The New York Times gave us 36 hours in Santa Fe which we compressed into 18, but their suggestions for lodging were incompatible. Finding tent camping close to a major metropolitan area is tough once you rule out the overpasses and highway medians already in use by the less fortunate. In the past we have had luck with individuals just outside of town that allow camping on their property. Sort of, the AirBnb of camping.
Sure enough, Kim S. popped up with a tent site on her 20 acre plot of unimproved land outside of the town of Madrid, a bit south of Santa Fe. 96% positive reviews touted amazing views. She was the Hipcamp finalist for Best in New Mexico 2023. What could go wrong?
Madrid (pronounced MAD-rid, we found out) is a “hidden gem on the Turquiose Trail.” What is it with this journey and hidden gems? MAD-rid is described as an artist enclave of unique galleries, eclectic shops and cozy cafes housed in colorful bungalows.
Madrid is also one of four New Mexico towns Sheri routinely surfs on Redfin, dreaming of life in an arts town, living in an adobe house with vigas, saltillo tile floors, and kiva fireplaces with an off grid studio on a plot of land brimming with cholla and prickly pear, juniper and sage. It’s so important to keep an active imagination especially as we age.
A truism in the modern age of the internet is that life on-line and life IRL are wildly different. The Turquoise Trail Gem of MAD-rid is, in reality, nothing like its virtual self. The unique galleries are packed with kitschy trinkets mass produced in Asia. The cozy cafes are one coffee shop with very expensive average coffee. And, those are the highlights of the town. Outside of the overtly touristy shops, the houses and stores remaining are in disrepair. Hopefully, the tourist trap model pays off because the starving artist alternative looks bleak.
Of course we knew none of this when we booked. MAD-rids’ life online looked amazing. Arriving late afternoon, we decided to set up camp first and check out the town later. The rock and dirt road climb to Mesa Top is steep, rutted, and long and we had trouble imagining a normal SUV making it.
Kim S. was out of town so when we arrived we were on our own. One or two small details about the hipcamp may have been inadvertently left out of the description. For instance, it is adjacent to a cemetery. The old cemetery for the miners of last century’s Madrid has been expanded to surround the camping site. Kim S.’s directions were to turn at the fence with the ribbon. It would have been a bit more obvious to simply say, camp anywhere behind the large wrought iron arched entrance that reads “The Land of the Dead”. Yea, that was a little more obvious than a small weathered and faded ribbon.
Some of the grave sites were traditional and quite old. Some were more recent and an exercise in dark humor and artistry. A twenty year old, the apparent victim of a drunk driving accident, had sin trinkets adorning his grave. We walked among the markers until three growling dogs barrelled in, forcing us back into the truck. After a while they left, perhaps convinced that we had no intention of disturbing the dead.
We had intended to drive into town and enjoy a dinner date but the ride up had been so uncomfortable that we went with Plan B, find something in the truck-fridge. Munching on leftover cold pizza and sipping from a one gallon jug of water, we contemplated a life in MAD-rid. The cute art studio with kiva fireplace did not come to mind.
A makeshift stage faced a Furniture-for-Less showroom of sofas and chairs left to rot in the elements. We decided to save the time erecting the tent and set up camp under the roof of the stage. A full Flower Moon rose at sunset and illuminated the theater of abandoned living room furniture and creepy graves in front of us. The hounds that had tormented us earlier howled at the moon in the distance as we pulled the sleeping bags over our heads. We were either going to sleep like the dead, or join them we supposed.
We made it through the night but with little sleep due to the 1000W Flower Moon shining from above. Fortunately, the fact that all we had to do to break camp was roll up our Hests made an early departure easy. With the time shaved not having coffee, breakfast, brushing our teeth, or changing our clothes we had plenty of time to go a bit out of our way and stop in our favorite chili town of Hatch, NM.
In Hatch, we loaded up on our favorite New Mexico chilies and spices and ordered an extra homemade tamale at lunch to make up for our lack of a breakfast. The town of Hatch isn’t cute but it had an authentic heart. It is simply the town closest to the fields where the eponymous chilies are grown and serves a clientle of blue collar workers and the occasional passing tourist.
Hatch has almost no internet presence. In fact, you cannot even go online and order from Three Brothers where we bought our tex-mex supplies. Señora M. at the B&E diner makes her tamales from scratch. We would describe her red sauce with slow cooked spicy pork as “to die for” but that phrase feels a little too close to the bone after MAD-rid. Hatch is all reality and no virtual and we are very OK with that.
