Day 8: April 20, 2010

We made it to Flagstaff just before dark and were so tired we just ordered pizza and went to bed. We choose to stay in Flagstaff since it is only an hour south of the Grand Canyon and had cheaper lodging than some of the other towns closer to the GC.

Our plan was to get up early and spend most of the day at there. We figured there is lots to see since it's so big and stuff. Before bed we checked the weather and it didn't look good. 45 degrees and SNOW. Snow? In Arizona?! Can you see where this is going? We decide we'll make a go of it anyway. It can't be cold the WHOLE time.

Speaking of weather, it's been completely screwy the whole trip. Several people I've talked to blame it on El Nino. I don't care whose fault it is. When it's colder in Arizona than it is in Delaware something's not right.

So we wake up to sleet and freezing wind. We gamely slap on our hiking shoes and multiple layers of clothing. The drive up was really pretty and it turns out we drive through the largest Ponderosa Pine Forest in the United States. There is rain. Lots of it. And sleet. The road has terrible drainage and there is at least 3 inches of water on it. We get to one point in the road and three cars had slid off the road and were stranded in ditches. As we're driving along and deciding whether to turn back or not, a pickup truck going the other direction slides off the road, into the median, and very nearly flips over.

We get off at the next exit and make a beeline for Vegas.

I look at the weather and it's supposed to be gorgeous at the end of the week in the Canyon so we'll hit it on the way back. I've wanted to see the Grand Canyon my entire life. There is no way that I'm driving all the way out here and not see it. Katie feels the same way.

We figure we'll hit Vegas around dinner time and bonus- we'll drive over the Hoover Dam! One more Wonder of the World I can check off my list. This day isn't going to be so bad after all.

After bypassing much of Route 66 in New Mexico we're eager to get back on it, and lucky for us, one of the most preserved and scenic routes on the entire road is from Seligman, AZ to Topock, AZ. We'll have to get off before Topock, in Kingman, AZ in order to head north toward Vegas but we'll still travel on a good sized hunk of the original stretch.

We stop in Seligman by pure chance. We are still trying to find a new guide book because our dude is kinda bringin' us down, man. There are quite a few Route 66 gift shops to choose from. We pick this one because of the sweet truck out front. Turns out it was a good choice.

Are you confused by the the large BARBER sign? Don't worry I was too. It was the beginning of a full scale assault on our senses. It was a good thing. Promise.

We walk in and I immediately smell coffee and my eyelids open another quarter of an inch. We got up early, remember? The second stimuli my sleepy brain registers is a very excited, happy guy saying, "Hello!" and "Welcome to the Angel and Vilma Delgadillo Route 66 Gift Shop and Visitor's Center!" He comes out from behind the counter and asks us where we're from and without taking a breath starts to tell us all about this Route 66 extravaganza that we have stumbled upon.

Who knew that tiny Seligman, Arizona is ground zero for the Route 66 preservation movement? Before the construction of "That Great Concrete Monstrosity" otherwise known as the I-40, Seligman was like any other town situated along 66, bustling and prosperous in large part because of tourist dollars from the motoring public who drove through the town for decades. Once I-40 was completed in that part of the country Seligman's revenue dried up almost at once. Angel Delgadillo, the town barber was determined to change that. See? It's all coming together now, isn't it? It now makes total sense there would be a barber sign out front.

Together he and his brother Juan who also owned a buisness in Seligman recognized many people were developing a sense of nostalgia about the old route and set out to preserve 66 and started the Historic Route 66 Association of Arizona. Because of their efforts, other states followed their lead formed preservation organizations and Voila! The Route 66 preservation movement was born.

The clerk at the gift shop said that usually they get bus loads of tourist coming through, mostly from different countries but they were slow that week because international airline travel had ground to a crawl because of that 312 syllable Icelandic volcano.

Mr. Excitable, whose name I've forgotten, is Angel's son-in-law. It's obvious he shares Angel's love and enthusiasm for 66. It was actually really nice to be welcomed so warmly into a business we chose to patronize. They have photographs and memorabilia crammed into every open space and hanging all over the walls. Angel's original barber shop is still there, with the mirror and barber chair still intact. I had to look twice to see it was a mirror because it was covered with pictures and notes from visitors. Before heading in the back to take care of some business, Angel's son-in-law showed us the over 50 years of scrapbooks they have kept. Any visitor who sends them a note, a picture, anything, they put it in the scrapbook and save it for posterity. I thought it was an incredibly sweet and thoughtful thing to do.

