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 In the next edition of Family Car Trips, take a video tour with us to this beautiful cove nestled below downtown LaJolla, California, just north of San Diego, and to other places in San Diego County that you may want to visit. (photo by Maria Lourdes Curtis).


Return to first part of the story

A Magical Journey (continued)

A Native American who works at the gift shop tells Dean about an ancient site just to the east, the Homolovi ruins state park. Naturally Dean wants to have a look, though it’s getting late. To know Dean is to know that he brakes for all archaeology.
Homolovi Ruins

 All I can say about my first visit to a Native American archaeological site is WOW! I find myself staring down into a “kiva,” a rectangular room the Anazazi Indians built into the desert floor. The roof is long gone, so the kiva looks basically like a basement for one of today’s homes.  Dean tells me about his interest in earth sheltered homes. He says these people knew the value of earth sheltering almost two thousand years ago. The kiva sunk into the earth kept them cool during the scorching desert days and could hold in heat from a fire they built under a rock slab during the cold desert nights. 

 

No doubt the coolest things about this park are the many shards of pottery that lay upon the ground. You can pick them up and examine them, but please put them back down where you found them. Otherwise, you will not only be stealing from a site that is sacred to Native Americans, but you will also be committing a crime and will be punished by stiff fines. The park rangers encourage you to examine the pottery pieces, but once again, leave them were you found them.

 

Atop the ruins we are totally alone with a vast 360 degree view of scenic Arizona at sunset. Nothing I have ever seen has been more magical. The modern world has ceased to exist.

 

However, with darkness almost upon us, we once again board our covered wagon, the Town and Country and head east toward Albuquerque, New Mexico. When we make it over the final range of desert mountains and look down upon the lights of Albuquerque, we’re running very low on gas. We say goodbye to Interstate 40 and stop at a Philips 66, which is selling gas at $2.21 a gallon. There, we load up $39.51 worth of fuel for another run through the desert.

 

Dean likes to get off the interstates. Our plan is to head north, to follow the historic Santa Fe trail east by taking Route 56. On our way toward Santa Fe, the destination point of the old trail, Dean tells me about all the great food I can expect there. I develop a passionate craving for tortilla soup. We tell each other more stories from our youths and sing together whatever songs we can think up a few words to.

 

It is late when we arrive at Santa Fe.  We drive around admiring all the beautiful products of Native Americans and local artists displayed in the windows of the stores.  Fortunately, the stores are all closed, because I know that otherwise I would spend a great deal of time in them and far too much money.  Unfortunately, we have a hard time finding tortilla soup, or even a restaurant that’s still open.  We end up eating a burger and fries at the only place that’s still open, the Atomic Café coffee shop and grill.  Better luck next time.

 

Having decided earlier not to spend money on another motel where we can’t sleep, we park the car on a dark street lined with expensive houses bordering a triangular park.  We easily manipulate the Town and Country’s “Sto-and-Go” seats into their wells in the floor and suddenly have the whole back passenger area to sleep in. To me the area we lay out the comforter in seems to be about the width of queen-sized bed, only longer. I’m definitely anticipating a better night’s sleep than last night in the motel.

 

We have the whole minivan warmed up, thanks to vents from the heater in the rear area of the vehicle.

 

For a moment I worry about a face showing up at one of the windows and staring at us, but as I look up at the windows I’m greeted by an astonishing display of stars unlike anything I ever saw from Manila or Los Angeles.

 

Somehow, the magnitude of the universe pushes my mind toward sleep.

 

December 22nd, 2005

 

Wake like an iceberg to the morning chill.  We drive with the heater blasting, Dean sharing sips of a steaming coffee from a just-opened gas mart. We thaw out just before the break of dawn.  It is wonderful to see the sun peaking through the mountains.

 

Dean decides to take the historic Route 56 instead of taking I-40 all the way to Texas.  He wants to show me uninterrupted vistas in the grasslands rather than those ubiquitous concrete sculptures of neo-Roman civilization, overpasses punctuating the interstate.

 

We reach Springer starving. We immediately spot the Brown Hotel, sporting old-west decor. Turns out this historical landmark offers fantastic food satisfies our hunger and service with many smiles.  It has the ambience of home, with friendly people. Even their utensils are neatly wrapped with Christmas colored napkins. We make a note to stay for a night here sometime. The $60 for your room includes breakfast of your choice. 

