warning: this is one lengthy trip report. for those short on time, the reader's digest version follows:
three weeks. california-nevada-arizona-utah-colorado-new mexico-texas-new mexico-arizona-california. 5495 miles. no tickets, one warning, no serious mishaps. great times, lots of bad coffee. highlights: zion, carlsbad, austin. lowlights: albuquerque, ethnic food in utah, bats that won't fly. advice: GO, gas up a vehicle and motor around your country but make sure to stop for a meal every now and then. i had a fine time and _will_ do it again.
sunday, may 14
monday, may 15
pack up the car (_not_ forgetting anything this time), and brenda
and i grab some breakfast with becky who shows off her new car
and apartment. i take the first of many trip pictures and hit the
road. i make my first important sightseeing stop in baker, CA
to see the world's largest thermometer at bunboy (84 degrees)
and purchase a t-shirt to remember this significant sight. about
14 miles outside of vegas i am subjected to the first unpleasant
sight of the trip. a man is laying down, changing a tire on a pickup
truck by the side of the road. his hat is firmly in position but
he seems to have lost control of his pants - all drivers are
afforded a clear view of about 5 inches of butt crack. he is
*not* a svelte man. in st. george utah, i get my first honk from
a trucker. i eventually arrive in springdale, utah, check
into the hotel and clean up. ahhh, great water pressure! i drive
2 miles into zion. the park is mine, there is nobody else on the
road. a shuttle system is being implemented days after i leave,
this is the last week unrestricted private vehicles will be allowed
in the park (same goes for bryce canyon). i drive to the temple of
sinawawa and enjoy the vivid sunset alone, then leave the park and
drive to what i'm told is the best mexican restaurant in town to
consume a flavor-free dinner (ack, ptooey, i ordered a chicken burrito,
not sawdust!) and return to the hotel to relax. tomorrow i will get
red dust on my hiking boots, i need my rest.
tuesday, may 16
after studying the national park service brochure and a national
parks guide, i select the angels landing hiking trail for today's
adventure. the NPS map says it's strenuous but i figure these
things are written for the blue crew and parents pushing strollers,
how hard can it be? it's only five miles, but steep with a
1500 foot elevation change. not, it's heavily stressed, for those
with a fear of heights. camera, water, boots, i am ready to hike.
lots of switchbacks, but i'm in no hurry. beautiful red canyons,
but WINDY. two guys who look to be in pretty good shape wave me
ahead of them near the bottom of the trail. i figure
they'll pass me in pretty short order, but they never do. more
switchbacks, most notably a fairly aggressive set named walter's
wiggles. i round a canyon corner and stagger to keep my footing - it's
getting gustier. the last 1/2 mile of this hike is supposed to be
pretty steep, with chains to hold onto. i come across some chains
and it's now more of a rock scramble than a hike, i figure i'm
almost there. a park ranger on his way down stops to talk with me.
apparently there's a fire at the grand canyon and the north
rim is closed. i ask if i'm near the end of the chains and he
laughs at me, says there are lots of chains in my future. hmmmmn.
i hike on and think i've reached the top, there are about a dozen
people clustered around. one of the men from the group of four in
front of me suddenly yells "i don't have anything to prove!"
and turns around. this is NOT the top, it's the last flat saddle
before the oft-mentioned last 1/2 mile. some of us stand around and
eventually figure out that the trail does indeed go waaaaay up there
(THERE?!) where we can barely make out a figure, whooping and
waving at us (and i think mooning us as well, but i can't be sure).
we take some pictures, and most people opt to turn back. i could
very easily be talked out of this, BUT i see that the two guys who
never passed me on the trail decide to press on, and dammit, they
never passed me and if they can do it, i can. up i go! they turn
back after two sets of chains. the trail is about 12-18 inches wide
in many parts, and it's no longer much like hiking on a trail. there's
a sheer drop to the valley floor from the outside parts, and
pretty steep, large rocks. i have to pull myself up on the chains,
who knows how i'll get down on legs this size? i drop my lens cap
but am not about to let go of the chain to retrieve it - lens caps
are cheap. i stop to talk with several males on the way up, all
tell me that their wives/girlfriends refused to go past the saddle
and i start to feel very macho. or very stupid - what's the
difference at this point? a 20-something canuck overtakes me and
tells me he is attempting to conquer his fear of heights. on his
way down he tells me it didn't work, and it's WAY scarier on the
downhill trip. finally, i make it to the top!
