What are the Odds?

What are the odds that at a small outdoor café (6 tables) in Santa Fe, New Mexico three adjacent tables would have submarine sailors?  I have been wearing my ball cap that I got two conventions ago. It reads USS Quillback, SS424. One guy sat down and said "I was on the Trout before I went nuc." Immediately the guy at the next table chimed in with the names of his subs and the banter began. Chuck’s reply was "I was on a real sub, not a floating hotel" (which is what diesel boat men call nuclear subs.) We shared stories over good café food and amongst beautiful flowers for an hour before everyone peeled off one to Denver, one to Taos, and Chuck and me to the Sanctuary of Our Lady of Guadaloupe. Let me return to the morning… Chuck dropped me off at the Georgia O’Keeffe museum at 10am where I broused the exhibit and gift store while waiting for my docent tour at 10:30.  Our tour guide was a retired lawyer who loves art…  He talked all about O’Keeffe and her work. She lived 97 years and painted until 2 years before her death.  He then took me around to show me some paintings. In all I was there for 2 hours of bliss. Then I went with Chuck to the Monk’s store (we’ve been drinking Monk’s ale and we’ll go up to the Monastery tomorrow). and then I went to find the oldest church San Miguel (Saint Michael the Archangel) where I enjoyed a nice talk with the volunteer on duty about the church and Catholicism (no matter where I am in the world, a Catholic church is always the same!).  I found Chuck seated at the cafe when I exited!  the rest is history… After a full day of visiting museums and churches we went to the Town Plaza and sat in our chairs with wine to listen to 3 hours of country music and watch the 2 stepping dancers. What fun. Our "next chair neighbors" had a wonderful sweet dog who kept looking for popcorn scraps that kids dropped.  He was mostly sleeping but when the crowd would give a rousing applause, he would bark!  To bed to sleep to get ready for the morrow’s road trip.    Tuesday morning we headed for Abiquiu, the home of Georgia O’Keeffe. We began to see the amazing colored hills and flat tops and just amazing beauty that made O’Keeffe love the Abiquiu area of New Mexico.  "Just up the road" is the monastery. We found the sign for the Monastery and turned left… 13 miles ahead. Chuck said, "are you sure you want to go there" He doesn’t like to go "off path" for 13 miles in and then 13 miles back out. "Yes."  OK. Suddenly, within 100 yards, the paved road stopped. Do you know the terms washboard and ruts? My tummy sank, 13 miles of this. It got worse. As we climbed into the desert the dirt road narrowed and narrowed some more. The edge became a cliff and Chuck kept driving on. "It’s like a pilgrimage," I said. Later Chuck told me that if a tire went into the rut at the side of the road, or off the road as the van occasionally skittered, we couldn’t get out. Driving a big 2 wheel drive van loaded with art over that road wasn’t the safest (or smartest). At each mile marker I’d say, "5; only 8 to go." Going in was the slowest longest ride I’ve ever taken. At one point when we got to a gorge and looked down at the flowing water – at the 7 mile marker "only 6 miles to go" I was sure we might not make it. "This is worse than the road to Hana." Chuck said "Croage Patrick where pilgrims crawl up a mountain but not in a big van loaded with art." Or it’s like the ungraded road he and Dick used to use to get to the hunting site. After an hour of that, I saw the out buildings and a parking site. "All cars park here" the sign said.  Meanwhile I wanted to get to a 1pm service called Sext when the Monks chant the liturgy of the hours.  It was 12:40 and I have a bum knee that hasn’t been very happy with all the walking we’ve been doing. Chuck said "I’ll drop you off." We climbed on now gravel and rock and Chuck said, "Get out, we’re sinking!" I left him to get back down to the parking lot… I went into a beautiful silent chapel with about 15 "civilians" and then the Monks started coming in. We chanted the prayers and the monk master took the civilians off and so I went into the meditation garden and the little shop. With a silent Monk praying nearby, I found some books like I always do. You write down what you want and put credit card #s on a sheet of paper and put it in a basket…   I’ve been trying to cut back on buying books, but I just can’t resist the books here in New Mexico. Back down to the van and I found Chuck happy and reading. Only 13 miles to get out of there.  With approximately 10 miles to go, we stopped on the way out to talk to a Park Ranger (it is the Sierra National Forest) he said, "OH you shouldn’t have any trouble, unless it rains…" We were looking at the darkest sky and the wind was rising. I took about a million pictures and we did stop to look at the running water in the gorge. With only 5 miles to go it rained, but Chuck was able to go a little faster after we crowded over to the side to let a road grader go through. On to Taos and a beautiful steak dinner with table cloths and wine!  On to Denver this morning.  God bless you