A Taos winter - Taos, New Mexico - includes travel information

Sunset, Dec, 1999 by Dale Conour

I'm preoccupied with an earlier conversation with the town's mayor, Fred Peralta. He had offered diplomatic answers to issues surrounding the town: the pueblo's deliberations over opening a gambling casino, the fevered development on surrounding county lands.

And then we got around to the positives. Peralta began, with a slight gleam in his eye, by asking how I drove into town. If you drive State 68 from the southwest, there comes a moment when the mesa opens up before you. To the left a great chasm, formed by the Rio Grande, rends the earth. Ahead rise Taos Mountain and the Sangre de Cristo Range. And' below, tiny in comparison but golden in the light, rests Taos. First and foremost, there is the land.

And it strikes me now, as we ride, what my days in Taos have given me to hold. I was shown, in brief, the path that Blumenschein took, that Lawrence recognized. Those who take it will understand Taos; those who are willing will find themselves. You let the inside out. But just as important, and when you're ready, you let the outside in.

There is a rumbling out of the southwest. Gomez and I look across the mesa to where the storm assaults the Jemez Mountains. The confrontation colors the sky in a dark cobalt streaked with lightning.

Gomez looks back at me. "Are you ready to gallop?" Then he is off, fading into the snow, his long hair trailing behind him. I prod the horse and feel it surge forward; the snow stings, the sagebrush whips at my pant legs, but I find the horse's rhythm, and then there is only the wind, the land, and the pounding of hooves.

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* Winter sun slants across Tesuque Pueblo. The spectators wait. It is Christmas Day. and the plaza's packed dirt is bare except for patches of last night's frost.

A deep thumping of drums signals that a ceremony is about to begin.

Drummers and singers arrive, their measured steps matched by the solemn bass pulse of the drums. The singers, all men, chant the cadences of a traditional Tewa text. Several dozen dancers follow, moccasin-clad feet stirring the dust in time to the drums and the singing.

Tesuque, just north of Santa Fe, is one of several northern New Mexico pueblos that hold dances in December and January. The winter dances reflect a long but often threatened heritage. The ceremonies were outlawed by New Mexico's early Spanish priests, but the pueblos held them secretly to keep their traditions alive. Some are animal dances, depicting buffalo or deer - because successful hunting meant survival during winter. Another dance, the Matachine, was inspired by the newcomers, being based on the Spanish struggle between Christians and Moors.

Considerate visitors are often welcome at the dances. Bundle up (winter days are cold here) and follow the rules of pueblo etiquette. Applause is not appropriate, nor is asking residents to explain the dances. Obey the no-trespassing signs. Spectators may arrive or depart during a dance, though it should be done discreetly.