A Cheap Vacation? You Can Bet on It.

Albuquerque is that rare city that can claim three ethnicities -- Anglo, Hispanic and Native American -- of equal standing. However, the Native American culture is so embroidered in the local culture, it deserves your full attention.

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New Mexico is home to 19 living pueblos, and although other Native American communities appear on local maps, they are either deserted or buried under crusted earth. The villages are scattered across the state, though a somewhat large concentration falls between Albuquerque and Santa Fe. The Indian Pueblo Cultural Center, which is run by the pueblos, provides a quick overview of the different reservations, displaying a slice of each pueblo's working and artistic life. The institution also stages weekend tribal dances that often celebrate the harvest, rains or hunting.

"Albuquerque is realizing that our relatives left these areas to us," said Wilton Niiha, a Zuni who leads the Doya Dance Group, which frequently performs at the cultural center. "We still have our traditions, our way of life and our religion. It's just modern, going with the flow."

Apparently, the flow involves the pull of the slot arm and a prayer.

In my quest to find a pueblo, I ended up at the Santa Ana Star Casino, about 30 minutes north of Albuquerque proper. The Indian Pueblo Cultural Center had prepared me for a tribe skilled at farming and ranching, as well as pottery, weaving, painting and basketmaking. Instead, I discovered a group savvy in the art of moneymaking.

The casino was like Vegas scrubbed clean: soda-toting waitresses, little leg and a lot of engrossed gamblers dressed for a day of yard work. I crossed the game floor to the membership desk, where I received $10 of playing cash after registering for a casino card. The catch: I could only activate it by putting money into the slot machine of my desire. Wisely, I chose the penny slot machine, which required only a buck to start.

I am the type of gambler whom high rollers mock: I will play only machines with cute characters. My slot featured animated polar bears and penguins; I figured, how much damage could a grinning bear do?

With my initial $1, I built the casino's $10 to $32, then dropped to $18, then promised to quit at $25. I lied. Somehow, I snagged 16 free spins and walked away with $50.15.

On the way out, so proud of my windfall, I stopped by the beverage stand and grabbed a free hot chocolate with whipped cream. I tipped the server two bucks -- I could afford it.

* * *

During my two-day stay, my wallet never noticeably lightened. My room at the Best Western, a short walk from Old Town, was less than $100 a night; my breakfast at the Golden Crown bakery didn't break a buck; and the burritos at the Frontier, a madhouse of a college hangout, cost $1.59. My museum expenditures never exceeded $5, nor did my bar tab. When I wanted to taste the state's famed green chilies, purportedly grown only in New Mexico, I popped into El Pinto, a restaurant that sets up a chili booth in its parking lot. Ask and the roasters will provide a free cup of chilies, medium or hot. You won't be labeled greedy if you ask for both.

With all these unintended savings, I was due for a splurge. So, I broke out the Jackson.

The Sandia Peak Tramway, considered the world's longest aerial tramway, nudges its way over 2.7 miles of craggy terrain. The ride to the 10,378-foot peak is tranquil, especially during sunset, when the city seems wrapped in pink cotton candy and the mountain edges soften with dark shadows. At the top, the High Finance restaurant serves lunch and dinner (still reasonable -- green chili stew for $6.95, sirloin for $19.95), but most visitors come for the 360-degree, eagle-aerie views.

Rudimentary telescopes are set up along the perimeter. Squeezing an eye against the metal tube, I squinted at the nearby Magdalena Mountains, the airport and Santa Fe, a dense cluster of golden lights.

When the wind started to whip up, I hopped on the next tram for the return ride down. As the car made its descent, we perched for a moment above a dusky valley that twinkled like polished pennies -- which in Albuquerque adds up to so much.