THAT first night off the train was spent in Grants, New Mexico at a Best Western Inn and Suites. We found the property so far above the ordinary that we decided to also return there at the end of the trip and reserved one of their executive suites for four nights.

By now we'd learned that Southwest Innkeepers, Inc. own several such properties, all uniquely different. There is so much to see and do in the Grants area that it presents an opportunity to settle in, relax in one location while exploring a diversity of sites.

In fact, we found it so interesting that we left very early the last morning and drove straight down to Albuquerque from there to turn in our vehicle and take a taxi to the 1.15 train.

Again, it was very much like their property in Farmington, New Mexico. The suite slept four with a bedroom and separate living-dining area where a sofa became a bed if desired. It had two televisions and large bathroom.

There was a compact wet bar area with sink, microwave and small under-counter refrigerator, all of which helped maintain my brother Jim's heart healthy diet. Again, two baskets of dishes and glassware were provided, picked up daily by staff to be washed and returned.

A full cooked breakfast served in a dining room decorated with western memorabilia was an added bonus. So was a tempting gift shop and locals so friendly we soon knew all sorts of people.

They ranged from a retired special forces adventurer with a lively military past and a uranium miner suffering serious health damage from that dangerous exposure, to a very personable night clerk so talented mechanically that he worked under special contract for the government repairing Hummers.

Because we'd become members of Best Western's frequent-stay programme during the trip, there was an additional discount over our first stay which had been $68.85 for a standard room. This time four nights in an executive suite came to a total of $279.

Of course, May is off-season, but it's very typical of travelling in the American West, which offers remarkable dollar value, along with marvellous scenery and colourful history.

What to see? You're surrounded by Indian country and pass through Pueblo country on the way up from Albuquerque, only 75 miles distant. Acoma Pueblo is one of them, a popular stop for those interested in visiting a tribal casino.

If you've time for only one major sightseeing stop, it should probably be the El Morro National Monument. It had been some years since we made a quick stop there. But this trip we covered it in depth and came away impressed with both its setting and sense of history.

In 1540 Conquistador Francisco Vasquez de Coronado crossed this area with 350 Spanish soldiers en route to Zuni Pueblo 30 miles to the west.

But not until 1583 was mention of it found in Diego Perez de Luxan's journal when he stopped there for water as part of the Espejo expedition.

But what's extraordinary is not so much who wrote about these massive cliffs with natural springs at their base, but those who carved their names and date of visit into the sheer walls.

and most famous is that left by Don Juan de Onate, the area's first governor in 1605. That was 15 years before Pilgrims arrived at Plymouth Rock and two years before the Virginia Company set foot in Jamestown.

Inscriptions scan the centuries from that date onwards. Spanish soldiers, priests, then later after 1849 came American cavalry, pioneer emigrants, adventurers and freighters.

There's definitely a special mood about this location ? it's isolated, otherwise parched except for its spring, with a sense of otherworldly remoteness. It's a destination that leaves a strong impression on one's memory.

that frontier flavour come alive is a well-marked trail around the base of the cliff and a self-guided booklet loaned to visitors by personable staff. You're at an elevation of 7,300 feet, so those not used to altitude will want to pace themselves.

Some of the earliest inscriptions in the 1600s are quite elaborate, remarkably preserved with detailed messages to explain reasons for their presence. Spanish had come to occupy the pueblos, the Indians strongly resisted.

Later came carvings of a military cavalry camel corps, members of emigrant wagon trains, an early Union Pacific Railroad survey team . . . all fascinating. There are also more ancient ones, petroglyphs dating back to Indian cliff-top ruins inhabited in the 13th and 14th centuries.

One wishes it was possible to be as enthusiastic about Zuni Pueblo. Not that many years ago, it was a justly famed and fascinating site. Something has certainly happened since which makes a visitor wonder if it's in a state of construction or destruction.

On previous trips we'd sought out its jewellery shops, noted for their quality inlay work. One can understand how reddish sand blown across the landscape leaves a coating after dust storms on what was once a very interesting village. Now it seemed in a state of near collapse, really depressing.

