The High Country

Yep, the mini road trip just crossed the 5,000 mile mark. I’m sitting in the High Country Lounge in Chama, New Mexico. The Saloon side was closed, although it seems open from where I’m sitting now on the restaurant side of the operation. Next door is an internet business with broadband, but they are closed on Sundays. Luckily for me they did not turn off their WiFi thingie while they were out. I sat in the parking lot and double-checked that I had indeed uploaded the latest Jer’s Novel Writer for the kids at Apple to evaluate. So, hopefully everything’s cool now.

The waitress is stretched a little thin right now; the first customers have arrived over there and she’s in charge of both sides. She sounds like she’s from Wisconsin as she greets regulars warmly. “It’s not music without Bob Marley,” she just said, which sounds pleasantly odd when spoken in a Wisconsin accent.

Other than that, not much to report. It was nice to see all the rock stacks still standing in the morning sunshine; I got a few more pictures that maybe will show them better. I’ll try to get a photo episode up soon.

Addendum: I am on the Saloon side now, a place I’ve always enjoyed being. The place manages to be rustic without crossing the line into kitsch — just how they do this is not clear. They have the old bits of western paraphernalia on the walls, wagon wheels in the divider between the sittin’ area and the bar, and all that. It just doesn’t seem contrived in a place like this. There is a fire crackling merrily in the corner (even sunny days in spring can be chilly up here), and that’s always a plus. Add a juke box with Bob Marley and Pink Floyd (turned up to respectable levels), a reasonable beer selection, and friendly conversation flowing through the spokes of the wagon wheel, and you’ve got yourself a nice place to hang. If you’re in the area, do yourself a favor and drop by the High Country.

9 thoughts on “The High Country

  1. As a matter of fact, there is a sort of wooden rail out front that might serve as a hitchin’ post. But it’s probably there so’s if somebody’s had a bit much and accidently puts the truck into forward instead of reverse, it don’t hit the buildin’.

  2. So you’re saying that you could tie up your horse there but you wouldn’t want to because it might be run over by an overserved pickup truck driver.

  3. The folks who actually arrive at the High Country on horseback tie their horses up around to the side of the building.

  4. Che here, manager of The High Country.
    Glad you enjoyed yourself and appreciate our uniqe atmosphere, would like to add that we have live music on Friday night by Andy and Dina (country heat) and saturdays David Hammond, Rob Doan and a huge variety of visiting and local artists(treated and released).
    True we don’t have a hithcin’ post but as stated in the last comment any true cowboy who rides into The High Country parks his horse around back, I actually remember a certain night many years ago when a particular cowboy parked his horse out back and proceeded to get real drunk, or maybee he arrived that way. Anyhow someone took it upon themselves to remove his horses saddle and send it home without it’s rider(to keep both man and beast out of trouble.

  5. Che – It’s a pleasure to have you drop by my place in return. Ah, the power of Google to unite. This wasn’t the first time I wrote about the pleasant atmosphere at the High Country, and with any luck it won’t be the last.

    Going back over the episode you found, I’m a little surprised by how short it is. I must have been pretty deep in whatever I was working on to not take the time to mention the shift change, the scarily pretty girl who took over, the call she got about her brother needing emergency surgery in Albuquerque, the cool guy that came in to cover for her, and the repeated calls from his (drunk?) girlfriend to bitch at him for being at work. (“Yes, I am at work. You called me!”) Good storytellin’ material there.

    And then there were the guys from Boston, on a major road trip (Seven months, heading home now), who were there to watch the Rex Sox play the Yankees, and there was another guy who’d been a Minor League prospect only to blow out his arm (I think it was his arm) within weeks of getting onto a farm team.

    Did I really not write about any of that? Dang.

    Next time I’m in the time zone I’ll be sure to catch some live tunes. Meanwhile, thanks for letting the New Mexico readers (there are some right in your neighborhood) know about it.

  6. I was wondering why the blog seemed so dry at the moment, and right there in the “What’s New Pussycat” section is the facts. I hadn’t realized you couldn’t post – but what is the reason? You have to pay them or something? Is it time for a bloggcomm collection?
    Yes mr. IRS man. I tithe 10% per annum to the church of the almighty muddled.

    I like the self portrait. Next week you can draw a little face on the middle one.

    Here’s one for the muddled dictionary: I originally typoed portrait as portrati. Sounds Italian. The Self Portrati are them thats take lots o pics of themselves.

  7. I like portrati. I can’t post because when I upgraded to iBlog 2 I was unexpectedly in a free trial period. Big thumbs down to Lifli for not telling me that before I was committed, but I had been planning to pay anyway, as I have gotten a lot out of the software over the years. (I first started using iBlog long ago, as a free license given out by Apple.)

    I considered switching, but iBlog has features that other blogs don’t, and the prospect of moving 950 episodes does not appeal to me at all.

    No, I’m committed to the thing, which is OK. They deserve a little bit of cash being thrown their way. Only, I can’t pay. Their credit card system and my bank don’t get along. I think it will only take one more call to the bank, but last night when I got home I just didn’t want to deal with it. Sweet sleep is all I wanted.

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