From Barking to Braking: Albuquerque will always be a draw for "Baddies"
Story by: Wyatt Miller
After traveling 2,191 miles over five days, our excitement peaked as we neared Albuquerque, New Mexico.
My dad and I decided to take a road trip all the way home to Los Angeles following my college graduation in Syracuse, New York. We visited the Pro Football Hall of Fame in Canton, Ohio, watched a childhood friend play for the Cubs in Chicago, met my dad’s college friends at their alma mater, the University of Iowa, and stopped for the best barbeque we’d ever had in Amarillo, Texas.
One might ask why, out of all those incredible places and unforgettable experiences, were we most excited to visit a relatively small city in New Mexico where we knew no one? The answer is simple: Breaking Bad.
Nothing engages the brains and hearts of a family of writers quite like the shared love of a compelling story. Breaking Bad is more than an action-filled drama with superb performances. It’s a tale about the power of love and desperation. It begs the questions: What would you be willing to do for your family? And at what point do the ends no longer justify the means?
My dad has always been there for me. He’s not perfect, nobody is. But his number one priority has always been to take care of the people he loves (without breaking any laws or severely crossing any ethical boundaries to do so). That added an extra layer of meaning to our self-guided tour of Breaking Bad landmarks.
With remnants of barbeque sauce still scattered across our faces and fingertips, we started to plan out our stops in Albuquerque. 308 Negra Arroyo Lane was at the top of the list. From falling plane debris to roof pizza to “Skyler, WHERE’S THE MONEY?”, the place was such an iconic forum for storytelling that we had to see it for ourselves.
Saul Goodman’s office was next up, along with the John B. Robert Dam, where characters would wait for their “Hoover MaxExtract PressurePro model 60.” And, although they weren’t in the show, we wanted to see the Walter White and Jesse Pinkman statues in the Albuquerque Convention Center for a unique photo opportunity I’ll explain later.
But we kept coming back to the White house. That’s where the magic happened. It’s where you hated and loved Walt the most. It’s where he played jump rope with the line between hero and villain, and where you realized he was neither, or maybe in some ways… both.
We even watched our favorite scenes from the show as we neared our destination. That’s when we started coming up with ideas: What if we owned the house?
After all, we are storytellers at heart, and so we dreamed up a scenario where we could make it a monument to the greatest television show ever made. We could almost recreate the thrill of watching unforgettable scenes for the first time by designing a unique fan experience.
It would start in the driveway, where we’d park the mobile meth lab RV. Instead of the world’s purest crystal, we’d create themed drinks with blue rock candy garnishes to serve to guests. Next to it, there would be cardboard cutouts (with face holes for photo ops) of Walt in his underwear and a green button-down next to Jesse in his oversized jeans and plaid shirt, as seen in the pilot.
The entire house would be returned to its former glory (with a pizza on the roof, obviously). We’d put monitors around the house so guests could watch their favorite moments from the show exactly where they took place.
A toy eyeball and fake money would float in the pool. And in the baby’s room, more cash and a fake gun would be placed in the vent and/or diaper box next to the crib.
A lifesize model of Hank would sit on the toilet, holding Walt Whitman’s “Leaves of Grass” as he realized Walt’s secret, and his life came crashing down around him.
And of course, a model of Walt would be placed in the crawl space, looking up into the house below a screen showing his hysterical tailspin.
We fired off so many ideas that we couldn’t keep track after a while. Just talking about all those impactful moments and how they made us feel was probably the most fun we had on the road trip.
When we got to the house the next day, we drove by a few times as the owner stared daggers at us, sitting on a folding chair in the driveway with her arms crossed. She didn’t look pleased at all to own this place we’d been dreaming of getting our hands on. Apparently, the house is now on the market, so if anyone wants to bankroll our idea, I promise we’re willing and creative collaborators.
We started to plan how we would operate our little household museum after we relieved her of the burden of owning that awesome relic of television history. We discussed everything from the parking situation to the hours of operation, plus occasional closures so families could stay in the house for a weekend full of Breaking Bad-themed activities and perks.
Then we rewatched some more of our favorite scenes from the house… again.
After all that plotting, we were hungry. As we drove the streets of Albuquerque looking for a restaurant, my dad pulled into a mini mall parking lot so we could search for nearby restaurants. I exited the car to stretch my legs, and my eye caught the glare of the tin awning that wrapped around the complex above every store. I turned to my dad.
“This is the lot where Saul worked,” I said.
After a photoshoot at the dam, we went back to “The Bourbon House.” The restaurant left no remnants of the old office. No reception desk with a verbally harassed assistant working the phones, no comically large desk, no air vent with duffel bags full of cash. Even the color scheme was completely different.
