On The Road Again

Greetings from Albuquerque

Isn't this sad?  An empty porch, rocking chairs tucked away for the winter.  I winterized the house before once again following the wise dictum of Horace Greeley to
"Go West."  After a 1500 mile, 3-day dash across country, I am in Albuquerque, happily weaving and spinning with Cousin Betsy.  But let me bring you across country.....

Campground #1 was in east Memphis, TN.  I forced myself to drive no more than 500 miles in a day.  When driving west into the sunset, it's too easy for me to drive and drive and drive until I practically collapse, so I had campground reservations for both nights.  This campground could accommodate 300 RVs, and was clearly what I label as utilitarian.  Many of the RVs seem to be housing for workers and families, with at least a few through-drivers like me.  The campground hostess was a delightful woman, a bit older than me, who lives there full time with a sweet little white and tan long haired chihuahua; the woman makes and sells jewelry at the farmers market which is adjacent.  

Upon arrival, I took a walk to....

 The campground is part of a very large complex which includes the agricultural service and, at this time of year....a corn maze with live country music.  Quite enjoyable.  

When traveling, I prefer to reach the far side of a city, so as to avoid as much traffic as possible.  Such was not the case with Memphis.  I was on the east side so had to traverse the city during rush hour.....without coffee.  When I did finally find a place to stop, the coffee was so dreadful, I tossed it out.  Finally, I was saved by the sight of the Golden Arches; they have good coffee, so I could continue without committing road rage.  I was aiming for just west of Oklahoma City, which, of course, meant rush hour on that end, but it wasn't too bad, although in places the road surface was like the moon.

 

As I crossed the Mississippi and began to drift into Arkansas and toward my destination just west of Oklahoma City, I saw my first and only political signage on a vehicle.  Can you tell which vehicle is mine?  I exchanged pleasantries with the driver, who I do not think had seen my home made H.

That night's stay was a KOA, which tended toward utilitarian though I had a pleasant view from a pull through site.  The campground was right next to I40 so was a tad noisy, but I likened it to listening to waves crashing on a beach.  The next morning, I treated myself to a good breakfast and then continued to wend my way to Albuquerque.  At a gas station in a very urban area, I encountered

......a rooster.  I have no idea what it was doing there or where it came from.  It is these little things that keep me traveling.   As I made my way through Oklahoma, I saw hundreds of windmills, or wind turbines, as I guess they are now called.  There is something magical about them, whether they are arrayed on the open plains or stand solitary in town.

This one is in Tucumcari, on the old Route 66, lonely yet proud.  And soon I was in Albuquerque, with Betsy teaching me to weave on this little handmade loom.  She's letting me take it with me to Tonto, for which I am quite delighted, as it is probably more similar to the type of loom used by the Salado Indians than my more modern style.

I leave tomorrow for Tonto, so will post again next week.  Happy Traveling to All.

Route 66 and I-40

Remember those road trips back in the day?  Before the bland anonymity of interstate highways and cookie cutter hotels?

Back in the late 50s or early 60s, we took a family trip to Key West, Florida, to spend Christmas with our cousins:  Cary and Bill Howard, and their children Betsy and Susan, Woody not yet born.

We loaded up our 1950 Chevy, without air conditioning or radio, with a back seat that we could, and did,  get lost in, topping out with a speed of 65, though the roads most likely kept us to 50 or 55.  For this was before interstate highways, and US 1 would have been our route shot to Key West.  My strongest memory is of staying in a motel, my first, and it had a bed with "Magic Fingers."  For my very tired parents, my begging for a quarter to put in the bed and then wriggling around on its wonderful vibrations must have been road trip hell....but what a memory for a little girl.

Today, I speed down a smooth (usually) highway, so well-marked that I couldn't get lost if I drove it blind.... And driving interstates is driving blind:  We see nothing expect the white line, mesmerized by the nothingness that envelops us, as we listen to Sirius XM or tunes on our IPod.  We are hermetically sealed in a pod of glass and plastic and tin, against the world.

