When time allows in Albuquerque

The sun broke out around Glorieta Pass after a cloud-covered morning cross the vast plains of northeastern New Mexico. I came off the high ground and into Albuquerque, roaring into town as I always did and glad to be in such a place on a sunny afternoon. Catching Albuquerque in the brightness gave the city a nice glow.

Needing to eat, I had to stop at Flying Star on Central Avenue, because everything comes back to Central Avenue in ABQ. I could have hit the Frontier or other stops, but the Flying Star felt the right place. Each Flying Star location varies its menu, but today all-day breakfast sounded perfect at 3 p.m.

Over the extinct volcanoes on Albuquerque's western ridge, a major line of thunderstorms moved toward the city. I wondered if the baseball game would go on. But I didn’t dwell on that; I was going no matter what. Rainout dates did me no favors with my short timeline in Albuquerque.

Sister Bar

I checked into the hotel, then wandered for a while. I circled the neighborhood where Jesse Pinkman lived on Breaking Bad, spotted the house I believed to be his, but I did not stop since neighbors stood talking in the street and I didn’t want to be that guy. I stopped into Sister Bar, a casual place on Central Avenue Downtown that hosted concerts. I had planned to visit two years before to see OM, a droning metal band, but COVID-19 was in the process of cancelling everything. 

On a Thursday, Sister was lightly trafficked at rush hour and the bartenders were friendly. Here I finally tasted Dos Hombres, the mezcal label of Bryan Cranston and Aaron Paul. I took it on the rocks with a water on the side. it was good mezcal, since I nearly finished my drink without touching the water. 

Quickly it became time for the Isotopes. Isotopes Park was as fine a AAA ballpark as a visitor could hope to see. The Springfield Isotopes had been features on The Simpsons since its early years. One episode found Homer protesting ownership's secret plan to move the Isotopes to Albuquerque, which were abandoned from his efforts. 

A few years later, the Isotopes became reality. When Albuquerque residents voted on a new team name, two=-thirds picked the Isotopes.The team went with it, since New Mexico's history in developing the atomic bomb and major employers like Los Alamos National Laboratory made Isotopes a workable name. Even if we all know the name was driven by The Simpsons.

Cranston and Paul on the jumbotron

A Simpsons connection led to statues and images of the family to appear across the main concourse. Somehow every statue had some rough character sitting next to it, so it was hard to get good pictures. 

Minutes after I walked into the stadium, the rain arrived. The grounds crew had tarps on the infield in minutes. Baseball would wait out the storm.

I got an Albuquerque beer, a raspberry wheat. My Cleveland Spiders shirt drew immediately Brad, a retiree usher originally from Cleveland. We talked through most of the rain delay, even after I took a walk through the park while we waited for play to resume. He exemplified the friendliness I saw during 24 hours in Albuquerque. 

During the delay, I also spent time with a young usher originally from Las Vegas who still cheered for its teams, including the Istopes’ opponent, the Las Vegas Aviators. Some nice people who regularly attended games sat behind me. We moved into conversation gradually and it felt so nice. That rarely happens for me. I appreciated that they were fine with talking to a stranger. Before I left, I told them I knew when I came back that Section 114 was the friendly place to go.  

By 7 a.m. I returned to Central Avenue. The morning inversion fog seemed to creep over the Sandia Peak on its path east. It was strangely beautiful, and the waitress saw it as well. It was gratifying to know people who lives here appreciated what the mountains did. 

At that hour, Old Town has not opened its touristy doors. It was even light on homeless, just a single man sleeping in the square’s gazebo. You could park anywhere as Old Town’s prime time was hours away. I chatted with a man wiping down a vintage car, a red 1940 Ford that looked as if it just rolled out of the dealership. 

On Friday mornings, several owners of vintage autos gathered around the square, and sometimes had breakfast together. I had never seen Old Town so empty and enjoyed the freedom to wander. Nothing was open, sure, but no one else wandered, just the tourists on their morning runs. 

At Petroglyph, I stuck with the museum this time. I had to keep an eye on when Breaking Bad might garner the town’s attention. The federal mask requirement sent me scurrying back down to the street to a drugstore, but I got continued praise from a young man to whom I promised a mask and delivered – You can’t lie about such things. 

From the west side, I could spot distant I-25 from the line of smog on its path. The Sandia mountains lie on the east side of town, so it’s hard to miss band of low clouds. I stayed around the few easy-to-visit sites along the West ridge of Albuquerque. There still scenic but I had a mission on this trip. The impromptu nature of the trip meant I had to make a quick exit following the event with the statues for a quiet but rainy drive back to Colorado.

There would be more Albuquerque trips to come. I crossed the Rio Grande and admired the green Cottonwood groves soaring above its bank. This was the first time in 40 years when the Rio Grande’s flow through Albuquerque had been broken. 

Albuquerque is home to the thickest cottonwood grove anywhere in the U.S. Crossing the Rio Grande certainly felt like crossing an unusually thick forest, especially in a landscape light on trees. Water or not, I wondered if my future might lie close to these beautiful banks, even if they might have less river in the future. If not, the Duke City can remain an easy visit.