Debbie Does Dallas, But Kelly Does Santa Fe

Kelly and I left for Santa Fe, a 50 mile drive, shortly after noon. After a brief stop at Galerie Esteban in Santa Fe, we had lunch with Roseta Santiago at El Farol, the oldest cantina in Santa Fe. The burgers were great and the company even better.

After lunch we drove to the Plaza, where Kelly rode her unicycle up and down streets that were closed to traffic due to a concert on the Plaza Stage. She drew favorable comments from pedestrians and was pleased to be photographed by tourists. Kelly found the perfect sunglasses at the Dollar Store, and bought several pairs to coordinate with various outfits. The green ones looked especially interesting on her today.

Happy Camper

Kelly's iBook died the night before we left Florida, and I think a part of her died as well, considering the possibility of a long separation from her laptop. The next morning, Judy drove the ailing computer to Sarasota for emergency repairs at Computer Advantage. Cory, their personal computer angel, worked his magic with the broken machine. Not only did he repair it quickly, he shipped it to Kelly in Albuquerque, and it arrived before lunch today. Kelly bubbled with delight to have her beloved iBook in her hands again.

THANK YOU CORY!!!

Cuervo: A Ghost of a Town

The town of Cuervo, New Mexico dates back to around 1901, when the Southern Pacific Railroad pushed through Guadalupe County. Cuervo is the Spanish word for "crow," and the town's name probably came from nearby Cuervo Hill. Around 1910, the town began to grow when the land surrounding Cuervo was opened to cattle ranching, creating a land boom. When Route 66, the "Mother Road," came through Cuervo, the new highway created additional income opportunities with gas stations and hotels.


At its peak, Cuervo boasted two schools, two churches, two hotels and two doctors, along with numerous other businesses. In the 1930's, Cuervo reportedly had a population of almost 300. By the mid 1940's, however, it had already fallen to less than 150.


When I-40 came along, parts of Cuervo were literally buried as the superhighway cut a swath through the residential section of the town. Long dependent on travelers of the Mother Road, the town immediately began to die. Today the area still supports a handful of people, who live on the south side of I-40 and on outlying ranches.



After a brief stop in this deserted town, we made a beeline for Albuquerque, arriving mid-afternoon. Mesmerized by the spectacular vistas, Kelly was afraid to blink as we made our way over and through the mountains. In all honesty, I was dazzled by the visuals as well. I never tire of close encounters with mountains.

It's good to be home.

Conchas Lake

The 37 mile journey to Conchas Lake took us through the desert on a desolate, yet breathtakingly beautiful road. We saw only 4 cars along the way, with nary a billboard, gas station, house, or cell signal. It was definitely surreal, and almost creepy. As my pulse quickened, cattle grazing on the desert prairie reminded us we weren't completely alone.

Once at the lake, there were few signs of civilization, and still no cell signal. The only gas station in the tiny community dispensed Regular Unleaded at a whopping $3.49/gallon. A small sign at the side of the road announced the "next gas" could be found 72 miles ahead. I patted myself on the back for having the foresight to fill up in Tucumcari after breakfast.




Kelly was eager to go for a swim.


While she wandered along the shore, I studied the flora and fauna.



By midday we left Conchas Lake to explore Cuervo, a ghost town 25 miles away.

Tucumcari

Tucumcari (pronounced TOO-kum-kair-ee) is nestled on historic Route 66 in Northeast New Mexico. The origin of its name remains a mystery, though there are several theories and legends surrounding Tucumcari Mountain and the town itself. After a restful night, we awoke to cloudless skies and cool desert air. Built in 1939, the Blue Swallow Motel boasts the best neon in Tucumcari. Each room has it's own private garage, and the current owners, who bought the motel in 2005, have restored the Blue Swallow so well that I felt like I'd entered a time warp when I stepped into Room 10. Though cable TV is available in all the rooms, much appears as it might have half a century ago.





Kelly spent a lot of time in the Executive Business Center at the Blue Swallow.


Our room housed a tall Hogan Brevatherm short-wave unit that served as a TV stand, and an old telephone that actually worked.



We left Tucumcari mid-morning, bound for the Conchas Dam.