Clearly this place means a lot to many, many people. We chat a little more, find the book we need, sign the guest book and go on our merry way. On they way out the door, Guy Smiley tells us not to miss the Snow Cap, Juan Delgadillo's greasy spoon next door.

We walk into the Snow Cap and this is what we see. A small, tunnel of a room with photographs, cards and other paraphernalia attached to the walls and ceiling. Some with many years of dust lingering on the surfaces. This too, looks to be a much loved place. Although Juan has passed away, his family continues to operate the Snow Cap, and based upon the number of regulars we ran into while waiting for our food, quite successfully. We read in our guide book later that Juan was known for his quirky humor and his practical jokes.

We experience this tradition at the merciless hands of one of his sons as we try to order. We ask for a taco, a cheeseburger, fries and shakes and he says no. We say "please" and he responds by saying he'll think about it. He asks if we want mustard and squirts a bottle at us and out pops yellow string. When asked if we want straws, he hands us a bundle of straw (you know, like hay?). It goes on and on... While waiting for our order several more customers wander in and when John goes to squirt the mustard bottle at one particular stylish woman in expensive white pants she jumps back and screams. Loudly. It was hilarious. When our food is ready he yells, "oh, sisters..." in a falsetto sing song voice. We didn't really get asked if we were sisters until we got to the southwest. Either people are more nosy out here or more friendly or a combination of both. I didn't mind. We do look freakishly alike these days.

Oh! While waiting for our food we had nothing to do but look at all the stuff taped to the walls and tucked away almost out of sight, I find this little gem. Holla, Blue Hens! I also found a business card from North East, MD. There were patches from many Police Departments, including Maryland. Way to represent, East Coast!

John was a cool guy and was very well liked by all the regulars. He knew each of their names and asked about their families. I was beginning to like him more and more with each passing minute. I also love him for attaching this sign on the side of the building

John and "the women" (that's what he calls the ladies who help in the kitchen) had packed our food to go since it was too cold to eat outside and we really wanted to get on the road. When Katie gets her burger out of the bag, there are holes punched into the Styrofoam container in the shape of a smiley face. When she opens it up, she spies a smiley face tot tucked in amongst her fries. I could tell she had grown a little tired of some of John's antics while we were waiting for our food, but the tot put a smile back on her face.

I don't know how the burger was, but man the taco was fantastic. One of the best parts of being in the southwest for me was the food. If you ever get to the Snow Cap, just know the red chili sauce is HOT. Yum.

Before we leave I mosey on over to the back yard of the Snow Cap which is filled with all manner of vintage automobiles. Most of them had eyes, so they looked like they belong in Cars. I have it on good authority that the producers of Cars interviewed Angel and it's featured on the DVD.


It's easy to see why Seligman and other small towns inspired the fictional town of Radiator Springs. The ghost towns were very sad. It's like their abandoned buildings and automobiles are waiting for the glory days to come again. Speaking of cars, we've seen more vintage automobiles on this trip than in our whole lives. Ramone, Flo, Doc, Sheriff, Fillmore, Red and of course, Mater have all been hanging around one part of 66 or another as we pass on through.

Cars from the Snow Cap

That building above was either in Oklahoma or Texas (I'll have to check on that and get back to you). It used to be a garage and motel and now has been fully restored and I believe is used a local government building. Just about every town and landmark claims to have inspired Cars, but this one I can really believe. Doesn't it look like Luigi and Guido are going to come roaring out of the garage to sell you some tires??

Sorry for all the Cars tangents. I love me some Lightening McQueen.

Okay, so this post is getting epic. I'll save the Hoover Dam and Vegas for next time!

Thanks for reading!

