Day 6: April 18, 2010

Hooray for Kansas! Kansas was the best state to drive through. It took us 45 minutes, tops. Notice it's called Galena. There's lots of iron ore in these parts, just like in Newark! It wasn't a very pretty drive, there was lots of mining activity but it's another state we can cross off our list. Our friend Jon told us that somewhere in Kansas the house where the Wizard of Oz was filmed still stands and you can visit it. I wish we had time to seek it out and visit. We'd need months to see everything there is out here. Everyday we have to make decisions about what to see and what to skip. I can't wait to do this with Don and the kids. I think they'd love it.

When we play the license plate game we don't count the license plate of state we're in. I was the first to get Missouri! And Kansas once we left. Woot!

Once we leave in Kansas we're in Oklahoma! We decide to stay in Tulsa at the Desert Hills Motel which, according to various sources is a cool historic property. The property may be cool and they have an awesome neon sign, but the room was shabby and not as clean as it could have been. The owners advertise a microwave and refrigerator. Naturally we assume they would be inside the room. The fridge was in the room but not turned on. The microwave was quite a different story. There was only one in the whole complex. Wanna know how we know? It was outside. On a nightstand. Ready for guests to use. The beds were hard, the sheets threadbare and they were stingy with the towels, pillows and blankets. We won't stay here again, and I suggest you don't either.

Here's the cool sign. It was the only cool thing in the place. When Katie went to check out at 7 a.m. there was no one in the office so she had to ring the bell. The proprietor cane stumbling out of bed in her pajamas and a severe case of bed head. We felt her predicament was poetic justice for their unwelcoming attitude and shabby overpriced motel. Literally 2 minutes before I took this picture, they shut off the sign. Punks.

So we pulled out of the motel and started out on what we thought was West 66. It turns out it was East. I've made more u-turns on this trip than I ever have in my life. The road really wanted us to go that way though, because we found the world's greatest diner. If you're ever in the area do yourself a favor and check out Port City diner in Catoosa, OK. We knew it was going to be good when we saw the parking lot populated with locals' trucks.

We walk in and both waitresses call out a hearty "good morning" in an Oklahoma twang and invite us to sit wherever we please. The place was small but immaculate and populated with old timers in 10 gallon hats with tanned, weathered faces. Mary, our waitress, was just a doll. From complimenting my Atomic Orange toenails to sharing stories of "her babies" (she teachers kindergarten during the week). Bear with me for a moment while I gush about the food.

I ordered 2 eggs over hard with crispy bacon. It came with a fruit cup and sausage gravy and a biscuit. Katie ordered french toast, crispy bacon and hash browns. We agreed that neither one of us had ever eaten such perfectly prepared diner fare. The hash browns were crispy and not soggy and greasy, the french toast was fluffy and generously sprinkled with powdered sugar and cinnamon. Even the coffee was perfect- not too weak and not too strong. Everything was spotless, even the kitchen and bathroom. Port City Diner is the Goldilocks of diners; it was all just right. Hopefully we'll be able to stop here on the way home.

I have to tell you about Oklahoma's red dirt. I love it. It smells earthy, rich and slightly sweet. I had to fight the urge to stop and gather handfuls of the stuff and bring it to my face. Katie already thinks I'm weird enough. I love dirt. Alwasy have. Maybe it's the gardener and archeologist in me. Our rental car was white, but after a day and half travel through OK, its pretty much reddish orange. I looked it up and the dirt is red because of the large quantities of iron oxide in the soil. People around these parts tell me its stains your clothes something awful. At one point 66 ended as this red dirt road, and because it was raining we almost got stuck in the mud.

I was game to keep going, but Katie being the wiser of the two of us said Rolla, our 4 door compact sedan, was not made for such adventures. Plus, it we got stuck I would have to push. So I reluctantly agreed to get back on, what our guidebook calls the great concrete monstrosity. By the way, Rolla is named for a hillbilly town in Missouri town pronounced raw-luh. We've gotten many, many miles out of "Holla for Rolla" jokes.

Outside of Davenport we tried to rescue a dog, but it didn't work out. As we were motoring along there was a large white dog standing by the side of the road with the most miserable expression you ever did see. After and minutes discussion we popped a u-hey and went back to find him. He had on a broken harness like he belonged to someone. We wanted to see if he had a collar and if not take him to a local shelter. We were concerned he was too close to the road. I got out and called to him and he looked like he wanted to come, but apparently we were too scary because after a moments hesitation he turned a trotted off into the woods. We tried a couple more times even using commands and enticements of treats, but each time he'd get close then run away again. Hope you're safe and dry, buddy.

Dogs were the theme of the day. A few hours later we turned around in someone's driveway after getting off course and two Cujo like creatures charged the car teeth bared, snarling and making other unwelcoming noises. Thank goodness there was a fence between us and them. Also, sometime before that as we were barreling down an unbroken stretch of 66 another dog came out of nowhere and charged the car. This time there was no fence and Katie missed hitting him by inches.