LIfe Lessons - Part 3

There is so much to learn from Kelly. I can add another word to my list of necessary all-inclusive adjectives: "random."

The day started a bit too early for the two weary sleepyheads. Heavy rain in and around Dallas made the morning seem tedious. By lunchtime, the skies cleared and we made our way up the long, lonely, 300-mile road from Dallas to Amarillo. It was a day of cowboys, oil wells, big sky, juicy bugs smeared across the windshield, country music, and miles and miles of nothing. As Kelly said at one point, "...and I thought I lived in the middle of nowhere..."






The landscape changes so dramatically just before the New Mexico border on I-40. Kelly was bug-eyed when she caught her first glimpse of the real West. We escaped the interstate and followed old Rt. 66 all the way to Tucumcari.



The ghostly images atop the Llano Estacado are windmills.


Time to hit the hay and put this computer to bed as well. The wireless connection at the Blue Swallow Motel has one fatal flaw: the signal can only be picked up from a picnic table next to the office. The bugs this evening were enough to keep me from my email, and at this late hour I sit in the car typing in the dark, waiting for my laptop to shift and sound the horn.

The owner of this ancient roadside motel assured me doors needn't be locked and our safety is assured in this friendly little town in the middle of nowhere. It's good to be back in New Mexico, even though I miss the palm trees, salt air, and snowy egrets flying overhead.

Roadside Oddities

Food for thought:

Only in America would Scooter Libby's sentence be commuted, but Texas vending machines are sent to prison.

Life Lessons - Part 2

The descriptive adjectives "nice," "awesome," "sweet," and "cool" cover just about any situation. I am learning that one's gray matter can be needlessly cluttered with an excessive amount of adjectives. Disciplining oneself to use only these four adjectives frees the mind for loftier pursuits, like calculating how much fancy granola one can eat on a road trip before feeling ill, or solving the crisis of world hunger.

We drove through four states today and made it all the way to Tyler, TX. This blogger accidentally left her beloved goosedown bed pillows in the hotel in Mobile and realized it 100 miles later. Fortunately the hotel staff retrieved the pillows and promptly shipped them to Albuquerque. The rest of the day, however, was defined by my relentless search for a replacement pillow. It wasn't until we reached Tyler and I made a dinner run to Olive Garden for take-out that I discovered the large Bed Bath & Beyond that had just the pillow I needed.

Our drive through Mississippi this morning was relaxing. We stopped at a place called "Shoes Shoes Shoes" that advertised "Clean Rest Rooms" (they were), so it seemed like a good opportunity to shop for footwear.




We passed many locals selling their melons at the side of the road. The most interesting point-of-sale rig was this customized school bus painted in bright John Deere colors. Most others were selling from the beds of rusty pickups.


I couldn't pass up this photo op.


In Vickburg, MS, we stopped to view the Mississippi River and Louisiana on the opposite bank.



Kelly checked out a cannon in this historic Southern town, whose centerpiece is a National Military Park commemorating the 1863 siege and fall of Vicksburg.


The 47-day "Siege of Vicksburg" was a significant Civil War event in which the Union gained control of the entire Mississippi River. The capture of Vicksburg and the simultaneous defeat of Lee at Gettysburg marked the turning point in the Civil War.

It was raining when we arrived in Shreveport late this afternoon, crossed the Red River, and landed in Tyler an hour later. Kelly has already made new friends and been invited to a party in the hotel later this evening. (She declined, of course...) I, on the other hand, am quite content to sit in our modest room and read the phone book.

Tomorrow: The Texas Plains and New Mexico!

Life Lessons - Part 1

Kelly and I are driving back to Albuquerque together. A Florida resident, she's hitching a ride to New Mexico and will fly back after exploring the desert. Unaccustomed as I am to sharing close quarters with a teenager, I am learning a geat deal from her.

1. Grape is the finest of all artificial flavors.
2. Sour Skittles are not all that sour.
3. It's easier to be happy than sad.
4. Life is one big photo op.
5. Unicycling helps expand one's social circle.
6. Snacking could be a competitive sport.
7. Wearing one's hat to bed calms brain waves.
8. Given a choice, even farm girls like to sleep in.
9. The more pillows, the better.
10. Bowling For Soup is a band.