Day 7: April 19, 2010

Happy birthday to me! Don and the kids called 6 a.m. our time to wish me a happy birthday. It was a great way to wake up. This trip is a blast but Katie and I both miss our families like crazy. I ended up falling back asleep and we got on the road about 10 or so. We stopped for lunch at the Midpoint Café in Texas. The exact halfway point is a bone of contention among die hard Route 66ers. The Midpoint Café, as evidenced by it’s name, has no qualms about declaring itself the halfway point and even has a sign out front with two arrows, one pointing to Chicago and one pointing to Los Angles, each with the exact same mileage. We stopped here because it was lunchtime and the café is known for it’s delicious ugly crust pies. The food was not fancy but good and the pies, although not ugly, were indeed delicious. Katie had coconut, and I ordered banana cream. Alas, they had no pies with bananas that day so I had to settle for cherry cobbler. I WISH I could make crust like that it. It was tender and flaky, a little sweet and a lot yummy.

The yummiest thing in the whole café, however were a table full of real, hot, finger licking good cowboys. They had some sort of livestock in a trailer attached to their large diesel truck and were obviously road warriors just like us. All 5 of them were under 40, wearing lots of denim, muddy cowboy boots, spurs and cowboy hats. All were incredibly fit with tanned, wind burned faces with strong arms and large hands. I’m sad to say only one of them was raised right by his momma and took his hat off at the table. That’s ok. I forgive them. I was facing their table so I had a real nice view all during lunch and I only have one thing to say:

Best. Birthday. Present. EVER.

Katie is for sure staying in Texas now.

Once the cowboys leave the only view we have are of our ugly crust pies so we hurry up and finish and get back on the road.

We’re in New Mexico!! Holla!

The land here is unbelievably beautiful. We

can’t stop taking bad pictures from the car. We wasted a lot of time here trying to chase down route 66 and the Jimaz trail, which has awesome geology and breathtaking views. We finally give up and find a place to stay in Albuquerque. According to Trip Advisor there is an inexpensive but clean motel right on 66 with helpful, albeit grumpy owners. We decide to take a chance and since I’m driving, Katie calls to make a reservation. She calls and asks for availability and the first thing the guy says on the phone is “Are you non-smoker”? Katie lies through her teeth

and says, “Yeah, I’m a non smokers, yes. “ Turns out the name of this hotel is not just the Monterey Motel, it’s the NON- SMOKING Monterey Motel. Oh boy, I have visions of us being thrown out on our ear after Mr. Grumps takes a whiff of us at check in. I don’t smoke, but Katie does, and although she’s been very considerate by rolling down her window every time she needs a smoke, I still think I smell a little. After driving up and down Central Ave for what seemed like a hour, we called the motel and were we needed to head on Central Ave, EAST. We need to make a u-turn except at virtually every left turn there is a no u-turns sign. We have dubbed Albuquerque the “No u-turn capital of the world”

We finally find the place (have you noticed we have trouble finding our hotels? It must be a character flaw) and we get out to check in. There is an older gentleman who is a curious mix of European and Southwestern behind the desk. His mannerisms, speech and face all scream Eastern European but he’s wearing a silver and turquoise bracelet and ring and wearing the ubiquitous earth toned vest I see everywhere in the southwest. I say Hello, do you still have availability for this evening? He barks out, “You called, and said I have availability, then yes, there is still availability.” I can tell this is heading downhill fast. I squash the urge to go hide in the car and leave Katie to deal with him. He practically throws the key for room 8 at us. Katie then asks to see the room first before committing. “Oh, god”, I moan to myself, “we’re going to die in freaking Albuquerque”.

Turns out, Gustav, the Polish Prince wasn’t as bad as I initially thought and the motel and room were even better than the reviews said. The grounds and room were spotless and there were personal touches like real flowers in each room, a rubber bath mat, and patterned sheets on the bed. Katie and I are now in love with grumpy Gustav and his motel.

We head back to the office to check in. We ask about a good place to eat and he points to menus in a bin on the wall and tells us Church Street Café has the best food in Old Town. This guy has thought of everything! They have a nice laundry room that is right next to our room and open until 10 and Gustav says he has an unlimited supply of quarters. He makes a point of saying it closes at 10 p.m. and IF we’re not finished we can finish at 8 a.m. the next morning. Apparently this guy has a lot of rules. Our plan is to order take out from Church Street, get a bottle of wine and play cards while doing laundry.