angels landing is about 10-12 feet wide, and was so named because
an early explorer spotted it from a higher point and declared that
only an angel could land there. it's so gusty at the top i'm
afraid to stand upright, so i scuttle around with the others while
we enjoy the spectacular view from both sides, congratulate ourselves
and prepare for the return trip. the guy i sit next to sums the
climb up nicely: "this is the most dangerous national park i've
ever been to".
as i gear up to leave the top someone notices my naked lens and
returns my lens cap. nice people you meet up there! i snap some
pictures and begin the climb down. i do NOT plunge to the valley
floor, all is well. i meet up with a couple from south dakota at
the saddle and we walk the rest of the way down together. he's a
NPS firefighter and tells me that he would have liked to climb all
the way, but his wife is too clumsy and he would be worried about her.
the rest of the way down i entertain myself by telling other people
that she wanted to go up, but he chickened out and wouldn't go. she
seems to enjoy this almost as much as i do. she is the first of
many people to ask me "aren't you scared to travel alone?" but like
the rest, is unable to identify just what it is i should be scared OF.
that's enough hiking excitement for now. i'll be sore tomorrow,
and probably the next day. i watch the zion IMAX movie and get some
chinese take-out food that's so bad that i have to throw
it away and go out for another dinner. i AM the filthiest woman
alive, complete with freakish amounts of canyon dust in my ears.
the wind has covered me in fine red dust, which adheres nicely
to sunscreen.
wednesday, may 17
i awaken and assess my limbs. hey, they don't feel too bad.
then i stand up. ow. OW! ok, no hiking today. i shower,
extracting more red dust from my body, ready the car and begin
the quest for caffeine. there's a coffee shop across the street
called the Mean Bean - their logo is a coffee bean with a mustache
wearing an ammo belt and boots, brandishing two pistols. i stop
for decent coffee and a souvenir t-shirt, then drive to the zion
visitor's center to learn that the grand canyon north rim is still
closed. fire seems to be the theme of this vacation. i decide
to move on to bryce canyon, so i drive highway 9 through the park
and enjoy the higher views. this road was considered an engineering
marvel of its time with a 1.1 mile long tunnel blasted through
the rock. it's dark, fun and a little bit spooky as i am the ONLY
one in the tunnel the entire way. i stop at the other side of the
tunnel to do the 1 mile hike to the zion canyon overlook, ignoring
the painful objections from my legs. the landscape is well worth it and
i con someone into taking a picture of me at the overlook. on the
way back i strike up a conversation with a very sweet german woman who works
for the national park service in bryce canyon, and she tries to recruit
me for the NPS. she looks to be about 60 and has the most beautiful
skin i've ever seen. offering me some bryce lodging tips, she tells
me the grand canyon probably won't be open for several more days
we talk about zion and the angels landing trail. she was also on it
yesterday but turned back before the saddle due to the winds. i
describe the views from the top and she declares that if i could do that
trail, i can do anything. my legs, stomach and arms are aching, but
she is absolutely right. i CAN do anything! we say goodbye and i
walk back to the car for the drive to bryce canyon.
near the junction of 89 and 12, i drive through red canyon. i must
respectfully disagree with my pal crazy charles - THIS is where
wile e coyote and the roadrunner live. _not_ monument valley. i keep
one eye on the road and another on the sky for dropping anvils.
approaching bryce canyon i tune my stereo into the park info
station and am firmly warned by the national park service: "Do
not attempt to befriend the wildlife". i drive closer to bryce
and stop at a place called ruby's for a burger. the tour guides
call it 'unrelentingly western' and they are NOT kidding. i can
only imagine this is something like what the chuckwagon corral at
eurodisney must be like. there's an _enormous_ shopping complex
with crappity crap and indian blankets and rocks and knickknacks.
it's a horrible cheeseball place and inexplicably overrun by
french tourists but the burger is good (they have their own cattle
ranch). my waiter smirks at me the entire time and i wonder what
he knows. i am getting used to the scene at the front of the
restaurant by this time - every time i go out to eat, i am asked
"how many?" and when i answer "one", the response is invariably
"JUST ONE?!?". uh, yeah. for some reason this seems to stump utah
restaurant staff.