Yet, between Albuquerque and Flagstaff, I dipped again into that older world of our road trip to Key West, this time in Gallup, New Mexico, and a few smaller, decaying towns on Route 66 .

Gallup is perhaps more fortunate than other bypassed Route 66 towns, and it has done some sprucing up in the past 20 years, attempting to acknowledge its Native American neighbors and influence.

I think this pot is modeled on those from Acoma Pueblo; it stands about 5 feet tall, too large for me to steal.  Acoma Pueblo, the Sky City, is astonishing.  If you have a bucket list, add Acoma.

And a famous old hotel still opens it doors for customers, the El Rancho.  It is one of several hotels along Route 66 that touts its history of catering to the many  movie stars who shot films in the vast openness of the American West.

Unfortunately, with the exception of the cookie cutter motels where I-40 and Route 66 meet, much of Gallup looks like this:

Back in the day, it might have been quite nice.  Now it's deserted and boarded up.  Even though Route 66 is a mere shadow of its heyday, the streets are still wide....four lanes here in Gallup and in many other towns.  Town on the left, street in the middle, and the railroad on the right.  The railroad is about the only enterprise that brings steady income to Gallup and other Rte. 66 towns.  And I do love taking RR photos!

Burlington Northern and Santa Fe

Remember all those kitschy, ticky tacky places we begged and begged our parents to take us to, as we drove to Grandmother's or Aunt Vivian's?  Rock City....Live Alligators.....Tweetsie Railroad???  The road west has its own kitsch:

The blue dinosaur is especially attractive, I think.  Unfortunately, they did not seem to be associated with a commercial venture, so I was deprived of the opportunity to spend money.   However,  a
Gen -U-Wine tourist trap shortly presented itself:

Complete with:

The skeletal figure appears to be more Pueblo Indian than the Apache of Geronimo, but perhaps the artist was taking artistic license.  In fact, Geronimo seems to have confined his activities to what is now southern Arizona and southern New Mexico, so putting him in northern New Mexico may be more artistic license.   Or rather...commercial license, as the name Geronimo is familiar to most of us baby boomers.

Mickey D's does not call to me. Nor does Taco Bell or Arby's or Denny's or other eateries of their ilk.  Yet such are the sine qua non of the interstate.  Not only do they not call to me, they won't let me bring in the canines, even in carrying cases.  So BAH to their sterility and cardboard food.  Here's where I dined that day, with the canines in the seat across from mine:

Cool, comfortable, good food.  No complaints about the canines.  What more could I ask for, along the fabled Route 66..... Except a glimpse of the Corvette and those two dreamy guys.  Step back into youth.     https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zw1tiNGQ4wI

Tucumcari and Route 66

 Perhaps this photo exemplifies the lure of Tucumcari, Route 66, and RV travel for me.  I want to be Betty Boop....tee hee!  And this little RV is about the size for me and the canines.  Speaking of canines, here they are in the Sun and Sand Restaurant  (https://www.facebook.com/SunSandRestaurant), just down Rte. 66 from Betty's abode.

One per carrying case, otherwise they fight, really, really fight.  I didn't try to conceal the cases as I entered the Sun and Sand, not that I could have, but neither staff nor customers cared that I was probably violating health codes....unlike another place east of the Mississippi which had evicted me because some customer had complained.  The staff was sympathetic; they'd rather have evicted the complainer and let me stay.   New Mexico seems to be a bit more mellow than Mississippi......just saying.

While I would occasionally catch a glimpse of Marty Milner and George Maharis driving insouciantly in their dashing Corvette, it was just out of the corner of my eye, and I never did catch up with them.  I did see a number of places they might have stayed, including

this wonderful, now delapidated, closed old motel. I'd much rather stay here than in a cookie cooker Days Inn or Ramada.  Of course, I do stay in KOAs..... 

And as with folks everywhere, Tucumcarians are not reluctant to provide evidence of their political proclivities.

Not mine of course, but clever nonetheless.  Now I'm off to Albuquerque!