Yuk. Santa Fe was a gray, soggy, gloomy mess when I arose this morning for the traditional breakfast burrito at Tia Sophia. I thought briefly about having a soak at Ten Thousand Waves, but the frosty clouds shrouding the mountains sent me packing. I’m on the road to escape that sort of thing, not wallow in it.
Stopped in sunny Socorro for the combo plate at Frank and Lupe’s El Sombrero, a place I haven’t visited in a few years. It was everything La Choza was not — prompt, attentive service, delicious food and reasonably priced at $9.57, or less than half what I paid for an uninteresting dinner in Santa Fe. The chiles they use in the green are obtained locally, too.
Now I’m in Las Cruces, planning a visit to the High Desert Brewing Company, whose motto is, “None of our beers suck.” Not strictly grammatical, but true as of my last visit, circa 2007 or thereabouts.
I’m extrapolating, of course. Not even I can drink every beer in a brewpub. But don’t think I haven’t tried.
Mad Blog Media 
You’re killing us! As for me, I’ve not been in Las Cruces for 30 years… One minor point: Either you were at the High Desert Brewing Company before you wrote this post, or you can’t type after driving. Their motto, “None of Our Beers Suck.” %-) Jealous, we are!
Hey, Bruce,
I can’t type after driving. I cribbed the motto from memory, got it wrong, went to correct it, and of course screwed it up.
Las Cruces has grown some in the past three decades — hell, it’s grown since I was here just a few years ago — but I was able to find High Desert without too much trouble. The place was absolutely insane, packed to the rafters, maybe because The Deming Fusiliers were playing. I got a seat at the bar and defended it against all comers. The IPA was good, but not as hoppy as Second Street’s.
You’ll like this. A guy sitting next stool over struck up a conversation with me; turns out he goes to church with the woman who’s leading my bike tour. “Small world,” says I. “Las Cruces,” says he. “Welcome.”
Please post a review of the beers you had at High Desert. I’d really like to know about the Bohemian Pilsener. I trust you got a 1/2 gallon Growler-to-go. Which begs the questions: Do roadies use Camelbacks? Can you fill Camelbacks with beer?
Lately, I’ve been on a Belgian beer tour. Mostly I drink red label Chimay. But today I had a Lindeman’s Peach Lambic, a dessert in a bottle. Lots o’ Stella Artois in the fridge, as is a large bottle of Lindeman’s Framboise (the only beer my wife drinks) and red Chimay. I let the Duvel stay on the shelf at the grocery store. That’s a safe distance so I don’t make a hasty decision and grab one without first locking up all the sharp things. I like Duvel, but only when I want to be bad.
As for Cruces, I bought a frame in Las Cruces back in the 80’s. I broke my Gitane on a descent of Trans Mountain in El Paso, and a teammate suggested I could go to Cruces to his friend’s store for a reasonably priced replacement and after-hours access to all the tools. I bought a Faggin with Columbus SP tubing and a cool red/white/green fade paintjob–a total copy of the Pinarello paintjob on Grewal’s bike from 1984. The frame was great, but the name brought on some grief. I haven’t been back to El Paso/Las Cruces since, but I enjoyed the short time I was there.
Keep posting. We are living vicariously through you.
Ah, FAGGIN. Nice bike but when our friend Chairman Bill of Torelli suggested we carry them in the store way back then we had to reply, “we just don’t think anyone will buy a bike with faggin’ painted onto it.” A shame but some words/names just don’t translate well. Colnago’s Master Piu (piu means more) was sort of a sales dud in the US for the same reason. Today I’m eating cereal from a box that says VITALIS on it — isn’t that a men’s hair product in the US? Someone told me the Chevy Nova was a dud in South American because it translated as NO VA (as in no go). Have fun Patrick but don’t get too crazy with the suds — there’s some wine to be enjoyed too, no?