Santa Fe: Funky-fancy
A glossy, fire-engine-red statue with tilted head and black eye sockets that seem to follow me stands like a contemporary scarecrow outside a Canyon Road gallery. I've just passed another art shop's small yard full of metal whirligigs rotating in spiraling brightness, and here's this porcelain red guy who's kinda freakin' me out. But then, up ahead, I spot relaxed arms slouching over a café's patio railing where early-evening voices mix with the tinkling of ice in cocktail glasses, and I'm at ease.

photography: Ray Kachatorian The St. Francis Cathedral stands solidly in Santa Fe, representing one of the many religions that have played a role in shaping the town's spirituality.

The fall, especially September, is festive with chile pepper harvests and hillsides highlighted by yellowing aspen and cottonwood trees. Perhaps only New Orleans celebrates food, culture, arts, and eccentricities any better. Downtown hums as if it's been reborn, and the chill air enhances the cool factor of a night out among the Southwest's hippest crowd.

Between Santa Fe and Taos: just plain funky
Do you take the High Road or the Low Road? The classic question applies to jokes, restaurants, entire lifestyles. It's also your choice when you drive north, leaving Santa Fe's world-class cuisine and galleries, beautiful latte sippers, and Aston Martins parked by the curb.

The city's glitz quickly slips away, engulfed by the immense landscape of rolling hills and drifting sky. Two of northern New Mexico's best attractions are free and unavoidable: sunlight and clouds. Long fence lines and ranch dwellings hug the ground, ducking from the clouds' city-size shadows sweeping across the tan-and-sage canvas like a painting in motion.

photography: Ray Kachatorian The Taos Inn sign illuminates the inky evening like a retro neon lighthouse beckoning travelers to have a drink on the roadside patio.

This time of year, the cottonwoods' bright yellow leaves fall onto the green river's surface, the sandy ground, or your steaming soup of the day at Embudo Station. Just when it seems this winding river scenery can get no better and you must pull over and enjoy it, the Embudo Station restaurant beckons you to take a seat. The outdoor patio wasn't close enough to the action, so some tables and chairs have wandered down to the riverbank in the trees' shade and within rock-skipping distance of the water. Post-lunch nap time is only a tipped chair away.

The High Road climbs northeast through small, dusty towns like Cordova and Truchas. They hide bright, airy art galleries, many with artists studios nearby. It feels a bit foreign. Dogs roam the streets, and there's a remoteness highlighted by long views down the foothills and that odd, supernatural light.

The town of Penasco arrives just in time, and Sugar Nymphs Bistro provides a hearty lunch break. Farther up the High Road and deeper into the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, fir forests and golden meadows replace rock formations. Finally, in the Taos Valley, civilization makes a triumphant, perhaps premature, return.

Taos: Funky-Rustic
Maybe it's the stunningly natural drives to get here or the proximity to the biggest mountains in the state, but Taos feels far from Santa Fe. It has similar New Mexican architecture, plaza forms, food, and a history grounded in native cultures and art, but something feels more frontier, less trendsetter.

When two Western-wandering 19th-century painters stumbled into town with a broken wagon wheel, Taos caught them, and an artist colony was born. The New Yorkers spread the word back east, and

A classic Southwestern plaza anchors the town with the best (high-end) restaurant hiding within the Hotel La Fonda de Taos. Had it been around a century ago, the sexy Joseph's Table might have served D.H. Lawrence and wife Frieda in one of its cushioned, curtained booths.

I'm solo and not feeling the velvet-booth vibe so I go to the best not-so-high-end restaurant, Orlando's. I put my name on the list, order a margarita, and take a load off on a campfire-ring wood stump outside the front door. Art seekers, ranchers, outdoor enthusiasts, families, and L.A. types chat around the big circle, awaiting a table and plate of authentic New Mexican cuisine. Everyone looks enchanting with the big sky behind them full of clouds, the firelight warming their skin, and a carefree sense of adventure still in the air.

High Road: Santa Fe—Taos
The High Road climbs northeast from Santa Fe toward Penasco and then Taos. The road begins at the intersection of U.S. 84/285 and Route 503 in the village of Chimayo, where a small, dark sanctuary draws thousands of visitors hoping to snap photos or sprinkle loved ones with dirt believed to have healing powers. Chimayo's tourism can be overwhelming but it's a must-see, and the Rancho de Chimayo offers one of the state's most authentic Southwestern menus.

Just up the road from Chimayo, follow signs to the 700-year-old Nambe Pueblo and Nambe Falls. The Nambe Pueblo, one of many functioning Native American villages in the region, is largely a farming community, with traditional arts making a comeback in the form of pottery. Visitors can take a self-guided tour of the pueblo (open daily), then continue 3 miles up the road to the beautiful Nambe Falls (open daily through October).

From here the High Road seems to enter a new world guided by the twisting desert-mountain path that weaves from one dusty town to another. Cordova and Truchas look abandoned and desolate but they hide fine-art galleries and studios.

In Truchas, Anna-Karin Hooglund paints out of a century-old adobe sanctuary that could itself be the subject of fine artwork. The long, narrow mud-colored building blends into the surroundings, but the brilliant blue-painted wooden door stops you in your tracks. Anna-Karin is happy to show her art and studio. Nearby, eRic Luplow paints in his modern studio, eL Gallery & Studio. (Yes, that's how he spells his name and gallery.) It's flooded with light and boasts a commanding view.

Low Road: Santa Fe—Taos
The Low Road is the more direct, highway-esque route between Taos and Santa Fe, and is perhaps best done when returning south. Highway 68 leaves Taos and crosses the wide-open high desert that flanks the east side of the Rio Grande River. You'll be driving along, gazing over the expanse, thinking how flat and uniform everything appears, when suddenly the giant ditch opens up with the Rio Grande River at the bottom and you understand the meaning of entrenched.

Take a detour onto Route 567 or continue south and eventually drop into the river canyon. The small town of Dixon is a few miles down Route 75 off 68. A little market and community center make up the town, but the few wineries in the area tempt a thirsty traveler. La Chiripada, or "Stroke of Luck," has been around since 1977, producing a variety of wines grown in the small Embudo Valley (lachiripada.com). Other Embudo wineries open for tastings are Vivac Winery (vivacwinery.com), opened in 1998 by two brothers who grew up in Dixon, and Black Mesa Winery (blackmesawinery.com), a little farther down the road toward Santa Fe.

If the heat's getting to you and you can't resist a float down the river, talk to the folks at Embudo Station—they rent river-running gear, and September's low water levels make for great rubber-kayak floating between the tall canyon walls, a perfect activity to precede a meal at the Embudo Station restaurant.