There are two choices to return to Santa Fe from Boulder.
I-25 is faster. (Forget the 22 minutes Google estimates above; it's at least 90 minutes faster.)
The other route is my favorite as it takes you down the spine of Rockies, "the roof of America," as Kerouac called it in On The Road, through towns more than 10,000 feet high, along the Continental Divide where the skies are so blue and the snow so pure that you must wear sunglasses at all times or it hurts your eyes and you feel lucky to be alive, time and space telescoping as you imagine the people below you literally and behind you figuratively, memories of what should have been and wasn't and dreams of what lies ahead.
Also, it takes you by Del Taco.
I had told Monica for months of my love for Del Taco's grilled chicken tacos. She had never been to a Del Taco.
I cannot say I blame her. She has lived in Bogota, Miami, Las Vegas, Aspen, and Santa Fe. Of those cities, only Vegas contains a Del Taco and I'll be honest - if I lived there, I doubt I would ever go to Del Taco, either.
First, I had her try the eponymous taco, which I like very much but do not love.
"This tastes just like Taco Bell," she said.
I can't say she is completely wrong; it is a similar taco, though I do not believe it tastes the same, I believe Del Taco is much better.
However, what I really wanted her to try, of course, is my beloved grilled chicken soft taco.
"Okay, this is a delicious taco," she said upon first bite, and I felt validation, my single happiest memory of this road trip.
(That's a lie.)
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