Ultimate Southwest Girlfriend Getaway
Road trip! Two Budget Travel editors motored through New Mexico from Cloudcroft to Taos, mixing wild outdoor adventures with spicy local cuisine, an affordable spa visit, must-see historical sites—and one very cute cowboy.
Show of hands: Is it a jerk move to taunt someone who says they’re afraid of ghosts by making them listen to dramatic ghost stories? Looking back, perhaps that wasn't the kindest, gentlest way to kick off a girlfriend getaway road trip through New Mexico with BT Photo Editor Whitney Tressel. In my defense, she revealed her phobia after we had pulled up to the Lodge at Cloudcroft, a Titanic-era haunted mansion perched high in the Sacramento Mountains. And I honestly thought she was kidding. Over dinner in the candlelit lodge, I pumped our server, Tonya, for information about "Rebecca," the hotel’s friendly, lovelorn ghost who “makes herself known” by moving small objects.
I was riveted. Whitney was terrified. “I’m going to sleep with you tonight,” she said. Again, I thought she was kidding. But she followed me upstairs, dragged her suitcase into my room, changed into a psychedelic T-shirt and pajama pants, climbed into bed, and fell asleep.
As I lay stiff and wide awake on one side of the four-poster Victorian-style bed, under a portrait of Mexican-American War hero Zachary Taylor, tapping out notes about our trip on my smartphone, my world-weary Louise to her excitable Thelma, I heard Whitney whimpering. Should I break the touch barrier to wake her up?
I nudged her shoulder and found her skin clammy. She had goosebumps. And it was my fault. “Jamie...?” she said, voice wavering. “Thank you. I just got a’scared.” Caring for others isn’t my strong suit, but in that moment, my heart went out to her in a way that the closeness of a road trip fosters. “It’s OK,” I said in my the most soothing tone I could muster. “Everything is going to be all right.”
Rebecca never did reveal herself, but we did have some certifiably spiritual adventures in the desert, where women have gone for centuries to be reborn. Come along on our journey through the Southwest, a fabulously inexpensive bonding trip of a lifetime.
Day 1: Cloudcroft to Albuquerque
Whitney at the wheel, we wound down through the mountains from the Lodge at Cloudcroft (from $99 per night) on Highway 82 in our rented Volkswagen Bug on our way to White Sands National Monument.
Driving into White Sands, a vast, 10-acre desert scape of sparkling gypsum crests, mounds, and drifts, is like discovering a portal to another universe and pushing through to the other side ($5). We parked six miles in, where a ranger told us the “scenery gets good,” and I bent down to scoop up a handful of gypsum sand, fine and soft to the touch. The tops of the dunes’ curves are almost feminine—they move and change with the wind, the bone-dry landscape constantly shifting. Only the strong plants and animals survive—the ones that are able to adapt. Like the bleached earless lizard and the defiantly vibrant pink sand verbena. And, I might add, Whitney and me. On rented purple and green plastic discs, we sledded down the dunes together, shouting, “I’m the winner!” “No, you’re the winner!”—sometimes taking rough tumbles instead of elegant swooshes. Over and over, we stood up after falling, yelling, “I’m okay!” before clambering back up the dunes in our leather boots and jeans, eager to go again.
Sand in our clothes, we drove to Albuquerque on 25 North through pounding rains and angry navy-blue skies, looking in the rear-view mirrors at the clear blue sky and fluffy clouds that trailed behind us, as though we were inhabiting two separate worlds. When the radio turned staticky, I fiddled with music on my smartphone, searching for tunes we could agree on—Whitney explained to me who rapper Fetty Wap was; I quickly scrolled past my extensive Frightened Rabbit collection—before we chose an album we both loved, the lyrics inscribed on our lives years ago: Scarlet’s Walk, by Tori Amos, about a coast-to-coast journey through America. Perfect. We belted “A Sorta Fairytale” in unison: “Down New Mexico way, somethin’ about the open road / I knew that he was lookin’ for some Indian blood / Find a little in you, find a little in me / We may be on this road, but / We’re just imposters in this country, you know…”