Traveling with Kelly may prove to be very educational, but I'm not sure how I feel about Bowling For Soup.

Tomorrow's agenda includes Alabama, Mississipi, Louisiana and Texas. Seems like a tall order at the moment. I hope to have photos for my next post.

The Sunshine State

Day Three

It's a short 50-mile hop from Mobile to Pensacola Bay. The sight of all that turquoise water reminded me that my dolphin spirit hungers for the sea. The third and last day of my journey blasted a horizontal path across the Florida Panhandle and then carved a straight shot south on I-75 from Lake City to Port Charlotte. 75 was even faster than I'd remembered, and trying to keep up with 90 mph traffic took my breath away. I arrived an hour and a half early due to unavoidable high-speed travel. Driving the speed limit would have been more dangerous than keeping up with traffic. It was only when traffic slowed to 80 just south of Tampa that I loosened my white-knuckle grip.

For the past five days I've been visiting with the parents, force-feeding myself large meals mid-afternoon, and spending inordinate amounts of time sleeping. This morning I went for a long walk on Venice's Caspersen Beach, one of the most beautiful beaches in the U.S.





"The Shark Tooth Capital of the World," Venice is one of the few West Coast Florida cities without a barrier island. Millions of prehistoric shark teeth wash up on the beaches of Venice annually. Sharks of all species continually shed their teeth and grow new ones. They have 40 or more teeth in each jaw. Behind the functional rows of teeth are seven other rows of teeth developing into mature dentures to replace teeth as they are shed or lost. In ten years, an average Tiger shark can produce as many as 24,000 teeth. The fossilized Miocene Epoch shark teeth found on Venice beaches are between 5 and 25 million years old. I find it staggering to think that the little teeth I've found in the sand might be as much as 25 million years old. They don't look a day over 15 million.

I scored an impressive shark's tooth - Mako, I think - in Papa's Bait Shop on the Venice Pier. It would have been more fun to find it free-diving in the Gulf, but it will still make a nice addition to my shark tooth collection, and I can wear this one.

Blew Bayou

Day Two

With the long stretch of Texas high plains behind me, I headed east toward Louisiana and the Deep South (the scary states), tired but hopeful to make Mobile by nightfall. At the Louisiana Welcome Center, I stopped for an hour to dig through the cooler for hard boiled eggs, cinnamon mini-muffins, grapes, and a smoothie. After this tasty picnic repast, I grabbed some zzzzz's in the parking lot, and in a short while was once again cruising down the highway.


Crossing the Mississippi at Vicksburg, MS, the possibility of making Mobile by dark seemed quite doable.


There's something a little creepy about driving through the southern states, especially Louisiana. You just never know what will crawl out of those bayous. I guess I watched too many swamp thing movies in the 50's. Mississippi isn't much better, only in the Magnolia State it isn't reptilian creatures, but state troopers, that scare the bejeezus out of me.

I pulled into Mobile at 6:30, bought a basket of juicy peaches at a roadside stand, rented a deluxe room with jacuzzi, and spent the evening hopping between spa and bed. Thoughts of palm trees and not having to drive anywhere for at least a week lulled me into a deep sleep.

Cowboy Blues

Day One - Continued

The 300 mile drive across the high plains from Amarillo to Dallas took me through small, run-down Texas towns. Endless flat vistas punctuated only by the occasional grain silo made the drive seem much longer. Signs of civilization were absent for much of the ride. In Childress I found a Wal-Mart and stopped for some picnic necessities. It was the only big box store I found for several hundred miles. This in itself makes U.S. 287 a national treasure.



The sun went down before I got to Dallas, home to the World's Worst Drivers.


After 715 miles and a grueling passage through Dallas, I found a room in Terrell, east of the city, at a less-than-desirable Day's Inn. The pickings were slim: this was the third place I'd stopped at and I was prepared to sleep in the car if necessary. Room 162 possessed an unpleasant, palpable aura of humanity sheltered within its walls over the years, and I was happy to have brought slippers so my feet would not have to touch the grimy carpet. I slept only 3 hours, skipped the unremarkable "breakfast" served in a corner of the dingy lobby, and escaped early in the morning bound for Mobile and, with luck, better accommodations.