I was in New Mexico recently on a travel research assignment, and it was my first visit to the Land of Enchantment. Driving from Santa Fe to Taos, I had two route options: the main highway (US 84 to US 68) or what is commonly known as the High Road to Taos, a circuitous, dramatically scenic route that passes several villages with strong Indian roots along the way. Both were about the same length (70 or 76 miles). The High Road, however, seemed like the more adventurous way to go. Count me in.

My friend Will and I set out on US 285 from Santa Fe on a picture-perfect morning—sunny, cool and dry. The turnoff for the High Road (SR 503) is about 15 miles north at the Indian pueblo of Pojoaque; watch for the sign on the right. Almost immediately after making the turn the road begins to climb, the landscape changing from tawny shrub-speckled hills to trees and green meadows. Mile markers along the roadside were helpful in keeping track of the distance we traveled. Click here to see, share and save our TripTik Travel Planner route.

Past the pueblo of Nambe the landscape changes again. Between mile marker 5 and Chimayó the views, framed by the lofty Sangre de Cristo Mountains, are stunning in their austerity. Juniper and scrubby piñon pines dot the rolling hills in a polka-dot pattern, broken here and there by rounded sandstone rock formations rising up abruptly. I had heard about the “magical light” in New Mexico’s high desert country, but it’s something that can’t really be put into words. Perhaps it’s the low humidity, but there’s a crystalline quality to the air that seems to lend clarity and detail to everything. And the sky is absolutely huge. A few little puffballs of cumulus floated against a backdrop of cerulean blue. Almost immediately I started bugging Will, the designated driver, to pull off so I could take pictures.

We took the side turnoff to Chimayó and El Santuario de Chimayó (turn left off the High Road on Juan Medina Road/SR 98 about 2 miles to Sanctuary Drive, then right on Sanctuary Drive to the parking area). This small adobe chapel, tucked into a verdant valley watered by the Santa Cruz River, has a serene dignity. It was built in 1816 where a wooden crucifix was unearthed, and the spot is believed to have magical healing powers. Simple decorated shrines stood under trees on the grounds. The unexpectedly lush surroundings contributed to a wonderfully peaceful feeling.

From the chapel we backtracked and continued on the High Road to the junction with SR 76. At another designated scenic viewpoint there was a panoramic vista of an arroyo, or dry river bed. At mile marker 15 near the village of Truchas is a roadside cemetery, Los Llanitos. Here the terrain changes yet again, transitioning from high desert hills to ridges cloaked in forests of conifers that looked to be mostly pines, judging by the piney scent in the air. Another designated pull-off just before Truchas offers a great view of the trees.

We continued following the High Road north, where a UFO-inspired mural on the side of a building pointed the way to our destination. Pine forests line this section of the route. We drove by the tiny village of Trampas—maybe ten scattered buildings and houses. My stomach was now grumbling and I suddenly remembered that my colleague Eli Ellison had recommended a restaurant in Peñasco, the next town (stay on the High Road by turning right onto SR 75 from SR 76).

As it turned out Eli was on the money. Sugar Nymphs Bistro, right on the highway, occupies a brightly painted adobe building that also houses a theater and serves as a community center. The one-room dining area is cozy and relaxed, with mismatched wooden tables and chairs, a wood-burning stove in one corner and paintings by local artists adding charm. The menu of soups and sandwiches included that New Mexican staple, a green chile cheeseburger, but I went with the Jicorita (pronounced HI-corita) burger with hickory-smoked bacon, mushrooms and cheddar and a bowl of homemade vegetable soup. Both were excellent, as was the grilled focaccia that came with Will’s salad; he relinquished it and I gladly consumed the extra carbs. Note: It’s open seasonally, so call ahead.

Tummies full, we pressed on toward Ranchos de Taos. The last leg of the High Road is SR 518, which winds through Carson National Forest. Stop at the scenic overlook (mile marker 61) for a really nice panorama. You’ll see aspen trees starting to mix in with the pines—specifically the quaking aspen, native to northern and western North America. The name alludes to the nearly round leaves that flutter in the slightest breeze. Their light green color contrasted with the darker tones of the pines; I’d love to come back in the fall, when aspen leaves turn brilliant shades of red and yellow. 

The High Road to Taos ends at the junction with SR 68; turn right and you’re headed north through Ranchos de Taos on a rather nondescript highway lined with businesses—although there is an impressive backdrop of mountains. “The guidebooks aren’t all wrong about Taos exuding atmosphere, are they?” I wondered to myself. Of course the guidebooks aren’t wrong; once you’re in Taos proper atmosphere takes over.

We headed straight for Taos Plaza, which is the real deal; dating back to the late 18th century, it’s been a community meeting place for decades. A huge tree stands in the center of the plaza, there’s a covered gazebo, galleries and shops to poke around in, and benches where you can plop down and adjust your internal rhythms to a more laid-back pace. And as luck would have it, the day of our arrival coincided with the kickoff of the plaza’s Thursday summer concert series. That evening Last to Know, a local band, grooved an assembled crowd with music that was part bluegrass and part Grateful Dead-inspired jamming. Combined with a thunderstorm over the nearby mountains that not only spared us but resulted in a psychedelic sunset, it was a pure Taos welcome.

Stay tuned for my next blog about An Inn on the Rio, a Taos bed & breakfast I heartily recommend.