fed, i drive into bryce. every time i get into or out of my car
i make old man noises. i can walk uphill, but down is a real
problem, so i stick to the scenic overlooks. the clouds are
gathering, rain is predicted. at the inspiration point overlook
i am treated to one of the most impressive erosion spectacles in
the national park system as it starts to rain and i watch a
french tourist's double combover dissolve as rain wets it.
i watch a beautiful italian woman boss her american boyfriend around.
she points and says "down" and he sits for pictures. i try to
compliment her on how well trained he is. she doesn't get it, but
he blushes and tries to explain to her. as i return to the car it
the rain gets harder, then turns to hail. it continues to rain
hard so i go to the lodge, order a cup of coffee and write out
some postcards. there will be no sunset to view tonight so i go
back to the hotel, make some calls and relax.
bryce is beautiful, but it seems more brittle and remote than zion,
a work of art to be looked at but not touched. maybe that's my
aching legs talking. hiking at bryce will be difficult as the
canyon rim is at 9000 feet or so, and all trails descend into the
canyon so the return trip will be much harder, and at elevation.
i am not about to attempt this. it's lovely to look at, but i don't
really want to play with it just now. besides, it's raining and i
might melt. i return to the hotel for some dinner. the restaurant
is generously decorated with mounted animal heads and saw blades.
i wonder about the connection. the food is again notably flavor-free,
are there no spices in utah? every time i request tabasco sauce
the servers warn me that it's VERY hot and i need to be careful with
it. i consider calling weezie and telling her how tasty cisco chow
seems in retrospect.
thursday, may 18
brrrr! it's COLD, there's frost on the ground this morning.
i check out and drive into the park to have some breakfast and plot
my next destination. grand canyon still closed, i am still hurting
from the hike, but i figure today will be the worst of it. my thighs a
re actually sore to the touch. i decide to drive highway 12, said to
be one of the most scenic drives in the lower 48. breakfast at the
bryce canyon lodge, where free range chipmunks scamper around in the
dining room begging scraps from diners and annoying the waitstaff.
hiway 12 is slow, but every bit as scenic as advertised. i cruise
along and enjoy the views for a very long time, until i realize i
am trapped in the dixie national forest, where i will run out of gas
and die. i fear i've taken my first wrong turn, and there is nothing
but forest, forest, forest so far as i can tell. no turnouts for map
checking so i press on. turns out i didn't take a wrong turn and did
not run out of gas and die, hooray. i arrive in torrey at the end of
scenic byway 12, and make the rest of the drive to moab. i check into
my most expensive hotel yet ($80/night for a super 8), and after a
brief internal struggle, request a second floor room. negotiating
the stairs will be painful but i am tired of listening to people
stomp around overhead. moab is cool, but lousy with mountain bikers.
headed up the main drag, i select the moab brewery for dinner (yes,
JUST one, thank you) an am awarded with my first tasty food of the
trip, which is prepared with actual garlic! an order of buffalo wings
is a baker's dozen, and the beer is tasty - i stuff myself but still
leave food on the plate, then wander around town for a bit. everyone
here has calves of steel, and the women seem to be especially attractive.
my sister would love it and i call to tell her so.
my friend dean told me i MUST take the tour of monument valley, so i
decide to do that tomorrow. to bed...
friday, may 19
it takes longer than anticipated to get to monument valley as
there's lots of road construction and i have to wait for a few
pilot vehicles. 150 miles later, i arrive and park. i was told
to ask for 'injun joe' but i'm doubtful and there is no injun joe
tour booth so i approach the main tour shack. since i'm alone, i
will have to hire an entire jeep at $60-90. i decide to haunt the
parking lot and try find someone to share the tour costs with. this
is easier said than done - everyone i approach has already done the
tour, is doing it in their own vehicle, seems afraid of me or
already has a full tour vehicle. it takes about an hour of roaming
the lot and approaching strangers but finally i find a nice brit
couple, siobhan and robin from bath, who agree
to share the costs with me. we waffle about doing the full
2-1/2 hour tour but are reeled in when a discount is dangled. $25
later we set out with herbert, our navajo guide. there are lots
of other vehicles on the main road, but once we turn off onto the
full tour route we have the valley to ourselves. it's breathtaking
and we recognize a number of the rock formations from movies and
commercials. i am certain that it's impossible to take a bad
picture of this place, but curse myself again for leaving my
polarizing filter at home. this is marlboro man, john wayne, old
western country and it's just gorgeous. i can't say more, please
just go there and see it. herbert, our navajo guide, tells
us stories and points out rock formations. as he explains when
we get to submarine rock, "the white man named the rocks. my
people didn't know what a submarine was". as we ride around
between stops robin asks me lots of questions i can't answer,
and i feel like a stupid american. we finish our tour, thank and
tip herbert our navajo guide, and i arrive back in moab
just in time for dinner.
