The DataVan Diaries

DAY FIVE

APRIL 13
Stanton PA to  Casey IL

APRIL 14   Casey IL to   Cuba MO

APRIL 15        Cuba MO to Amarillo TX

APRIL 17
Winslow AZ to  Yuma AZ

HOME

We started the morning out partaking of the free continental breakfast (I tell ya, my expense report will make Marian proud) with high hopes for excellent sights and festive adventures for the day.

Just west of Amarillo, we sighted the famous Cadillac Ranch. We actually had to get off I-40 and double back on a road parallel to the Ranch in order to get to it.  As you can see from the pictures, there's about a dozen Cadillacs buried in the middle of a farm (where they actually grow crops; it's just evidently not the growing, or harvest, season).  There is a fence with gate surrounding the Ranch, but it's unlocked, leaving access to walk right up to the vehicles at any time of day or night.  We actually got closer than the pictures would indicate, but damned if I didn't bring a half-full diskette in the camera, which filled after the first few photos, and I wasn't about to walk all the way back and return just for more photos.

Continuing on a fair clip westward, we weren't the least bit sorry to leave the drab, flat, barren plains of the Texas panhandle for the far more intriguing terrain of New Mexico.  Almost immediately upon reaching the border, the scenery changed from the flat yellow colour of dead grass and sandy soil to the vibrant reds of clay, bluish-grays of sandstone, and oily black of what I assume is shale dotting the landscape (but what the hell do I know -- I didn't take "Rocks for Jocks" aka Geology, in college).  Mesas, foothills, and the unusual rock formations caused by the melt-down of the Ice Age millions of years ago, was music to my eyes after the general boredom of the landscape in the previous days. 

We had planned to stop somewhere around Tucumcari for lunch/brunch, but I was so busy enjoying the scenery -- and resisting the brutal crosswinds that threatened to shove the DataVan into the next county, let alone the next lane -- that I didn't even realize we'd passed the area.  My sister, supposed co-pilot for the trip, evidently zoned out, or didn't want to be a nag like our mother, or both, and never told me that we were reaching our intended exit...so of course, I kept going.  This resulted in our having to settle for whatever we could find quick enough to kill the roaring of our stomachs.  The place: Cline's Corners, a good old fashioned tourist stop, replete with two gas stations, a huge gift shop filled with mocassins, cowboy hats and fake Indian items, and...the Cline's Corners Cafe.  I'm not sure what possessed us to partake of the buffet, but we made the choice and had to stick to it.  Let me tell you, it was definitely not anything to write about.  There was sticky spaghetti, a questionable dish that I later determined to be tortellini drowning in a thick tomato sauce, tostadas (which would have been tastier if they were warm), a fried item that I think was chicken, but I really couldn't tell, so I avoided it, corn, mashed potatoes and gravy, and tamales.  (The tamales, by the way, were not bad.)  As my sister reminded me, "It is local cooking".  Just not GOOD local cooking.  Egads.

Achieving nothing but "mata hambre" (killing the hunger), we set out again to battle the crosswinds.  (Might I add, those winds were pretty damned cold, too!)  I do believe I've developed the muscles in my arms from navigating the van through the veritable "Mr. Toad's Wild Ride" through New Mexico. (For those of you who don't know, "Mr. Toad's Wild Ride" is a ride that was once at Disneyworld; you get in a car that drives in a crazy, herky-jerky motion, and the steering wheel bucks and jerks.)

We continued on through Albuquerque and numerous Indian reservations.  At exit 47 in New Mexico, we reached the Continental Divide.  The foothills of the Rockies were very pretty, and of course we had to take a photo of the DataVan at the Divide for posterity.

All along the route we ran into Historical Route 66 signs such as this one. It seems that the "Mother Road" was pretty much left to rot once the Interstate Highway System took over.  Even though much of I-40 is built over what had once been Route 66, there are still great expanses of the original road (in varying states of usefulness) to be found.

Another interesting New Mexico sign we found was this one. Clearly, the road to hell is north of New Mexico and terminates at, or north of, Shiprock.

Making excellent time, we zipped through Gallup, NM and Chambers, AZ, stopping only to enjoy the Painted Desert National Park.  Unfortunately, the camera simply didn't do the view justice; the colours were varied and far more vibrant than what you see here.  There were other, more gorgeous and fascinating areas in the park, but it was difficult to stop and get pictures of them.  You'll just have to trust me.  Also part of the park is the Petrified Forest, where you can see scattered everywhere chunks of petrified wood.  When you first enter the park, you are interrogated by a Park Ranger asking if you have any petrified wood on you (it's highly against the law to snitch wood from the Forest, however, petrified wood acquired from other areas is legal to buy and own).  On the way out, there's a large sign stating "VEHICLE INSPECTION AHEAD", and one can assume that they're going to take a gander and check to ensure you didn't lift a few pieces of the rock-like wood to take home as a souvenir.  Interestingly enough, although we were leaving in a giant van, the Park Ranger at this gate simply waved us off.  For all she knew, we could have left with a giant log and they'd be none the wiser!  There's security for you.

Our next planned must-see was Holbrook, AZ - home of the Teepee Motel.  Yep, that ain't just some clever name -- this is actually a motel in which the rooms are giant one-room air-conditioned teepees.  If we hadn't reached Holbrook so danged early, I swear we would have stayed in one!  Instead, we just took pictures, laughed a lot, and headed on out back on Route 66.  From there we went to Joe and Aggies Cafe, one of the oldest, if not the oldest restaurants in town.  We seated ourselves and were immediately treated to tasty tortilla chips served with one hot sauce to dip them in.  And I do mean hot!  Delicious -- but definitely hot!  My eyes were larger than my stomach, so I ordered a beef taco dinner and the cheese crisp.  Ordinarily, when I eat tacos, I need to drench the things in sour cream and hot sauce to make them appropriately tasty for me.  This was not the case here.  The freshly-cooked ground beef melded so nicely with the delicate-yet-flavorful corn tortilla, lettuce and grated cheese that I forgot all about requesting a side of sour cream.  The Spanish rice was good, the refried beans outstanding, and the cheese crisp -- melted cheese on a light flour tortilla with chiles -- to die for. There was also a sopapilla that came with my dinner, but I was so filled up from everything else, that I could just only take a bite and say it was excellent.

At the counter, we got into a brief conversation with Alice Gallegos, who, with her husband Stanley, had run the restaurant since 1978 (or was it '73? I get so confused), and it was Alice's parents who opened the cafe in 1943.  As it was my sister's birthday I was going to give her grief like "at least something is older than you", but I decided not to!  Alice and Stanley have just turned over ownership of the cafe to their son and daughter.  The Gallegos are genuinely nice people with a great restaurant -- so if y'all are reading this -- thanks again for a marvelous meal! And everyone else reading this -- if you find yourself near Holbrook, ignore all the other restaurants proclaiming their excellence at Mexican/American food.  Stop only at Joe and Aggies.  Besides - you gotta love a place that's a barber shop, too.

Having made up for a miserable lunch with a marvelous dinner, we drove on and made our final stop for the day in Winslow.  If my calculations are correct, we're roughly 9 hours away from San Diego.  I'm hoping I'm right!

Two classic vehicles parked in front of truly classic lodging

Holbrook, AZ