The best time to enter Las Cruces is on a Friday night like I did. The next morning when the sun arose atop those jagged peaks known as the Organ Mountains, I headed to Main Street for the Saturday Farmers Market. If you’re yearning for authenticity in the Southwest, all it takes is a 7-block stroll in Las Cruces on a Saturday morning to find it. It was the end of the green chile and tomato harvest and bins were filled with fresh produce from the Dona Ana Valley. Also found were pomegranates, Arkansas Black apples, jugs of horchata and limonata, locally farmed pecans and pistachios, and ristras (long strings) of red chiles hanging in front of many of the stalls. Yet, what really impressed me were the local artisans offering gemstone-laden jewelry, pottery, wooden crafts like adobe-style salt and pepper shaker holders, sculptures, watercolors of the local desert wildflowers, and photographs of the Organ Mountains splashed in red sunlight. All offered at a fraction of the cost one would find these wares 4 hours to the north in Santa Fe.
After purchasing my bounty of souvenirs, I headed to the large
Coas used bookstore on Main Street, then checked out more local art at a juried show at the free
Las Cruces Museum of Art. On the way back to my car, I spoke to a jeweler who moved to Las Cruces 11 years ago after retiring as a broker in Montreal. “330 days of sunshine, no humidity, no traffic, this place is a hidden gem,” he told me. Bathed in sunlight and sucking down my horchata on a perfect day with mid-80s temps, it was easy to understand the appeal.