 

Leaving our Brown Hotel breakfast, I note snow on the bushes. The air is still cold from the night, but the snow is starting to melt. It is the first time we've seen any snow on this trip to the northern Midwest from sunny Southern California. I stand by the car waiting for Dean to open the back passenger door to get my mukluks (Eskimo boots).  It’s funny that all the doors open except the one I want Dean to open. Because we test drive many vehicles, Dean can't remember which button to push on the remote key control to open the doors. 

Ahhh, northeast New Mexico! Grassland, hawks, and a B1-B on a ground-hugging flyover.  You should see Dean’s face as the B1-B flies over us.  He stops the T&C and tries to take a picture, but the jet is far away by the time the digital camera comes to life. Doesn't matter. He's spotted contrails of two more B1-Bs circling the area at high altitude. Probably out of Dyess Air Force Base in Texas, he speculates. I love this guy’s abundant knowledge and childlike passion.

 

Around noon, we arrive at Clayton, a New Mexico city nearing the border of Oklahoma.  We stop to get gas at Mobil at $2.25 per gallon.  Our fill up costs us $20.02.  We visit the Guest Center to charge our camera and cellphone. The Guest Center's Mr. Hand wants to offer us a helping hand, a guided tour of the region.  He's an Irishman who has grown to love Clayton's beauty (his wife is from Clayton).  We get some maps and buy postcards.

 

We take the opportunity to go around Clayton while the phone and camera are being charged.  One of the oldest hotels there is the Eklund Hotel, where bullet holes from an old west gun battle are embedded in a decorative tin ceiling. Dean satisfies his thirst at the bar with a bottle of Sam Adams beer.  It costs $4 without tip.

 

We leave Clayton and cross the border into the Oklahoma panhandle.  Dean tells me of the Oklahoma land rush.  One day, long ago, thousands of settlers lined up in their wagons along the panhandle's eastern edge, then raced westward as far as the area we're driving through, to stake out claims and establish homesteads. If we could only have something like that happen today!

 

Navigating the Town and Country along traffic free Route 56 through the flat wide-open landscape,  Dean sings songs from the musical "Oklahoma." 

 

Soon we have popped up into southwest Kansas with a goal of reaching Dodge City. Dean wants me to see the recreation of the Old West he knows is there. When we arrive, the fenced off section in the middle of the city is just closing. Perhaps it is just as well, as we are both a little disappointed that the old Dodge City buildings seem more like a tourist mini-mall, or Hollywood set.

 

 

December 23

 

We keep driving through the night.  We've traveled at least 460 miles today.  We decide to sleep in a rest area somewhere in Kansas.  We hang blankets on the window to keep out the glaring light flooding the rest area and help keep warmth inside the car.

 

Rest areas are sometimes tourist spots.  They have a wide diversity of architectural designs, often reflecting local styles, and most importantly in many places they are situated in extremely beautiful locations.  It is good to take a walk along the edges of the rest areas and enjoy the landscapes.   Some rest areas even offer free internet access. 

 

Dean wakes up from a seated sleep in the rest area early at 1:00 a.m.  We still need to cover more ground, as we are behind schedule.  By 2:00 a.m., we roll through Topeka, Kansas.

 

Keep your eyes on this space for the next installment in this series, coming soon. Meanwhile, enjoy some of the preview pictures in the right-hand column.

 

 


LastMinuteTravel.com

TRANSPORT GALORE AT THE HENRY FORD MUSEUM

 

An elegant way to travel...way back when.

 

How families traveled in the 1950s.

 

Marketed as a young man's fancy, these Packard cars were sold for only $867.

 

A stainless round house designed to be the house of the future.

 

How about this for your future car?

 

One of the earliest Harley-Davidson bikes.

 

Transporting goods and people on tracks across the country.

 

It took a President to his citizens.

 

Small coach, owned by Tom Thumb.

 

Let's drive-thru.

 

Fyin' high!

 

MORE SURPRISES ALONG THE WAY HOME

 

Driving pass the lovely buildings of downtown Chicago.

 

Winter in Gen. Grant's Galena, Illinois.

 

Red house in the snow in Iowa.

 

From gray sky in Kansas...

 

To clear sky in Oklahoma.

 

Rest area in NM, Land of Enchantment.

 

Sunset in New Mexico.

 

Sunrise in Arizona.

 

San Francisco mountain "peaking" out.

 

A walk in Walnut Canyon with a deer

 

Rockin' with natural sculpted stone.

Thrifty Rent-A-Car System, Inc.

Watch out for:

It's apple season once more.  The sweet tangy taste of exotic apples led us to drive one recent weekend to Oak Glen in a Lexus SUV.  We enjoyed a hearty breakfast with delicious hot coffee and friendly people, as well as picking bags of apples and picking up yummy apple treats and art objects.