On the way to our room we chat with who we assume is his wife. She is cleaning up the potted plants around the pool area and she and I talk about gardening for a few minutes.

Although it was too cold to use it, I was impressed they had a pool. Most of the Route 66 motels at this price filled in their pools, I assume because they’re so expensive to keep up. Like everything else at the Non Smoking Monterey Hotel, the pool area was spotless but with lots of rules about how to use it. Take for example, the following signage “No bath towels! Get pool towels from office” “Absolutely NO suntan lotion or oil in the pool!” I especially like the exclamation points. Grumpy Gustav’s voice rings in my head.

Our plans change at Church Street and we get the last table before they close. Katie orders a bottle of wine to celebrate my birthday. I order the combination platter with calabacitas (squash). The waiter asks me if I want red or green chili sauce. I want to try both so I say “Christmas”. “Red or green?” is actually the state question, the legislature made it official or something just like the state tree, flower , etc.. The waiter says no problem and off he goes to put our order in.

The menu has a history of the place and as we read we find out the place was a house originally built in 1706. The have some historical document because the house stayed the the same family it’s entire history until the most recent owner died, the current owners got a hold of it and turned it into a restaurant. The documentation is supported by the architecture. The walls are over 2 feet thick in some places and generally speaking the thicker the walls in colonial Spanish architecture, the older the structure. The owners close the one page history with a request to contact them if anyone has any more information about the place. I silently thank the gods of historic preservation that someone who cares about the history of the place bought it.

They close at 9 so the place is empty and the staff clearly wants to go home. I wish we had some more time to explore it. Katie and I are baffled by the fact the place closes down so early.

Oh well, we’re tired anyway. When did we get so old and boring?

The food really was really good. It was so spicy that I was sweating. A lot. It was great. I think I’m becoming quite the connoisseur of hot foods. Here is what my dinner looked like. I can't really remember what it was. I think an enchilada, and....I don't remember.

We get back to the hotel and it’s too late to do laundry. Gustav says he closes up promptly at 10. He says he’s got to sleep sometime. I don’t blame him. We also need to sleep because we’re getting up early and getting out of town the next morning. I fill out a comment card and leave a glowing review of, as Katie puts it, Gustav’s Polish Palace. Katie really thought he was a cool dude and we didn’t disrespect his no smoking edict. Every time she needed a cigarette we’d drive around the block. She said she felt like she was hiding from dad.

One final word about Gustav: We chatted with him a while after we checked in. He said he was from Poland, but lived in Chicago a long time because it second largest concentration of Polish outside of Warsaw. I said, yes we noticed there were a lot of Poles in Chicago because everyone (I often speak in hyperbole and don’t mean what I say literally) had Polish flags on their car. He responded by chiding me and saying that no, not everyone has flags, but many do.

He’s a little strict, and very literal but we enjoyed his European Hospitality just like it said on the sign.

So the plan was to get up early and make haste for Flagstaff so we could visit the Grand Canyon the next day, BUT as so often happens on this trip, our plans changed. We had almost forgot to visit the coolest of all museums in the entire world: The National Museum of Atomic Science and History! We already missed the underpants; I couldn’t bear it if we missed Fat Man and Little Boy too. We leave Gustav and his wife behind and head for the Atomic Energy Committee.

It wouldn't be the Kelly Kate Great American Road Trip if we could find what we were looking for so we stop back in Old Town for breakfast and to get a new Route 66 guidebook with better information, but hardly anything is open. We wander in and out of the few open stores and soon find ourselves in a small bookstore specializing in the history and culture of the southwest. Seems like even when we're on vacation we can't stay away from books. On our way out I ask the man behind the counter if he can point us in the direction of the Atomic Science and History Museum since according to our directions it should be right near Old Town. He tells us it's 13 miles further east on Central Ave- the same Central Ave that our hotel is on!

Like the giant nerd I am, I tell him how excited we are to see the museum and he tells us all about his time as a "spook" or "squirrel" in the Army Intelligence during the Korean War. It was early and I hadn't had any coffee yet so I don't remember a lot of the conversation. I do remember, however, how he told us he goes to Intelligence conferences and they keep "old timers" like himself in the loop. He tells us without us asking or even being that interested that he knows people who have worked at Area 51 and they have NEVER seen a spaceship or alien. After ruminating on that for a while, I've come to the conclusion he sees it as his job to dispel the rumor and mystery surround Area 51. That makes me think that maybe there is something to those old rumors after all. C'mon people, throw you're best conspiracy theories at me and lets figure this thing out.

