Raton (named for the Spanish word for rat) is the first town (village?) that you come to in New Mexico after going over the pass.   Miss P and I stopped in on our way south and they were having a little music/street festival. And I love to go to local festivals so we gave it a quick cruise.  (Miss P does not like them unless she gets something to eat, or finds something to eat on the ground.)

I don’t think people wear much tie-dye anymore, but it was available.

Marchiando’s store is still there after 102 years.

The beautiful stone building must have been a hotel at one time.

It was built to last.  And it lasted longer than the need.

Some folks going for an old time wagon ride.

The movie house was having a cowboy poetry reading.   Not quite as obnoxious as a poetry slam, cowboy poems are often funny or sentimental versions of a cowboy’s life.

And before the railroad came, Raton was part of the Santa Fe Trail.   Until they put in the modern highway, the road was a series of switchbacks up to the summit at 7800+ feet.   Must have been fun (not).