I decided that I was ready to leave Arizona behind me. I looked on the map and decided that Gallup looked good. I crossed the border and stopped at the tourism information office at the rest stop right across the state line.
The helpful information specialist helped me identify a campground and she assured me that I wouldn’t have trouble getting a spot in the part – Red Rock Park at Church Rock, on the outskirts of Gallup.
I could see Church Rock from my campsite! They said they had a trail to Church Rock. I decided to give it a shot.
I walked along. I was prepared with a few bottles of water, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, my hat and my walking stick. The brochure about the trail warned about not going up something you can’t get down. I figured I’d give the trail a try – if it didn’t look like my cup of tea, I could always turn around.
After about a quarter of a mile, the trail kind of disappeared. The rock wall let me know that wasn’t the way.
I looked over to the left.
Uh…I wasn’t going to go down that way, either. Just then, an athletic young woman who had obviously done this trail before came up behind me. She said hello and then showed me the way over the edge. There were some steps cut into the rock.
I followed in her footsteps. I walked a bit further and then came up to a series of steps made out of railroad ties and dirt. They weren’t really stable. I decided that I had gone as far as I was meant to go. I turned around and decided to find something else to do with my day.
In the tourist literature, it mentioned that Gallup had a flea market, so I decided to check that out.
It was on a dusty patch of land next to a railroad siding. but it was definitely the place to be. It was hard to find a parking spot.
Across the street, vendors were selling bales of hay.
Some of the stalls had more permanent locations.
There were a number of food stalls that had some interesting offerings – you know, things that aren’t found at McDonald’s.
I think the pony ride looked like a lot of fun. The little kids were smiling – and so were their parents.
It was a pretty relaxed place. There was the most laid-back busker I’d ever seen. He put out his bag, box and sign and then was nowhere nearby. I did see him later on with his guitar, but there was no music happening. There wasn’t much money in the box, either.
There was a turquoise-colored trailer that had free library activities for the people there. There was an older woman using a computer, and young families playing some games.
I wandered around, looking at all the different things for sale. I was drawn to a hardware tent. Tools are cool!
Jewelry is a big thing at the market. You know what I learned? Indians wear Indian jewelry! I always figured that Indian jewelry was along the line of Chinese fortune cookies – not very authentic. I learned something.
This gentleman was selling rocks and beads that he made from them. That turquoise machine on the trailer is polishing the rocks. He fed handfuls of rocks into the hopper. After the rough edges were polished off, he drilled holes in them and sold them by the string.
There was a vendor who had used DVDs for sale.She had an eclectic assortment and I joined the crowd sifting through them. They were three for five dollars, so I picked up three for times when I have electricity but no broadcast signal.
I bought some food to take home – cookies, Navajo tamales, cake and something called “Kneel Down Bread.”
On my way back to the truck, I passed a a stand selling roast corn. The vendor had three ears left and I got one of them. I love corn!
After I got back to the campsite, I took pictures of my purchases.
I bought three cookies for one dollar. I ate two of them before I got the picture taken. It seemed kind of like a biscuit that was topped with cinnamon and maybe a dash of nutmeg.
The Navajo tamales were huge! They were tied with strips of corn husks. When I ordered them, the vendor pulled them out of a pot of boiling water. I always thought tamales were steamed. I guess there is more than one way to make them.
This was the cake. I asked the vendor if it was sweet. He looked at me as if I were crazy and said, “Of course it’s sweet. It’s cake.” I took a small taste of it. It wasn’t sweet. I didn’t care for it at all.
This is the kneel down bread. I rather liked it.
It tasted like freshly ground corn. I do love corn!
And here are the movies for those times when I just need a little entertainment.