People in New Mexico are all very friendly, and very, umm... how shall I say it...unique. I like it immensely. I'd like to come back for a long weekend and explore Albuquerque with Don.

On the way out of town we stop at Mannies for breakfast and I had Huevous Rancheros, a traditional southwestern breakfast. This thing was huge! Lets see if I can remember what came with it: Corn tortillaa with 2 eggs over hard (that’s how I ordered them), topped with chili, red and green chili sauce (I got to say Christmas again!), beans, hash browns, and I think that’s it. It also came with a thick, warm flour tortilla. For dipping, I guess. This thing was HUGE. I didn't eat the whole thing, but our friend Jon, who says he can eat more than any one he knows could have.

Our waitress looked bored and not all that friendly, but I couldn’t help remarking that we’re from the east coast and I’ve never had Huevos Rancheros and I can’t wait to try them. She brightens up considerably and assures me I’ll love them. And she was right, I do. I’ve actually been wanting them for a long time, and was going to make them for dinner a few weeks ago but Katie and Don begged me not to. They don’t like spicy foods- only Harry and I do.

The Atomic museum was awesome. While we were paying our admission fee (only $8, folks!) one of their volunteers whose job it was to pass out maps was talking to us. I mentioned we were driving cross country and their museum was on our list of the 5 must sees on the entire trip. Her name was Dottie, she couldn’t have been a day over 80. She was surprised and flattered that we put that much stock the museum. She also couldn’t believe two girls were driving cross country. She said she admired us and urged us to be careful and not pick up any hitchhikers no matter how cute they were. I showed her my wedding rings and assured her we wouldn’t be picking up any hitchhikers and anyway, our tastes ran toward the cowboy sort.

Just like Mary, our waitress at the Port City Dinner in Catoosa, OK, Dottie complimented me on my toe nails and I took immense pleasure in telling her the color was ATOMIC ORANGE!! I was curious about Dottie, she did everything slowly, talking, moving and her hair had to have been half again as tall as her face. I was SURE she was a Texan and I wished to god I had a yardstick to measure that hair. It was this glorious shiny blond color and perfectly coiffed. Never in my life had I ever seen such hair. I loved it. Turns out Dottie grew up in Kentucky and married a Texan. I told her my man was a fellow mountain boy having grown up in West Virginia and we chatted for a moment about how the Ozarks remind us of the Appalachians and their people.

Dottie then began telling us about the museum and I shared how my family and I love to go to the Udvar-Hazy annex in VA and we’ve seen the Enola Gay, the B-29 that dropped the bomb on Hiroshima, there on several occasions. She then tells us she had the pleasure of meeting Paul Tibbits, the pilot of the Enola Gay. Dottie is one cool chick. Did you know Paul Tibbits named his plane after his mother? I can’t decided if that’s sweet or disturbing. Somehow we meander through the history of the war, telling us how her husband landed on Normandy and how talented Tibbits was to drop the bomb and get the plane and his crew back safely when everyone thought his was a suicide mission, and all the way to Truman and the decision to drop the bomb.

I tell her I think history had maligned Truman and it wasn’t his decision to develop the bomb. Heck, he didn’t even know about it until FDR died and the whole mess landed in his lap. Based on what I’ve read about him, ol’ Harry carefully thought out each move he made as president and I’m sure the decision to drop the bomb was not one that he took lightly. She totally agreed and told me I was one of the few people who knew Truman was in the dark about the bomb through most of the war. If you want to know more about Truman, David McCullough, the author who wrote that fabulous biography of John Adams also wrote one about Truman and it won the Pulitzer.

We finally say our goodbyes to Dottie and onto the museum we go. It’s divided into a history track and a science track. Of course I start with the history section. It’s where the stuff is! Katie is doing her thing of reading labels so we almost immediately get separated. I wander along and what do I find, but Vaseline glass! Iron Hill has some in the glowing rock display and I wasalways curious about its history. I took a picture of the label so I’ll remember it when I get back.