Before we finished asking the question, our waitress confirmed that they had rebuilt the space where Saul’s office used to be so it left no trace of the place. She said it with an exasperated expression on her face, like half of her work days were spent answering questions about Saul Goodman.
So, naturally, we started planning again. If we owned the restaurant, it would look like Saul’s office. You’d order shady, lawyer-themed food items at the reception desk from a woman with a “Francesca” name tag, and waiters would don colorful suits.
Bags of fake cash would be hidden around every corner and everything from calf massages to rounds on a putting green would be available for purchase. We were ecstatic.
Then came the Albuquerque Convention Center, which we purposely saved for last. When my parents dropped me off at college, they gave me pillows with photos of my childhood dogs. Naturally, we took them with us on the road trip so we could recreate the best gift I’ve ever given my dad: Barking Bad (not a typo)
What we didn’t know is that there was a college graduation taking place, and we had to pass hundreds of gown-draped graduates to get to the statues. With no shame whatsoever, we walked through the crowd with our life sized dog pillows under our arms.
Yes, we got thrown a lot of weird looks.
Here’s how we recreated the piece of art that hangs on our living room wall… in a couple different ways:
That was a wrap on our Breaking Bad tour, as we needed to meet another college friend of my dad’s in Flagstaff, Arizona that night. But even as we left Albuquerque, we continued planning our takeover of the White house and the restoration of Saul’s office into a themed restaurant.
We could incorporate other sites on a tour as well, like Hank and Marie’s place, Jesse’s houses, the laundromat, and of course, Los Pollos Hermanos. All we’d need was a tour bus, and our plans had already exceeded any reasonable budget, so why not add to it?
Unlike other stops on the road trip, we didn’t move on to the next location after we’d left, but kept on rehashing our favorite ideas and the Breaking Bad moments that accompany them.
Why? Because it made us happy.
We love Breaking Bad, as so many others do, because the show compels you to care about its characters in a way that’s somewhat indescribable. That’s what a show where every scene serves a purpose and every performance does the story justice can do. Not to mention, it brought prominence to a largely overlooked part of the country.
But something from our visits still confused us: The city of Albuquerque has leaned into the legacy of the show with commemorative statues, guided RV tours and more, but why did the owners of the film sites want to disassociate from the show? Why shy away from something that brought so much joy to so many people? Why pretend it no longer exists instead of celebrating it to create a special experience for fans?
We couldn’t understand that. How something makes you feel means so much more than what it does or looks like. So, even though our plans were a ridiculous fantasy, seeing those landmarks helped us relive the vast array of emotions we felt watching that show.
That’s the power of a great story like Breaking Bad. That’s the power of Albuquerque.
That was a wrap on our Breaking Bad tour, as we needed to meet another college friend of my dad’s in Flagstaff, Arizona that night. But even as we left Albuquerque, we continued planning our takeover of the White house and the restoration of Saul’s office into a themed restaurant.
We could incorporate other sites on a tour as well, like Hank and Marie’s place, Jesse’s houses, the laundromat, and of course, Los Pollos Hermanos. All we’d need was a tour bus, and our plans had already exceeded any reasonable budget, so why not add to it?
Unlike other stops on the road trip, we didn’t move on to the next location after we’d left, but kept on rehashing our favorite ideas and the Breaking Bad moments that accompany them.
Why? Because it made us happy.
We love Breaking Bad, as so many others do, because the show compels you to care about its characters in a way that’s somewhat indescribable. That’s what a show where every scene serves a purpose and every performance does the story justice can do. Not to mention, it brought prominence to a largely overlooked part of the country.
But something from our visits still confused us: The city of Albuquerque has leaned into the legacy of the show with commemorative statues, guided RV tours, The Breaking Bad Store, and more, but why did any of the owners of the film sites want to disassociate from the show? Why shy away from something that brought so much joy to so many people? Why pretend it no longer exists instead of celebrating it to create a special experience for fans?
We couldn’t understand that. How something makes you feel means so much more than what it does or looks like. So, even though our plans were a ridiculous fantasy, seeing those landmarks helped us relive the vast array of emotions we felt watching that show.
That’s the power of a great story like Breaking Bad. That’s the power of Albuquerque.
Wyatt Miller is a staff writer with The Los Angeles Rams. See more of his work at: therams.com
In the early days of the show, Mr. Marc P. Valdez started what many consider the the ultimate guide to Breaking Bad filming locations.
Get yours! Makes a great gift for the Baddies in your life.
