a lit candle in them). There’s a quiet beauty to it that is hard to describe. Also, explore Corrales, a village at the northernmost part of the North Valley, even if technically it’s beyond the Burque border.]
Below Central Ave is the South Valley. It’s wilder and industrial. The further down you go, things get more unpredictable.
[Ross: We like to say that Breaking Bad is a documentary, and the South Valley is a big part of the reason why. It has its charms, but if you don’t know where you’re going, maybe don’t go at all.]
Along the corridor of Central Ave itself, you’ve got Downtown, Old Town, and Nob Hill. All of them bustling commercial areas catering to different crowds.
Running straight down the middle North-South is the Rio Grande, a verdant stripe.
To the East, mountains.
[Ross: Most people think the Sandias are so-named for their resemblance to a big pink watermelon slice at sunset, but in fact they’re named for some watermelon looking gourds found on the east side of the mountains by Spaniards some 300+ years ago. Now you know.]
To the West, the expanse.
[Ross: To go back to your point about Albuquerque being a portal disguised as a hub, it’s hard for me to delineate where the city begins and ends. I know city limits are a thing, but they mean less here than in most places I’ve lived. The spirit of the city extends well beyond its physical borders. All of New Mexico is contained in Albuquerque, but not all of Albuquerque can be found throughout New Mexico. Or something like that.]
One way to get out of the “locked groove” of travel is to Be Traveling in a place that isn’t a tourist hotspot.
Aside from one expensive and esteemed locus of beautiful hospitality, there really is no Google Doc version of Albuquerque. It’s unclear what you are “supposed” to do.
[Ross: Fun fact: I grew up not far from that esteemed locus. In high school we partied at the ditch just behind it. It was decidedly not esteemed at the time. Now, though, it is well worth the visit and has one of the best views of the Sandias in town. Also there are peacocks and the restaurant is awards-worthy.]
As a result, your time here will be yours. People keep saying, people smarter than me, that time is the most valuable thing. Others might say memories, and you can get those here too.
So please consider this a guide to things that can be done. Or as one version of how your days spent here might go.
NEW MEXICAN FOOD
Eating in Burque is the absolute truth. I’d heard about the green chile stew, but adovada was new to me. Chunks of pork slow-cooked in red chile sauce. This is what you want. Your existence up to this point has been merely a prelude to an adovada quest, culminating in a stop at the Duran Pharmacy near Old Town, or Mary & Tito’s, where the jukebox sometimes works and the food always does. Once you are able to walk again, drive downtown and get dessert at Golden Crown Panaderia. And if it’s real early, or real late, or really just time to disappear a sweet roll in front of a gigantic oil painting of John Wayne under a canopy of Navajo blankets, Frontier is there for you.
[Ross: Cannot emphasize how good the carne adovada stuffed sopapilla at Mary & Tito’s is. Get it smothered with red with some green chile and sour cream on the side. Also worth mentioning: Barelas Coffee House and the to-go breakfast burritos from Casa de Benavidez. There’s great non-New Mexican food too, but that’s not what you’re here for.]
SANDIA PEAK TRAMWAY
No big deal, just the longest aerial tram in the Americas, constructed by Bell Engineering out of Lucerne, Switzerland. The guides have their banter down (“and as we approach the second tower, you’ll find out whether you’re afraid of heights”), the ride is smooth but for some gusts of wind, and after 15 minutes you emerge at the crest of the Sandia Mountains, elevation 10,378 ft. On a clear day, you can see 70% of New Mexico from up there. A short hike takes you to the Kiwanis Cabin, built by the CCC in the 1930s.
[Ross: Two fun facts about the tram: you can see the wreckage from an old plane crash on the mountain and my little sister threw up on a crowded car when we were going snowboarding years ago. I pretended not to know her.]
ALBUQUERQUE ISOTOPES
The Isotopes are the Colorado Rockies’ AAA team and, yes, the name is an old Simpsons reference. Which no doubt felt like a good idea at the time…but time passes. Look around the crowd today and half the people are wearing gear for the team’s much cooler alter-ego, the Mariachis de Nuevo Mexico, created to better embrace and reflect the Hispanic and Latino communities who make up so much of the fanbase.
[Ross: Absolutely hate the name and logo and the fact that it was ripped from a Simpsons episode. Love the Mariachis and also love the OG team, the Albuquerque Dukes. I remember seeing Pedro Martinez and Darryl Strawberry play for the Dukes back in the day. Good times.]