Near all the missiles I ran into an elderly gentleman who is one of the handful of docents scattered around the museum to answer any questions visitors have. He starts explaining about all the weaponry that’s in the gallery. I ask if he found in World War II and he says he missed it by days. As his training was wrapping up the war ended. He starts reminiscing about his days in the military as another volunteer joins us. They are both of the opinion that every American male should spend 4 years in the military as they feels it’s a great maturing experience for young men. I respond that while I agree in principle, as the mother of a young boy, I don’t relish sending my son off to war. They give each other a look and I politely excuse myself and go find some more awesome material culture. I should have included both my children in that sentiment since of course we send our daughters as well as our sons to war nowadays.

As I’m perusing the galleries I notice Katie and I are the only girls in the place. Katie says it’s cause we rock. I agree.

Museum coolness:

This thing was called a Revigator. It's a large pottery crock lined with radium ore. Users were urged to fill it with water and drink an average of six or more glasses daily. It was considered a cure- all until the 1920's. I wonder what all those people who used these things died from.

When we first walked in the museum, most of the floor was laid with some sort of polished stone- granite or marble, I'm guessing. Each tile was engraved with an element and when put together made an exact replica of the Periodic Table of Elements. It was truly awesome. It was hard to get a good picture because it was dark and the tile was shiny. The lines of text underneath were dedications. I guess people could buy an element and get what they wanted engraved underneath

The museum had a small Propaganda exhibit that was really cool. I don't have room to post all the posters. This one I thought was the best. Doesn't the evil German look like Darth Vader? Don,t you think George Lucas got his idea for the Empire from the Germans? If you think about it you can come up with all kinds of parallels, but for now I'll spare you from any more of my Star Wars musings. You're welcome.

Fat Man! and Little Boy!














This part of the exhibit was so excruciatingly painful, Katie and I couldn't read all the labels. A three year old boy was riding this tricycle outside his home when Paul Tibbits and his crew dropped the bomb on Hiroshima. The trike was flattened and the little boy died later that evening. This picture and the story accompanying it was absolutely haunting and made my heart ache. I just want to hold my babies tight.



This watch stopped at the exact time that the bomb was dropped on Hiroshima.

These, and hundreds more of paper cranes were mailed to the museum from a Japanese citizen. Forgive me if this in incorrect, but I think making paper cranes is symbolic of healing in Japanese culture and that's why this individual sent them to the museum. I found them very touching.

We leave the museum by mid afternoon and drive to Flagstaff. The plan is to hit the Grand Canyon early the next morning!


Good Night, Friends.

Day 6: April 18, 2010 Part Deux

After driving most of the day, we're dying to get out of the car and stop in Clifton, OK at another Route 66 museum. This was very well done. I thought the interpretation was really great. It was engaging, interesting and very educational, plus they had a great collection of material culture relating to the road. Some people are label readers, some are browsers, I go straight for the stuff. The artifacts are always the most interesting part for me.

Each gallery was dedicated to a different decade of the road which I thought gave a refreshing perspective on the road. Immediately upon entering each gallery there was a red button you could push that would play a song indicative of that particular decade. I really loved that the music wasn't just playing and they gave the visitor the choice of whether or not they wanted to hear the music. For some, like Katie and I, it added to the overall experience, but I'm sure for others would be a distraction. We woud hit the little red button and get our groove on. It was great.

I found the 1920's and 1930's the most interesting. There was one memory printed on the wall that I found particularly poignant and moving. Sometime in the 1930's the road was being constructed in this man's town and his father and other men from the town went to work on the road. 66 was really a godsend in these communities since everyone was dirt poor. He said he didn't realize he was poor until years later because everyone in town was in the same predicament as his family. There wasn't even any money for he and his siblings to get shoes to wear to school. Rather than bringing in work crews, the builders relied on local labor. One day his father asked him to bring water to the site and after taking his fill he passed it around to the rest of the crew. The foreman then said if this boy brought water to workers everyday he'd pay him a dime a day. Even 50 years later he clearly remembers the how that shiny dime felt weighing down his pocket the whole way home and how excited his mother would be to get the extra money. Maybe they would even get shoes!

