Silver City

Gab:

If you ask my dad, he will tell you New Mexico is his least favorite place on earth. His memories are of playing minor league baseball here, of games being called because of dust storms and thunderstorms, sometimes on the same day; of unbearable heat and of long, long drives back east. He is especially unkind to Artesia. So I was unsure what to expect from the 47th state.

Lucky for us, the land of enchantment is unaware of my father’s strong feelings. Everywhere we go we are greeted with smiles and conversation of the sincere kind. New Mexico might be the friendliest state yet.

And at the end of the day we keep ending up in these funky, artsy, who-knew-this-was-here? kind of towns. Like Silver City.

Silver City got its start in the 1860s as a mining town. Its commodity? You guessed it. Silver. The mines dried out towards the turn of the century but by then Silver City had shipping, cattle ranching, Western New Mexico University and had birthed its most famous son, Billy the Kid.

We were there because we needed a place to stay on the way to the Gila Cliff Dwellings National Monument which lies 44 miles north of the city.

As we entered the city limits, we liked what we saw. Several car washes, a handful of budget motels and more than one coffee shop with high speed internet access – all of the ingredients for an efficient pit stop. Downtown consisted of one street, but that street was lined with small art galleries, a few cafes and Mexican restaurants and the historic Palace Hotel.

The historic Palace Hotel just happened to have a small room available for the very right price of $40, breakfast included. Oh yes. So glad we asked.

- “So what brings you to Silver City?” The receptionist asked as I filled out the registration card.

- “The Cliff Dwellings. How are the roads?” We knew that part of the route was unpaved.

- “Oh honey,” her smile faded and she looked like she was the one who had to tell a little kid that the Easter Bunny really doesn’t exist. “The roads are not there. There’s been so much rain the river is completely over its banks. I don’t know when you’ll be able to get there. You might want to talk to the Forest Service’s office down the road. They usually know about those things.”

Sheesh. So glad she asked.

And she was right. Both the Chamber of Commerce and the National Forest Office confirmed the impassability of route 15. Both suggested alternate day trips and hikes and tried their hardest to make us feel like we weren’t fools for driving so far without calling to check on these things first. It would be months before anyone was driving anywhere near the Cliff Dwellings.

So what do we do? Might as well see what Silver City has to offer.

North Bullard Street is the place to be. The wide street gathers most of the local businesses and sets them in a very walkable nucleus, all housed in storefronts no taller than a few stories. A few neon signs pop out here and there but for the most part, we had to peek through the windows to see which doors led to restaurants, which to the food co-op, which to apartments. Some of the downtown buildings keep an historic appearance while others choose to brighten the scene by painting themselves hot pink, orange or red. Bullard Street looks like a street off the set of a Wild West movie where someone got the paint cans mixed up.

We spent all day at the coffee shop next to our hotel. It was appropriately named Rejuvenation. After we rejuvenated we walked the streets with a caffeine buzz looking for someplace to be. The Silver City Brewing Company was the only other place with people in it this sunny mid-afternoon. So we went and had a seat.

As soon as we walked in, I could see a man at the bar, actually more like a counter in a small prefab mobile unit, looking for a reason to start talking to us. All he had to say was that he had just returned from six months working in Antarctica. Michael took it from there.

How cold is it, really? How many people live in the research settlements? Do people go crazy with darkness and cold? Can you hike? What’s there to see? What do you do there? What does anybody do there?

Hours passed. Michael was happy to have some of his curiosity sated. David seemed thrilled to have anyone listen to his stories. People came and went and joined in the conversation. We suddenly realized we hadn’t eaten all day and were very, very hungry.

After some conference, everyone decided we should try to get to the Silver Café before it closed. No one could remember whether it was open on Mondays. All agreed it was worth a shot. So we shook sets of hands and said our goodbyes and hoped that the neon sign would still be glowing by the time we reached the little eatery.

The sign was lit. Almost every booth and table was full, except for one in the corner near the kitchen window. We snuck past the lively crowd and sat down to bowls of freshly deep fried tortilla chips and liquid fire. Neither of us made it past the first thing listed on the menu: the $7 combo platter.

Taco, chile relleno, two enchiladas, beans, rice and sopapillas. Red sauce for Michael; green sauce for me. Dinner was filling and delicious. We finished our meals around the same time everyone else did, in time for the waitresses to start tidying up and turn off the neon sign. It was seven o’clock.

We strolled back to our room almost thankful that the river ran a little wild. Getting back to Gila presents a bit of a logistical challenge for us now, but at least we can look forward to another night in Silver City. New Mexico isn’t bad at all.

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