Green Chile and Hot Springs tour
We made a bee-line straight down Interstate 25, through Albuquerque, running the usual road-trip errands: fuel, truck-stop showers, bathroom breaks, repeat. By early afternoon we rolled off the highway just north of Socorro, New Mexico, chasing another patch of dirt our maps had promised — the Quebradas Backcountry Byway.
These backcountry routes have been good to us lately, so hopes were high. The Quebradas runs for twenty-odd miles through rugged red mesas and technicolor badlands — the kind of landscape that looks Photoshopped even when you’re standing in it. We figured we’d spend a few quiet nights out there unwinding from the Santa Fe chaos.
The first few miles looked promising — open pullouts, good views — but every decent spot was already taken. We pressed on, bouncing along the washboard gravel waiting for something perfect to pop up. One tempting turn-off devolved into a hardcore 4×4 crawl, way above Kerri’s comfort zone (and mine). Eventually we found a promising mesa-top pullout — but before we could even shut off the engine, a convoy of quad-riding locals buzzed up to inform us, in that friendly-but-firm New Mexico way, that we were on “private property.” The maps disagreed, but I wasn’t in the mood to debate land rights with four armed guys on ATVs, so we waved, smiled, and rolled on.
Eventually we lucked into a pullout with a sweeping view over a canyon wash. Remote, quiet, and legally ours — all the boxes checked. Aside from one couple who parked nearby for a quick hike, we had the place to ourselves. We did our own little wander down the wash the next day just to see what lay beyond the bend. The answer: not much, but it was a fine excuse for some sunshine and silence.
After two nights, the road was calling again. I’d read about a lesser-known spur road branching off the Byway that promised “more excitement.” Naturally, that’s the one we took. It wound along the rim of another mesa, where we finally parked on a cliff edge overlooking the distant glow of Socorro and the faint line of the Interstate. Perfect spot for one more night of solitude.
That night the northern lights were supposedly visible this far south, so we bundled up and went outside to try for a glimpse. Kerri had her phone. The lights never really showed, but she did manage to capture a truly breathtaking photo — of herself. Flash on. Selfie mode. Northern lights nowhere to be found. We laughed until the desert echoed.
Morning came, and we reluctantly rolled back toward pavement. We had a long haul ahead — about four hours, which in our world means eight — with just enough time for groceries, propane, fuel, and, of course, one more green-chile burger for Kerri , this one from the Owl Cafe (an icon).
By sunset we were soaking at Faywood Hot Springs, one of our all-time New Mexico favorites. We’ve been here twice before (2019 & 2020), and it still feels like an oasis from time. We booked a week in the dry-camping area, but it took less than a day to extend it — twice. Nine full days of steaming, sleeping, working a little, and doing a whole lot of nothing. Morning soaks. Evening soaks. Rinse, repeat. No drives. No projects. No photos, even — we were that relaxed. So you’ll have to settle for a picture from our last visit over five years ago.
When we finally did leave Faywood, heading back toward the Interstate, we made one last, totally predictable stop: another green-chile burger. Kerri’s final one of the trip. Because in New Mexico, you never pass up the chance for just one more, and the Arizona border is on the day’s agenda.