there's an urgent message at the hotel to call linda - she has
a message from home. a very dear friend's mother is having
serious health problems and is in intensive care. i consider
aborting the trip, but am told that's not necessary at this
point, so i make some care calls, worry for a bit, and decide to
proceed to colorado in the morning as planned.
saturday, may 20
i am still _extremely_ sore, this is amazing. i do some
sightseeing at arches, and begin the drive to loveland, co.
about 30 miles outside of grand junction, i MUST pee. there
are no services and i cannot wait. freshette to the rescue!
i pull off in fruita and employ the sani-fem to great relief.
of course, there is an abundance of gas stations at the
next exit. i don't need them, i am a travelling woman who
can pee standing up!
my poor little honda has a REALLY hard time doing the speed limit
over vail pass at 11,000 feet. just past the summit, outside of
frisco, i am snowed on. hours later i arrive at my friend
linda's house. i worked for and with linda for years at sun
and haven't seen her in several years. it's wonderful to see
her again - she lives in a very busy dome house with her
daughter and son-in-law, two granddaughters and assorted
livestock (horse, goats, sheep, chickens, dog and cats).
sunday-monday may 21-22
linda and i spend a lot of time catching up. we had some
vague plans to go to estes park, but it's relaxing to just
hang around the house and run around locally. i drag linda's
family out to johnson's corners truck stop, which i'm told
is world famous. linda seems doubtful that i really want to
eat at a truck stop, but i am the guest and she indulges my
whimsy. the food is actually pretty good, and the cinnamon
rolls are indeed world-class. i am intrigued by the friday
night special, tater-crusted hokie fish platter, but it's not
friday so it's unavailable. we hang out, relax at linda's
and visit some local sights for the next few days while 10 month
old mariya follows my every move.
i drive into ft collins to visit my grandmother, and have
dinner with my aunt and uncle. there are no big family scandals
to speak of. i return to linda's and begin to ready myself and
my things for departure. at about 11 pm there is a minor
livestock crisis. nugget, one of the chickens, has cleverly
managed to escape through an open gate. i join linda outside
with a flashlight for a late-night chicken hunt as we try to
locate the missing nugget. i am a city girl, not trained
in such matters, and every rock looks like a wayward chicken
to me. finally we give up and go to bed nuggetless.
tuesday, may 23
the missing nugget has returned, to linda's great relief. i
say my goodbyes and thanks and depart loveland, bound for
new mexico. the los alamos fire appears to be partially
contained now and shouldn't cause any travel problems for me.
driving through colorado is uneventful, and as i pass into
new mexico i hook up with some fellow speeders on the freeway.
we are cruising along at about 100 mph indicated when the truck
in front of me has a blowout. it could have been much more
exciting - the only damage was to his tire (and very probably
his rim as well). i stop, he's okay, has a full size spare,
so i travel on and decide to spend the night in historic
las vegas, new mexico. i book into the plaza hotel, built in
1882 and dubbed the belle of the southwest. cool little
western town and plaza. i opt for the greek special at the
hotel restaurant because the first course is flaming feta
cheese and i am a sucker for food that's aflame, but there
are ignition problems. there's much discussion of the issue
in the dining room and the chef finally decides
the problem is that the bar gave her 80 proof brandy instead
of more combustible 86 proof. she steadfastly ignores the
armenian gentleman who keeps shouting at her to use ouzo instead.
while i eat my non-flaming food i get to enjoy the plaza
pedestrian traffic while i eat. there is a prom or some other
sort of youthful formal event going on, and i watch the fashion
parade. most of the dresses seem to be two sizes too small and
they are almost all lavender. each couple is trailed and being
bossed around by at least one camera-toting parental type person.
