Go West Old Men: A Travel Memoir. Part 10

The Painted Desert

This is Part 10 of the story, follow these links to see Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

We got some kicks on Route 66.

In Just 17 Days, I Can Make You A Man

Dr. Frank. N. Furter, paraphrased.

I am not a camper. But I played one for two weeks.

We got up early with our plans to hit the canyon and set up camp before nightfall.

Those were the plans anyway.

At the Albuquerque Walmart we shopped for bottled water, Gatorade, and a few more staples for cooking at the campsite. Then we were back on the road heading west.

Throughout the planning process, we agreed that we would be flexible in terms of scheduling, and we’d be flexible in things we wanted to see. That way if we realized we were close to something worth checking out, we’d do it. That’s how we ended up in the Painted Desert. Traveling along Route 66, we agreed that we should stop.

In the 1540s Spanish explorer Francisco Vazquez de Coronado called the multi-hued expanse of pigmented rock “El Desierto Pintado.” Today, when you travel along 1-40 (which is also Route 66) you drive by or through an area where the mesas climb up in stratified layers pigmented by ping, orange, and purple mineral deposits. Much of the area to the north lies in the Navajo Nation where tribal regulations are in force.

Relic Road Brewing Company, Winslow, Arizona

We drove through to the highway on northern side making several scenic stops along the way. About mid-day we got back on the highway heading west.

We had a corner to stand on.

In the Town of Winslow, we had lunch at the Relic Road Brewing Company before shopping and taking the requisite picture in “Standin’ on the Corner” Park.

This corner inspired the Eagles’ song “Take it Easy.”

Well, I’m a standing on a corner in Winslow, Arizona
And such a fine sight to see
It’s a girl, my Lord, in a flatbed Ford
Slowin’ down to take a look at me

This was, I believe, the very first of our “we have to do this” stops along the way.

We left Winslow and headed toward the South Rim of the Grand Canyon where we had reservations to set up camp for the next three nights. We were looking forward to getting settled in, having our first camp meal, and finally seeing the canyon.

Editor’s Note: That’s not what happened.

A few miles out of Grand Canyon Village traffic came to a dead stop. We soon learned that recent rains had caused flash flooding and that the roads to the village were impassable.

Grand Canyon, straight ahead?

We had options. One was to wait and spend most of the night in the Jeep waiting for the roads to clear. After we’d been sitting for over an hour, word came up the line that authorities were projecting the road to be clear in about three hours.

‘Rare’ Grand Canyon flooding forces 100 to evacuate near park (The Washington Post)

A three hour tour. So to speak.

We punted.

Scott went online quickly and found that we were near Kaibab National Forest. Kaibab is a Paiute Indian word meaning “mountain lying down.”

Fortunately there were several available campsites. We quickly set up the tent and settled in for the night.

Well, we sort of settled. I was convinced that I would never be warm again.

I knew that temperatures would drop on the North Rim, but I was caught a bit off guard by how cold it was to the South.

Chalk it up to inexperience and to the fact that I live very close to sea level.

We weren’t there yet. But we were close.

Go West Old Men: A Travel Memoir. Part 9

Photo by Andy Staver on Unsplash

This is Part 9 of the story, follow these links to see Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

So. Much. Road.

Our third day was about getting there. Our goal was to get from Tulsa to Albuquerque by early evening because Santa had dinner plans with Santa, and also Santa.

We started with a leisurely time over coffee and breakfast with Tabb and Mary. Then we loaded up again and hit the road.

Our goal for the day. Albuquerque.

Early on, I got the lyric to Lady’s Maid from Titanic (the musical) stuck in my head.

There’s a place in America, called Albu-que-que…if you know you know.

But before New Mexico, there’s Texas. And even if you’re just going across the northern part of Texas, there’s a lot of Texas.

We saw more windmills than oil wells. I didn’t remember that from watching Dallas. Then again, we didn’t go through Dallas.

At a welcome center the guide gave us some promotional materials about Texas. Great, but we weren’t staying. I still have about a dozen or so “Don’t Mess with Texas” sticker that I’m not sure what I’m going to do with.

We didn’t make Amarillo by morning (if you know, you know) but we made it by lunch time.

By this point, we’re officially on Route 66 and getting some appropriate kicks.

Our cultural highlight of the day was a brief visit to the Cadillac Ranch.

Cadillac Ranch is a unique public art installation located along Route 66 near Amarillo. Created in 1974 by

Scott and Mike at The Cadillac Ranch, Amarillo, Texas

the art group Ant Farm, a group of art-hippies from San Francisco, it features ten Cadillac cars buried nose-first in the ground at an angle corresponding to that of the Great Pyramid of Giza. Over the years, visitors have been encouraged to leave their mark by spray painting and graffiti, turning the cars into colorful symbols of American pop culture and artistic expression.

When we crossed from Texas into New Mexico, the terrain and the skyline were familiar, even though it had been forty-three years since I spent my time on the reservation. I began thinking about my time near Shiprock, and about my friends Rick and Kathy. I saw them once in 1986 and we lost touch. They later left World Gospel Mission (WGM) and while I tried a few times, I could never connect with them.

Scott was driving, so I tried one more time and finally found a connection. They were both mentioned in an obituary for Rick’s father who had died some years back. In the obituary, I found that Rick had passed a few years prior to that. I still don’t know what happened. But it reminded me that we need to value, and maintain, our relationships.

Rick was a friend, a mentor, and a great guy to go hiking with in the Colorado Mountains. I’m sad that we didn’t get another chance to do that.

We made Albuquerque by late afternoon and checked into a hotel that, fortunately had an outdoor pool.

But we had a dinner date.

If you haven’t picked up on it, in November and December I’m a Santa Claus portrayal artist.

Way back during the year and a half of Two Weeks to Slow the Curve (™), I met dozens of other Santas online as we worked to save the magic of Christmas and developed plans for virtual visits throughout the 2020 Christmas season.

Santa Skip, Santa Ron, Santa Mike

One of those Santas I met was Santa Ron who lives just north of New Mexico. So we planned to meet him for dinner. We met at The Range for a great Mexican/Southwest dinner. Ron brought along Santa Skip and we had a great time telling Santa stories.

Scott enjoyed being in the presence of three magical creatures.

After dinner Scott and I entertained the prospect of a nighttime swim in the hotel pool.

Mother Nature had different plans and entertained us with some pretty spectacular sky fireworks.

But it was all good. We knew that we would reach the Canyon the next afternoon.

Or would we?

At least I finally made that left turn in Albuquerque.

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