Here are a few of the fun and silly things we encountered on our trip through the Sooner state. They also like to call themselves Cherokee Nation. I didn't see no Cherokees, but whatever floats your boat, Sooners.



World famous Round Barn. While I'm not normally excited by barns, this one has a neat story. It was built in the late 19th century (forgive me I don't have the literature on it) and by 1988 in was in complete disrepair. A retired contractor set about fixing it up relying on a core of volunteers who called themselves the Over the Hill Gang since all of them were of retirement age or older. There is a lot of photographs and memoribilla inside. It obviously means a great deal to the people who volunteer here. Sorry about the fuzzy parts. It was raining pretty hard when I took this picture.

According to the guidebook there was supposed to be a motel around here and the owners had a pet buffalo. I told Katie we HAD to stop and get a picture with the hairy beast, but when we drove by the place looked closed and there was no buffalo in sight. As consollation, we stopped at an incredibly hooky trading post with a giant Indian out front to get a picture with this FAKE buffalo. I was going to get my picture take with one of these suckers come hell or high water! I made Kate stand next to one so I could get her picture too. I don't think she was impressed.
This is an original, intact stretch of Route 66. It was pretty awesome to drive on and it had these wicked cool curbs. It was here that I really got a sense of what travel was like 80 or more years ago. Each town we drive through is full of boarded up tourist courts, gas stations, cafes and roadside attractions, each vying for the attention of the motoring public. They're really fun to see because in most cases it looks like the owners just turned off the lights, shut the door and never came back.

Here's what was probably a cafe.












Doesn't this guy look like the firetruck from Cars?












Shoe Tree. No one really knows why it's there. There were even a pair of ice skates hanging from one of the branches. Do ice skates really count as a shoe?


















This place evidently served DEER. And chicken. fancy. Someone spray painted "moose" underneath DEER but I don't believe they ever served that. You have to draw the line somewhere.

This section of road predates the 1926 Route 66. Notice how it's just wide enough for one car? According to what I read the road was supposed to be two lanes- one going in each direction, but road people got their budge slashed or something and rather than cut down on the amount of distance the road covered, they compromised and narrowed it to one lane. We didn't see another soul on this road. It was incredible. Pre -1926 people!

Tonight we're in Amarillo (pronounced Amarillah), Texas watching the 2010 Rodeo World Cup on TV. It's the last night of the competition and Brazil is the leader by far. To my untrained eye, the Americans are sucking hard.

In further news, we are in one of the nicest hotels I've ever been in.It's a sleep Inn, but it's fancy. In keeping with the cliche, everything IS bigger in Texas, all the doors are super tall, the beds are big (2 queens!) The guy who checked us in was giving us the low down on Texas. I just can't believe how different everything is here. Home slice at the check-in desk told us just about everyone carries a gun. Being the safety conscious person I am (there's a reason Katie calls me "Safety Town") I ask do they keep them in their houses? What about your children?? Do you all have gun safes? He said no, not really. People, there is a gun store down the street and they have a YOUTH section! This place is nuts! When we stopped for dinner just about every local male, and some females, wear cowboy hats and boots. Heck, even the babies have cowboy boots. I asked the front desk clerk if he was from Texas and he stood up a little straighter, and said in a deep, proud voice, "yes, ma'am, I am". I then asked, do you have a cowboy hat and he said, "yes, ma'am, I do". So, according to Zach at the front desk of the Comfort Inn in Amarillo, TX (Exit 64, not 71 off I-40) apparently they're good for keeping the sun off faces and they don't wear they ALL the time. There you have it-the low down on cowboy hats from an honest to god Texan.

Earlier in the day Katie and I were having a discussion about what the top of Texas is called. She objected when I called it a pan handle. She thinks that in order to be called a pan handle it has to be shaped that way- much like the Oklahoma or Florida panhandles. I asked her if it can't possibly be called a pan handle that what should it be called. You won't believe her answer: a top hat! I see where she's coming from, it does have a certain top hat feel, but it sounds crazy. BUT, people in this part of Texas are slightly off their rockers, in the best way possible of course, so I wouldn't put it past them. During our conversation with Zach he said, and I quote, "we're pretty proud to be from the Texas panhandle. I said, "Stop! Say that again!" and poked Katie while dancing with glee. I was right! Hee Hee.

OMG, the guy on the TV just said "Brazil has a four bull lead" Where else, but in Texas, would you ever hear that sentence uttered?

Music: Tulsa's Gen X Radio, Katie's new favorite station.

My wifi was wonky last night so I couldn't post the latest installment. We're getting up at the butt crack of dawn again tomorrow to get to the Grand Canyon by lunch time. So our visit to the Route 66 museum as well as the rest of Texas and New Mexico will have to wait for tomorrow.


Good Night, fellow travelers!