wednesday, may 24
i stop at the spic and span diner for a red chili and egg
breakfast. yum! they DO have spices in new mexico.
on the way to carlsbad i stop at the UFO science and research
institute in roswell, NM. i am road-stupid and open the back
of my camera with a live roll in it. DUH. i try to have a four
dollar postcard made picturing me with some aliens, but the
photo booth apparently only takes alien bills, mine are all
rejected.
charles is correct, new mexico DOES smell like cow poo. i am
encountering hot weather for the first time on the trip - the
road in front of me is one solid heat monkey. it is a sunny
109 degrees when i arrive in carlsbad. it doesn't feel as
miserable as it sounds, though - it's a DRY heat :^)
a quarter of a million mexican freetail bats live in carlsbad
caverns, and they all depart at sundown to seek food. park
rangers give a nightly bat lecture at an amphitheater at the
cavern entrance where you can sit and watch the bat flight.
i drive up to the park for this but the bats aren't
very cooperative. they come out in puffs of a hundred or so
every few minutes, teasing us. the rangers seem disappointed,
but it's still kind of neat. during the bat lecture i learn
that one of the largest urban bat colonies in the US lives under
the congress ave bridge in austin, 3-5 times as many bats as
carlsbad, so if i really want to see huge amounts of bats fly,
i will have another chance. back to the hotel, i eat at the
hotel restaurant, eavesdropping on a uniformed group of veterans
of foreign wars at the next table. i am expecting war tales
but instead i overhear a long sentimental discussion about how they
don't feel they gave enough love and affection to their children,
and are seeing the difference it makes with their grandchildren
and wish they'd spent more time with their own kids while they
were growing up.
i watch the news and find out there is now a fire near historic
las vegas, new mexico. at least fire is now behind rather than
ahead of me.
thursday, may 25
after checking out of the hotel i grab some breakfast and stop at
the wal-mart supercenter for some sundries on my way out. we only
have regular old joe-bob wal-marts at home, none of these fancy
supercenters with food sections, and i am impressed to find a lobster
tank (wal-mart price on live lobster is $7.99/lb). i drive up to
the caverns, flash my national parks pass and take the tour. it's
a cool 58 degrees underground, and the caverns are gorgeously lit. i
manage to position myself between groups of people so it feels
like i have the place to myself. magic! i bought a CD audio guide
but it doesn't work for most of the tour. i enjoy the silence and
make up my own stories about the rock formations. the caverns
are REALLY beautiful and well worth a visit. please go. after a
few hours i reach the underground rest area, send some postcards from
80 stories below and make some 'bowels of the earth' calls before
taking the elevator up to the hot surface of the earth and
pointing myself at texas.
i hoot and holler as i cross the texas border and head for 1-10. somewhere
between pecos and fort stockton, the texas department of public
safety takes note of my presence and flags me down to discuss their
concern over my rate of travel. the valentine sounds the alert, but
instant-on radar is used and i am the only car around. officer woods
approaches to welcome me to texas and request the customary paperwork.
my purse is in the trunk, so i get out and rummage around to find my
license. i'm surprised there's no lecture, and glad i was only doing
15 over the limit. officer woods returns and announces he's going to
issue me a warning (which he writes up for 70+ mph) rather than a ticket.
i'm SHOCKED, never in my adult life have i not gotten a ticket after
being pulled over. since i WAS doing 85, i wonder if perhaps radar
didn't get a good reading on me. thanking officer woods for his concern
about my safety, i resume driving at the speed limit (for awhile). I-10
is dreary, gusty, and long. i plan to stop halfwayish to austin, but
don't see a place that looks tolerable so i drive on, eventually deciding
i may as well go all the way to austin. i call to make sure the hotel
can accomodate me, then drive into austin, check in about 9 pm and
page crazy charles to let him know i am in town ahead of schedule.
he offers to come over to the hotel, but he has to work early the next
day, and i am in desperate need of a shower so we decide to meet when
he gets off work the next day. after ten minutes more discussion, we
change our minds and he comes over to the hotel while i unload the car
and take a quick shower. cleverly disguising himself as housekeeping,
charles arrives with a warm welcome - it's wonderful to see him and we
open a bottle of wine while we catch up.