NOB HILL
Rad neon signs, big murals, strong coffee, and eclectic independent shops. Guild Cinema is the kind of throwback arthouse situation that is an increasingly rare public service, and at the Empire Board Game Library you can play any game in their extensive collection for an hourly rate.
#NMGOTH
There will always be teens who feel different and want to make sure everyone can see how they feel. Hot Topic has provided this service (plus an underrated selection of notebooks) since the 90s, and has earned its place in the pantheon of mall greatness.
In Albuquerque’s Coronado Mall, though, the goth spot is not a Hot Topic. It’s a one-of-one locally owned shop called Ori Allan, and their selection of alt/goth lifestyle fashion is both more severe and impressive than the chain store version could ever be. Some real-deal subcultural things happening here, for all ages, a stone’s throw from JC Penney.
[Ross: Another one I did not know about! I remember Coronado Mall as a place where teenagers could not gather in groups larger than three. Now I have a reason to return.]
KIRTLAND AFB
A funny thing about doing residential location scouting/research is that to anyone else around, you are just a random stranger taking prolonged interest in other people’s houses. This can lead to sudden conversations about what you are doing there, and a subset of those sudden conversations can be tagged as lovely after the fact.
That’s how I met a man named Roland. He lives at the end of a cul-de-sac in the Vista Del Mundo neighborhood and proudly showed me his cars, including a mint 1937 Plymouth and a nassau blue Chevrolet Bel Air he bought new in 1956. When I asked him what brought him to this area originally, he told me he’d been an engineer on the base, and eventually was promoted to head of security.
I took the voice recorder out of my pocket and asked his permission, he nodded, said sure, and off we went. Just me and a retiree talking about how, hypothetically, maybe a bunch of UFO sightings in the area could possibly have something to do with the tests that happen at Kirtland AFB at night.
Then either to throw me off, or because he’s just a real honest guy, Roland semi-confessed to suppressing evidence of a landing site on the base. He said, “It’s not all a misunderstanding. There’s a reason just about everyone here has seen one. I saw one…We got the call. Four o'clock in the morning. And the security police chief went with me. He was like a neighbor. We went together and the security police were just petrified. You know, they wanted to tell us. And then Sandia Labs people came right away and they would've put a different taste on it. So both the Colonel and I went…well…ok, so what did I see though? Well, we saw evidence that something did land. Okay. And it was circular. You know, I'm a safety director. I'm not a lawyer. I'm not a cop. My whole thing is how do we make things better? You see?”
Pretty sure I do, Roland.
[Ross: Non-Albuquerque story but still related: my grandad was in the Air Force in Roswell, NM when the “crash” happened. He would never say what, but he definitely said “something” happened. In any event, don’t go to Roswell unless you love Cattle Baron salad bars.]
COMBINATION PC REPAIR SMOKESHOP
I live in a city where scam masters make grotesque amounts of scratch inventing solutions to problems that don’t exist, and meanwhile in Albuquerque some altruistic enterprising souls have created this peerless stop dedicated to fixing two real ass everyday problems under a single roof.
[Ross: This is quintessential ‘Burque. In Santa Fe, where I live now, there’s a sign for a “Donut/Coin shop.” No idea what it means.]
TINGLEY BEACH
I’m pretty sure I’d already be into fishing if I hadn’t stopped drinking nine years ago. Bait hook cast reel nothing bait hook cast real something. Sign me up, someday.
[Ross: For those of us who do still drink, forget fishing and hit up some breweries. I’m partial to the Boxing Bear on Central or La Cumbre on Girard, but they all have their charms and great beers.]
Tingley Beach is a public recreation area smack in the middle of Albuquerque. There are multiple stocked ponds, a bait shop, shaded benches and gazebos, sculptures that beg questions, and some trails that, I must admit, start feeling rather murdery rather quickly.
[Ross: For all Albuquerque has to offer, I don’t know that I’d put Tingley on the list. On a blazing hot dust-filled day, why seek out water you can’t jump in? Explore the Rio Grande instead, on a rented bike or your feet. Go north of Alameda and take a dip. In the fall when the cottonwood leaves are turning, this is even more true. Do watch out for stray pitbulls.]
AND IF YOU STILL HAVEN’T FOUND THE PARTY YOU’RE LOOKING FOR…
There is a room in a downtown convention center, full of promise.
[Ross: Only locals allowed, but rest assured, it’s a fucking fiesta in there.]
That was amazing!
If this is what the Albuquerque Kool-Aid tastes like… give me a few ice cubes and hit me with the vibes.