And we got caught in a real classic dust storm coming back across the field in our four-wheel drive and made it back via old Route 66, while everyone else sat in their vehicles and trucks until the storm subsided.

Rather than linger in Zuni, we drove on to El Malpais National Conservation Area, a rare and unique ecological formation covered with miles of volcanic formations.

It's as though one has landed on another planet. The entire area is a landscape of massive sandstone arches, ancient lava flows, pueblo ruins, petroglyphs and pioneer homesteads eroding in an unforgiving but scenic landscape.

Much of it is true wilderness. A picnic along the route just below one of the most dramatic sandstone arch formations was a delight.

Although we've always found local residents here friendly in the open, welcoming way for which the West is noted, the same was not true of some of the government employees we encountered.

The interesting small museum in the El Malpais region was staffed by a B.L.M. employee (although it's officially the Bureau of Land Management, we're not the only ones who substitute the word Mismanagement).

We nicknamed her "Miss, I don't know" because that was her surly response to all questions. On May 23 with not another visitor in sight, one wondered why she didn't read some of the books for sale there and educate herself? A smile would have caused her face to crack.

, the same was true when we stopped at Cibola National Forest Ranger Station in Grants. Mount Taylor, one of four very dramatic mountains sacred to Navajos, is reached from there.

The day we attempted to drive to its more than 10,000-foot summit, we encountered a group of Navajos at its base anxious to visit for religious reasons. But they were locked out by a closed gate. We'd heard there were small forest fires somewhere in the region, but none was visible.

So we stopped at the ranger station to make an inquiry. There we encountered a crusty, unpleasant woman whose look and lack of personality could inspire another ice age, a classic overpaid bureaucrat. She kept sorting through papers, never looking up to acknowledge our presence. You were an intrusion, even though your taxes paid her salary.

An elderly Navajo woman sat in a corner patiently waiting, also being ignored as though a non- person. She had come to seek special permission to go up the mountain, where it's traditional for Navajos to collect some soil from the four sacred corners of their reservation.

We definitely ran out of time before running out of area sightseeing possibilities. Same was true of shopping opportunities. There's a Grant's pawn-antique shop where we always discover something interesting. One year it was a vintage saddle to add to our tack room collection, another some unusual ranch artefacts.

are also two unique gift shops specialising in Indian artefacts in the area. Indian Trails All Tribes Museum has tried to preserve some of the area's history, and massive timbered Chaco Canyon Trading Company must have cost a fortune to build.

At both we succumbed to traditional Navajo dolls carved from cottonwood roots. The word "doll" is misleading . . . they are more cousin to a very subdued, low-key kachina, not commonly seen and can be very expensive. But those we discovered on this trip ranged from $45 to $150.

Naturally, we bought enough items of awkward size that we needed another oversized suitcase and found a very good one at a local shop for a modest $64. No matter how good-intentioned, shopping temptations always arise and the West is full of wonderful buys.

Departing Albuquerque, another Amtrak surprise awaited. I used to tease old friend John McLeod when he gave up being the ravel editor to work in Amtrak Public Relations, that there was only one major railroad flaw . . . bedroom windows should be washed more often.

On a train trip to Florida to join one of John's press trips, a porter approached my bedroom window during a stop, carrying a ladder along the platform. He then proceeded to very ceremoniously wash the window with great flourish and a beaming smile.

It had obviously all been pre-arranged and on arrival, John immediately greeted me with: "How did you like the view from your very clean window?"

and behold, on this trip when the Southwest Chief pulled into Albuquerque from California, two men arrived on the scene with window-washing equipment and proceeded to freshen everyone's view.

John, although you've gone on to that great train depot in the sky, your influence lingers on! We were told this is now routine at this stop.

We've already made plans for our next train trip. It will be on Amtrak's most popular route northwest, The Empire Builder. But the series will be interrupted briefly to write about how to handle current travel crises.

The trip back was as relaxing and enjoyable as the one out. This time we had a very pleasant female room steward.

The dining room maitre 'd had more ego than a headwaiter at the Ritz, but it would be unrealistic to expect 100 per cent moonlight and magnolias on any trip.

q Coping with travel crises