friday, may 26
charles has to work today and my clothes are funky so i go in search
of a laundromat. i find one in a rather sketchy neighborhood, but
clean clothes ARE a must. austin is humid enough that i wonder
whether i should bother drying the clothes. i run some other
errands then meet charles at the hotel when he gets off work and
we go out for some very good tex-mex food (and rather bad margaritas).
we drive around downtown and i tell him about my bat disappointment
at carlsbad so we score a table at a restaurant patio with a river
view to watch the bats fly from the congress ave bridge. we wait and
wait, it gets dark but these bats are also big teases and they do not
fly. i give up on bats for the duration of the trip.
saturday, may 27
i'm in texas, i must buy boots! this should be a simple matter
but things are different in texas when it comes to footwear.
they say things are bigger in texas, and that includes boot
sizing - i seem to have small feet here and wear a size and a
half smaller than at home. i am tempted to try on jeans.
charles takes me to various boot shops and i endlessly try on
boots. charles is impressively patient and helpful, removing
boot after boot from my feet. i finally buy not one but TWO
pairs - one pair of women's boots, black with white flame
stitching, and one pair of KIDS boots in size 5, with red
stitching and white texas longhorns on them. i am thrilled,
i _LOVE_ my new boots. the women's westernwear is something
to behold (silver lame' jeans, anyone?). charles and
jim are a collective bad influence on me - i barely resist
buying a pair of black dan post boots with ponyskin lowers
in a black and white cow pattern. boot town in round rock
is my final store. i never want to try on another pair of boots
as long as i live. we stop at the university bookstore
to buy some white longhorn cutout stickers (very decorative!)
so i can customize my car (and life) to match my new boots.
we search around for jackalope merchandise, but the only
thing we can find is a mounted jackalope head ($90) and
some postcards. all that shopping has us worn out, and
a nap follows. it is no secret that i'm a coffee snob, and
after i declare the coffee at texpresso not very good, charles
makes it his mission to find acceptable coffee. the plan for
tonight is a light dinner (yum, fish tacos!), then riding from
coffee shop to coffee shop on charles's bandit until coffee is
found that i love. getting on the back of the bike is
kind of a big deal. i've only ever ridden pillion with two
riders, and i have had The Talk with charles already about how
unusual this is, and how carefully i expect him to ride with me
on the back. i brought my helmet and gloves, and borrow a
jacket from charles which makes me look silly. we ride to
dinner and while we're in the restaurant the skies open up.
yahoo, thunder and lightning! charles asks me what i want to
do, i tell him to ride on and we go ahead with the plan. the
first coffeehouse, mojo's, is a success - i approve of the coffee.
we visit another downtown but there's a long line neither of us
want to wait in. we are gifted with some austin pride lollipops,
i think because of the large pink triangle sticker on the back
of my helmet. we visit another coffee joint out by the lake where
charles somehow manages to lock himself in the bathroom. we
leave before the management discovers how he sprung himself.
the rain stops, we return to the hotel. charles rides
perfectly politely, despite a small drag racing incident.
i am impressed by his restraint.
sunday, may 28
we take a leisurely bike ride out to the hill country for breakfast.
charles is again well mannered, ridingwise, but the intended
breakfast destination is closed so charles torments me by taking
me some place called bee caves (yikes). good food, only one bee
spotted, good ride back. charles needs to tend to some chores
so we part company for awhile and i do some runnning around alone.
we decide to go have a snack at chuy's (and admire the elvis shrine),
come back and get changed and go see junior brown at the oyster
festival. after chuy's we drive by the oyster festival site and
it does not look terribly festive or exciting, and we're both
sluggish after a snack platter and margarita or two. charles
convinces me that i MUST jump up and down on the bed wearing my
new cowboy boots - it's the done thing.
monday, may 29
today is my last day in austin. i tell charles i want to shoot
something, take him to dinner to thank him for his hospitality
and see some texas big hair. i have carried an unwrinkled dress
this far, and i'll be damned if i'm leaving this town without
wearing it. we set out for charles's house to pick up his .38
for me to shoot. he needs to take the atomic fireball (his
ysr50 race bike) to his storage unit. i meet his roommates.
fluffy (i think whitney is her name) starts to charge into the
garage in her underwear, but stops dead when she sees me. her
jaw clicks shut, then flops back open as she stands silently gaping.