I also loved the display of the Joad-esque truck laden with all a family's worldly possessions on their way to a better life in California. I was totally channeling Steinbeck. I know a lot of people find The Grapes of Wrath the most depressing piece of literature they've ever read, but I found it fascinating look at the Great Depression in a place that I didn't even know existed. I first read it in high school and it really broadened my horizons.

Here are a few more pictures of things were saw at the museum.

Our route

First armadillo sighting!

Real rattlers?!

Ha! joke's on us!

The best part our museum experience was while we were watching the worlds most depressing movie about disappearing Route 66 a couple asked us if were were traveling East or West. I answered West then they walked out. I was sure I heard a European accent so I left the theater and chased them down. Turns out they're from Killarny, Ireland and flew into Chicago and rented a car just to drive the Mother Road. You think that's crazy? Many International visitors to the US are crazy for Americana and Route 66 is full of it. We saw a quartet of 20 something guys from Norway at lunch one day and today in New Mexico I saw a Japanese couple touring Old Town Albuquerque. I knew they were tourists when they took pictures of each other in front of a wooden Indian. I excitedly told Katie I was going to got talk to them and shecounseled me not to because in my overexcited state I might scare them. Thanks for looking out for the tourists, Katie. You're a real friend to man. Anyway, looking at guest books and chatting with owners of Route 66 business, we found that people come from England, Belgium, Germany (lots of Germans!), Australia, Japan, and Russia and more. Who knew? I can see why they do it. Traveling on 66 is a really great way to see the country.

After the museum we make a beeline for Amarillo, Texas and the aforementioned Sleep Inn. Here two other fun things we saw in Oklahoma that I didn't post yesterday:
The famous blue whale in Catoosa, OK. The home of our beloved Port City Diner. The whale started out as a private amusement for the family that owned the land. Later, in the 1970's it was opened to the public. Can you imagine driving down dusty, hot Oklahoma roads and come across this? It would have been heaven! Off to the left side of the photograph there are concrete tables and benches with most of the brightly colored yellow and red plastic umbrellas still intact.

This was a quirky road side attraction right in someone's yard! There were a bunch of brightly painted totem poles and other Indian themed folk art. The large one cut off on the left side of the picture claims to be the largest totem pole in the world. I really liked this white one that was in the shape of a spear point.

Soon after this we were in Texas. I think Katie found her people here. She wants to move to Texas and marry her a cowboy. People told us Amarillo is very windy, freezing in the winter and hot as hell in the summer. I don't know about the weather, but I would definitely say Amarillo is a land of extremes and in more ways than one. We could tell it was windy without anyone having to tell us- all the trees along the median of the highway were bent in one direction.

The entire way to Amarillo we saw sign after sign for the Big Texan Steak House. And cows. Lots of cows. The combination of the two plus our friend Phoenix Jon's recommendation made it an impossibility to skip eating a steak dinner. The steak house got it's start in the 1960's as an eatery along 66 and over the years has grown into quite the tourist attraction. They advertise a FREE 74 ounce steak if you can eat it, a baked potato, salad and shrimp cocktail in under an hour. Katie and I did NOT take them up on their challenge, but we did have a great dinner nonetheless. I was looking forward to a sirloin and Katie got a fillet. They had a 9 ounce sirloin for $15, but for only $5 more you got 9 more ounces and two sides. The side of me that loves a great deal couldn't resist a 18 ounce steak, but my eyes were waaaay bigger than my stomach. Here is the size comparison between my steak and Katie's. I couldn't even eat half of it. I wish I could of. It was delicious.

In keeping with the tourist trap theme of the place here is Katie in the giant rocking chair. There were tons of hokey photo ops and lots of dead animals on the wall. I kind of loved it. They even have a western themed hotel, but the reviews I read were not positive. I'm glad we looked elsewhere and found our friend the Sleep Inn.

The restaurant also had a huge gift shop complete with a real rattlesnake. I felt bad for the little guy because his tank overlooked various and sundry items made from rattlesnake parts. I felt like is was a little like torture for the old guy. Our book says it's a throwback to the roadside reptile attractions of days gone by. I just thought it was creepy.

