I have wanted to go to Taos for a long time. I’ve been collecting Native American pottery for more than 35 years, and Taos was one of those places I always imagined would speak to me. I tried to get there several times — once in 2020, when everything was closed for COVID, and another time when I was in Albuquerque but couldn’t make the drive. So this year, Taos was firmly on my must‑do list.
I left Sedona and drove across Arizona and half of New Mexico to reach Taos. My campground sat right on the edge of town. It was late March, and I couldn’t believe how cold it was. A couple of days even brought snow flurries. But I did everything I came to do. I explored downtown, took photos of the Native American influence woven into the architecture and artwork, and wandered through the galleries. I’ll admit I was a little disappointed by the prices and by how commercialized Taos has become. There were plenty of beautiful things, but also a lot of high‑end boutiques and heavy marketing that didn’t match the quiet, earthy Taos I had imagined.
The Taos Pueblo was the part I cared about most, and it isn’t open every day, so I had to plan carefully. Taos Pueblo is both a National Historic Landmark and a UNESCO World Heritage Site — one of the few places in the United States with that dual designation. UNESCO recognized it because it is one of the oldest continuously inhabited communities in North America, with multi‑story adobe structures that have stood for nearly 1,500 years.
I was surprised to learn how people still live there today. The modernization is minimal by design. The Pueblo community has chosen to preserve the historic character, so there is no running water inside the homes, no air conditioning, and no modern electrical lines strung across the buildings. Some homes have limited electricity brought in discreetly, and there are shared modern facilities elsewhere on the Pueblo, but the structures themselves remain essentially as they have been for centuries. The thick adobe walls still provide insulation, and the traditional ovens — the hornos — are still used for baking. Walking the grounds felt like stepping into a living piece of history. I took hundreds of photos, far more than I’ll ever use, but I couldn’t help myself.
One day, I drove the Enchanted Circle, a scenic loop that climbs into the mountains and circles back to Taos. My first stop was Angel Fire, a ski town where I once knew the city manager. The whole route is dotted with small communities, mountain vistas, and places that make you pull over for “just one more picture.”
The Enchanted Circle isn’t just a pretty drive — it’s a route layered with Native history. The mountains and valleys along the loop are part of the traditional homelands of the Taos Pueblo people. These lands were used for seasonal hunting, gathering, and spiritual ceremonies tied to the cycles of the mountains. Wheeler Peak, the highest point in New Mexico, is considered sacred, and the circle follows old travel paths that connected Pueblo communities with plains tribes to the east. Even without knowing every detail, you can feel that the landscape holds stories much older than the road that runs through it.
Just before I left Taos, I visited the Rio Grande Gorge, where the Rio Grande River cuts a deep canyon through the plateau. After spending so much time in the Southwest, deep canyons with bridges and rivers at the bottom start to feel like they’re everywhere — and I know they’re not. They just seem to appear everywhere I go because the land around them is so striking. It’s never just the canyon; it’s the sky, the mountains, the light, and the sense that the land has been shaped and reshaped for longer than we can imagine.