i consider helping her out by introducing myself, but i'm
curious to see what she'll do, so i just sit and look at her.
eventually she yammers something about charles waking her up
and retreats back into the house - i never see her again.
before loading up the atomic fireball charles fires it up and
lets me ride it around the block. whee! it's two handfuls
of fun, AND my heels reach the ground. this is, after all, a
three foot high motorcycle. before leaving i meet doug, the
other roommate, who looks slightly less stunned. it must be
the braids confounding them. we leave for the storage unit,
swap stuff and head for the gun range. uh-oh. it's a holiday,
it's closed. i tell charles i won't be brokenhearted if i
don't get to shoot, but he won't hear of it. we pull off
onto a dirt road where people have been doing some illegal
dumping, i put my earplugs in and get ready to shoot a wild
texas coffee cup. charles tells me to be ready to jump back
into the truck if we hear sirens. i'm thinking to myself that
a huge white 70s suburban painted with black cow spots and equipped
with a horn that says "mooooo" is a less than stealthy getaway
vehicle, but it's his gun, his truck, his town and his cow spots,
so i shut up and start firing. and missing. those texas coffee
cups have a real strong survival instinct. finally he tells
me it's my last shot, so i get serious and hit it, then hand
him the gun, which he fires one more time (and misses. i think
i only wounded that cup, it was clearly still moving). i'm not
much of a gun person, but that was a very friendly gun - hardly
any kick to it, not at all scary to shoot. wait, did i just say
'friendly gun'? pardon me. it must be time for me to leave texas.
charles collects some clothes to change into and we return
to the hotel to get ready for steak and big hair. we work
out my escape route from texas, decide on the best pair of
boots for me to wear and prepare to go out. although i don't love
steak, i feel strangely compelled to have one since i'm in texas.
the prime rib i order changes the way i feel about steak altogether.
as charles comments, that animal did *not* die in vain. maybe i
do love steak. i certainly loved THAT steak. after dinner we
drive to the big hair nightclub but opt not to enter after we survey
the parking lot and notice the lack of vehicles parked
there. back to the hotel and charles attempts to show me what i
missed at the nightclub, dancing-wise while i step all over
his toes and blame it all on my purse (which is a very handy
escapegoat). charles needs to work in the morning and i want to
get an early morning start so we say our goodbyes.
note: my time in austin is sort of a blur. i am getting worse
about recording trip details despite my handy tape recorder.
somewhere in there, we went to the capitol, ate some delicious
bbq at a place with flying pigs on the sign, saw a movie with joe
the red-headed menace, shopped for prayer candles, charles stood
on his head and other stuff i can't remember at the moment. i
fear that i've been terribly dull company for charles - my brain
went into vacation suspension and i was capable of little more than
the occasional grunt while in texas. i wish i'd taken more pictures
in austin, of me riding the atomic fireball without safety gear,
shooting, and of me and charles all dusted off.
tuesday, may 30
my first bad day of the trip. i leave austin without eating
in the morning - i have snacks in the car and figure i'll grab
something on the road. i am not, however, known for my ability
to stop once i get driving. of course i need to stop occasionally
for gas and to use the bathroom, but every time i do, none of the
eating options looks terribly appealing, and i want to make good
time. drivedrivedrive, abilene, sweetwater, lubbock, muleshoe, ft.
sumner, oops. suddenly it's 11 hours and 700+ miles later - i am
driving into albuquerque and i have made a terrible mistake in not
eating anyreal food along the way. my body and mind are objecting
and i take it out on albuquerque. there's lots of construction going
on and my peerless navigational abilities take me to a seedy part of
town where i cannot locate a satisfactory hotel. a string of
obscenities targetted at albuquerque are recorded on my trip
recorder at this point. it's nobody's fault but my own, but
i hate this town AND everyone in it at the moment. in desperation
i visit a mcdonald's to get some food but it is so vile
i throw it away after one bite. i get back on the freeway to
find a roadside motel, check in and make whiny calls to friends
about how much i hate this town, then go to bed without eating.
what a stupid, STUPID day. mental note: do NOT do THAT again.
