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  The canteens were filled with a potato in one and corn cob in the other by way of corks--I took the gallon of oil I had bought and Tony and I both stopped for gas as we went through Taos and then we headed for the Rio Grande and Embudo, at the foot of the Canyon.
  Mabel said that the idea was that I should drive the Ford far enough in the rear to escape their dust and so that she would not hear our noise.  John had removed his muffler to facilitate climbing, therefore we made plenty of noise.  Mabel hates it--and so do I, but she claims that I don't mind it because I am inclined to be noisy and let doors slam.  My nerves were in good condition so I did not let it trouble me, nor the thick adobe dust which we could not escape except in rare instances.
  Mabel has developed a fear of fast driving, she claims--at any rate she must have Tony drive so slowly on the straight, open going that I was often obliged to put the Ford into low speed or stop repeatedly to allow a space to be gained between.
  She said that I could go ahead here where I knew the way as far as Espanola, but having had experience and knowing Mabel, how she would not stand being behind a moment.  I quite cheerfully followed and swallowed the dust and noise. For it was wonderful, real New Mexican weather and, after all, I was going on a new trip with Alfred which I had hoped to do once while I was there, and until that morning had seen no prospect of doing. I say I was quite cheerful with emphasis.  I was acclimated now and felt well and happy as we crossed the sage brush plains and then dove into the Canyon where we reached a spring at the bottom.  It was about noon and we watered ourselves and our cars and ate the Gerson Cusdorf (Taos General Store) sandwiches brought along with the addition of cress from the brook, I, at least, with plenty of relish.
  From there along the water's edge some 60 miles to Espanola, the fruitgrowing [[fruit growing]] settlement, where the canyon spreads cut wide and is entered by the Chama river at a right angle from the west, there is a bridge across the Rio Grande here which we crossed and headed up the Chama to Abiquiu.  This was new and different country with sand dunes looking like great ant hills and some peculiar rocks like ruined watch towers, etc.
  Abiquiu reached before sundown, was almost like some European mountain vilage high on a slope, looking across the gorge at a separated rock formation like the prow of a ship--very sighly and picturesque.  All Mexican inhabitants.
  Mabel had been here once before and knew the family who kept the postoffice [[post office]], from whom she engaged rooms for the night, since, she told me, we might better start the first night under cover and not unload the pack.
  Then she or Tony learned that we could get supper in another house, a very clean and good one.  Mabel praised the Mexican woman for it, through Tony as interpreter into Spanish.  Then, when Tony and I had got gas and oil at the general store and it was twilight Mabel suggests camping out' after all and asks my opinion.
  I said I was agreed--but my opinion would be that since she had engaged the rooms and it would soon be dark, we should sleep inside tonight. She agreed.