Reeling in the Chili Line

Summer is just getting geared up and yet, I feel like it’s almost over. These sleepy, hot, comfortable days are the best. Being the 4th of July weekend, we decided to stretch out our sleepy days starting Friday and going through Tuesday.

Our friend, John, you may remember him from our wonderful Ken’s Cuisine adventure, asked if he could come up for the weekend to soak up some river time.
Knowing how important food is to my wife and I, John always arrives laden with offerings. This time in the form of huge platters of homemade enchiladas, delicious scones from Dolina in Santa Fe, and breakfast burritos from Blake’s. He’d also made a fresh batch of gazpacho, to keep us cool.  

Amazingly we’d plowed through all of these varied delights and found ourselves pondering where to go for breakfast by Sunday morning. All three of us were sad and baffled that we could not just drive the short distance to Cafe Sierra Negra, as they are not open at all on Sunday. Truly, sad and baffled!

We gathered in our living room to brainstorm our collective and best options. There are very few choices for a lingering and lazy Sunday breakfast in Abiquiu. Hint hint to any budding entrepreneurs out there…

We decided to embrace the effort with an adventurous spirit and drive all the way up to Tres Piedras to dine at the Chile Line Depot. Boy, are we glad that we did! The drive is a beautiful, peaceful hour from Abiquiu. Well worth it, if one views the trek as part of the entertaining journey. There are several routes to choose but being hungry, we chose the fastest, most direct one through Ojo Cailiente. Luckily for us, there was a spectacular thunderstorm brewing over the Taos valley. The sweeping views of the Sangre de Cristo mountains with lightning bolts and sheets of rain dropping from the dark clouds provided quite a dramatic backdrop.

Once in Tres Piedras, the Chile Line Depot is the only operating business and is quite distinctive and cheery. The building itself is attractive in its authentic depot allure and the grounds are pleasantly landscaped with colorful flowers and greenery.

Walking into the dining room, we were surrounded by an upbeat bustling chaos of a too busy eatery. The wafting aromas were torturously good. We chose a cozy table inside, as all of us were chilly. Yes, we were chilly!!! Leaving Abiquiu at 80 degrees, all of us were wearing the most scant clothing possible, we jokingly asked our server if they might have blankets that we could borrow.

The menu is large and has great reads to the history of the restaurant. Sadly, we had missed breakfast, served only until 11 am, but were fine with making do with the many choices still available. Still on a waistline reduction effort, I ordered the Chef Salad, both vinn and blue on the side and the buffalo wings, sans sauce, and a double side of ranch. John excitedly went for the Reuben and chose the potato salad as his side. My wife ordered the BBQ Ribs and chose French fries and coleslaw.

The wings arrived, as ordered, naked and fried and were just fine. The ranch was tangy and my salad was very fresh and good but confusing. We all landed on it being a mistake but happily ate it anyway. Beside the normal chef salad ingredients, there were also marinated cucumbers, diced green apples and pecans. There was a generous portion of deli ham, but also crisply made bacon. It was interesting, slathered in my two dressings, but my taste buds were a little confused.

John’s Reuben was exactly what a Rueben was designed to be. Toasted rye bread, heaped with corned beef, Swiss cheese, sauerkraut and Thousand Island dressing. We all rated it to be a good one. The potato salad was nicely seasoned and creamy and pert with skin on red. My wife’s ribs were large and porky, but were a little too fatty and the BBQ sauce needed some flare. The fries were homemade, but also needed some help. They appeared browned but were a little undercooked inside. Maybe more time in the fryer? The slaw was flavorful and on the sweet side.

John’s iced tea, my nothing and my wife’s “Not Your Father’s Root Beer” brought our total to a reasonable $65.00 before T and T. I highly recommend this place and I look forward to many future visits.

All of us were up to more adventure so chose a longer route home taking Highway 64 through the higher elevation to Tierra Amarilla, then left to Abiquiu. Wow, this is a beautiful drive! Immediately different from our entry into Tres Piedras, we were surrounded by lush, green grass and tall ponderosa pines. Aspens and wild flowers, brooks and creeks flanked the road and it smelled like the mountains of Colorado.

Coming around a bend in the road, there was a small, blindingly sparkling lake. We were all surprised and decided to circle back a bit to check it out. There was an entry sign saying, “Hopewell Lake Campground and Recreation”. Huh, cool, let’s go take a look.

It’s a clean, well organized and large park. The lake boasts being 14 acres, but looks smaller. There were a lot of cars parked in the parking area up near the many picnic tables and few shelters of the day use area. I stopped and asked some fishermen what the hopeful catch was and was answered with a happy and proud, “rainbow trout”. He said they were biting and they were big. According to the Tres Piedras Ranger Station, it was stocked just two weeks ago, hence the happy anglers. Almost the entire oval shore was lined with people fishing. Kids, grandmas, dogs, some floatation devices, even a foot paddle boat, but all, with fishing poles and a smile. Nobody was swimming but the Ranger told us you can indeed take a dip, as the high elevation (9,820 feet to be exact) prevents toxic algae from forming.

We drove up a little further into the camping area. It’s a well situated camp, with 32 nicely treed and spaced sites suitable for trailers, tents and even some horse sites. The bathrooms looked tidy and the camp seemed well run. There were a lot of campers but also, surprisingly, a lot of empty sites, considering the holiday weekend. While almost through with the camp site tour, I noticed that the gas light was on, alerting me of a near empty tank. Uh-oh, being Sunday we were alarmed. 

We beelined back to the highway, hoping for data service to confirm whether or not the TA gas stations were open on Sunday. No luck. We spotted a couple at a trailhead, down the highway, assumingly coming back to their car from a hike. I drove over to them to ask if they had happened to notice if the stations were open. First neither of them were sure, then the man said, “Wait, we got a bag of chips at the Mustang station.” To which I asked, “Today?” The man said yes and the woman said no. Huh. Having no choice, we took off towards TA, fingers crossed and a supportive “It’s downhill and we’ll be behind you soon” from the conflicting couple.
    
A stunning, and yes, mostly downhill half hour later, we made it to the 84 junction and turned right. Phew, the U-haul station, near the Mustang, was open with gas.
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We made it. As we were pulling away, heading back home, we heard a cheerful honk honk and realized it was the hikers celebrating our success. Full, rested and glad to have found a hidden gem, home we headed.

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