wednesday, may 31
when i wake up my hands are shaking so badly it's difficult to
insert my contact lenses. i find some coffee (so nasty i throw it
away and gobble excedrin instead) and set out for the frontier
restaurant (sweet rolls!) to get some food. ahh, much better. i
am a new woman. i still hate albuquerque, but not quite as violently
and i have now forgiven the people. for a refreshing change, i observe
(sort of) the speed limit all the way to holbrook, arizona where
i am scheduled to sleep in a concrete wigwam motel on old route 66.
in the 40's when rt 66 was THE main american road, there were seven
wigwam villages. three are still operational and this is the most famous.
i check into wigwam #9 at the bargain rate of $32/night (a swell deal,
i think, for a vanishing bit of americana) for a nonsmoking wigwam.
the wigwams are decorated with the original (restored) hickory and
cane furniture and have sort of a summer camp feel to them. again i
must do laundry and as i am carrying my bag of dirty clothes to the
car, john lewis (he and his sister eleanor run the place. chester
lewis, his father, built it and the kids grew up there and now run
it as a labor of love) introduces himself and says i can do my
laundry at the apartment building behind the wigwam motel and
even offers to put out some laundry detergent and such so i don't
have to provide my own. it takes some time since there's only one
washer and dryer, but i'm in no hurry so i sit down, read a book
and talk with john about the world's fascination with route 66 and
wigwam motels in general.
i take my newfound love for steak down the street to the butterfield
stage company, order prime rib and discover that i still do not
love all steak BUT i do get to sit in a booth decorated with "tools
of the gunfighter's trade" engravings.
despite the fact that there are railroad tracks right behind my
wigwam which generate quite a lot of noise and vibration, i sleep
well and am thoroughly delighted with the entire wigwam experience.
i turn on the news in the morning and am not at all surprised to
learn that flagstaff, which i will be driving through later that
day, is afire.
thursday, friday june 1-2
i make some delicious peet's coffee with the travel coffeemaker
my sister lent me, shove my junk carelessly in the car, take several
parting wigwam photos and head west. the fire in flagstaff
causes me no problems and i drive to sedona (which is beautiful)
to meet my aunt shirley, who i have not seen since i was a toddler.
she does not SEEM crazy, but you never can tell with family.
we have lunch and i continue driving south towards phoenix
to surprise, where my mother lives. i arrive, we spend some
time catching up and she shows me her new house. we meet
some neighbors and it's early to bed. the next day we do a
little cruising around, enjoying the many fine features of
surprise and her community, and spend some time walking through
model homes. friday morning i get a call that my friend's mother
is in critical condition and i am worried and distracted. i'll
leave early saturday morning and motor straight through from
phoenix to get home as soon as possible.
saturday, june 3
i get up painfully early, suck down some much needed coffee,
gas up and begin the long trip home. why is it the roads are
*so* much longer when driving home? 1-5 from los angeles is the
most dreadful road in the world and sports that big cow smell
from harris ranch, but it _is_ fast. there are lots of radar
alerts but the valentine does its job and i complete the 700+
mile route without tickets or other unpleasantries (yes, i
do stop for real food along the way). i'm home!
my car is filthy and bug-encrusted, but the house is still
standing and i get to sleep in my own bed tonight. this
road trip is officially over.
many, many thanks:
to crazy charles for his generous hospitality and extreme
patience while i was in austin, and for graciously allowing me to
discharge his weapon. to the jim/lissa/beth team for keeping my
lawn alive, and especially to jim for fixing my bedsqueak. to linda
for inviting me to her home, tolerating the truck stop and giving
me visions of moonlit chickens. to brenda for the holy protection
and to arlene for providing a means of making palatable coffee
while travelling. to beth for teaching me that in a pinch extra
strength excedrin can substitute for coffee. to judy who offered
to fly out and ride home from texas with me - perhaps the kindest
offer of my life, given with the heart of a true friend. to kelly
for gifting me with waterfall freshness. to laura for insisting
i visit carlsbad caverns, tipping me off to the frontier, and being
willing to question me. to lori for listening, caring and advising.
to mom for putting me up, showing me around and cooking a mighty tasty
pork roast. to heather for making the right choices and keeping me
updated while i was on the road. to dean for demanding i visit monument
valley and last but absolutely NOT least, to everyone else who listened
to me blather on endlessly about this trip, made it through this very
long trip report (is anyone still reading?), and/or tolerated my calls
from the road.