So, remember how I said everything is bigger in Texas? Check this out: the world's largest cross. I can't remember where in Texas this was, but it was on the way Amarillo. Surrounding the complex are the stations of the cross. It's difficult see just how enormous this thing was because everything around it is flat. Trust me, it's freakin' huge. Like skyscraper huge.

Just like Missouri, Texas loves Jesus.

By the way, speaking of skyscrapers, cites out here don't really have them. Mr. cowboy himself, Zach from the Sleep Inn said that he didn't realize Amarillo didn't have skyscrapers until he traveled to Michigan and saw how big they are there. Glad we're not the only ones who noticed. Katie has banned the Deep in the Heart of Texas song. I guess I sang it at full volume one too many times.

Bed time. Even though I'm blogging about our time in Texas we're actually in Flagstaff, Arizona and we're going to spend the entire day at the Grand Canyon tomorrow!!! I've wanted to visit the big ditch my whole life. I can't believe we're almost there! I looked at the weather earlier and its supposed to snow tomorrow. We're roughly at the same elevation as Denver and it's COLD. I'm going to have to break out my UD sweatshirt tomorrow.

Peace Out People!

Music: Dixie Chicks, Toby Keith, Joan Baez, MORE Dixie Chicks.

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!

Day 5: April 17, 2010

We're in Oh-k-la-home-a, Ok! Tulsa, to be exact. The motel is cheap, but has an awesome vintage neon sign out front. The place dates from the 1950's. '58 I think. The room is shabby and they are stingy with the pillows and towels. Did I mention it's cheap? It's okay, we're getting up early again tomorrow so we won't be here long. We don't really like to drive in the dark since we can't see anything so the earlier we get up, the better.

We started out in Springfield and drove through to Tulsa today. Missouri is weird. All of the county roads are letters instead of numbers. This has caused conversation like, “you want to turn left on AT” “what the heck is AT? You mean A-T?” or, “look for county road V up here” B, as in Beeyaya or V, as in vulgar?”

In the odd category saw a female turkey crossing the road on a particularly rural stretch of the Mother Road. We were slowing down to get a picture of this gas station and she saw us and hopped across the road and into the woods. I had no idea turkeys hop. The things you learn on a road trip.

My fellow wackadoodle roadie and I have taken to “shake and bake” fist bumping a la Ricky Bobby and Cal Naughton, Jr in Talladaga Nights. If you have not been introduced to the awesomeness of this piece of cinematic gold, I have included the following clip for your viewing pleasure. You’re welcome. Shake and Bake

I just got Oklahoma and Iowa. Woot! Katie did not congratulation me. Hmmphh! We are also playing punch buggy and Katie must have built in radar to locate the little buggers. She usually punches me first and then I punch in retaliation since she punched so hard. We’re both going to be black and blue by the end of the trip.

We got off 66 in Carthage to track down the George Washington Carver National Monument. GWC was born into slavery in Diamond, MO and became a preeminent agricultural scientist and all around awesome human being. The park ranger was chatting up everyone who came in the door and asked us where we were from. When we replied Delaware he made a face. “Yup,” we said, “Delaware is the only state in the union without a National Park” He replied immediately “Oh, I know. We all know.” Take heed people of The Big D, our little slice of heaven has quite the reputation among the National Park service.

That got me wondering, is Delaware planning for a National Park? If you have been waiting with baited breath for the answer, than allow me to satisfy your curiosity with Senator Carper’s Delaware National Park plan. Holla, Blue Hens!

We leave the judgmental ranger and head into a large theater to watch a movie of Carter’s life that looks like it was produced in 1972. Dr. Carter was an amazing man who made tremendous contributions to agriculture as well as being a deeply spiritual man. The movie however, focused almost exclusively on his spiritual life to the detriment of his scientific contributions. Thinking back on our time in Missouri, I really shouldn't be surprised. There were churches, signs for churches, pro life signs etc... EVERYWHERE. I'm not judging here, I am merely reporting that like George Washington Carver, Missouri is very spiritual. By the way, did you know people pronounce it Missouruh? The guy narrating the movie was almost unintelligible so thick was his accent. I'm glad there were subtitles.

We're in tornado country!

Kansas and OK in part 2 tomorrow!

Later, Alligators!

Music: Elton John, Hole, Dixie Chicks, radio