From Santa Rosa, NM to Guymon, Ok

Sunday March 15, 2015 Comfort Inn Room 219 Guymon, Oklahoma

On the road yesterday by 930 and headed east on I 40 toward Tucumcari. There are mesas and plateaux in the Northeast corner of New Mexico so the landscape is still somewhat interesting. This is Union Pacific territory and I’m always amused by the huge American flags on their locomotives and patriotic slogans on some of their cars but the cargo boxes they transport are filled with Asian imports picked up at various ports and carried throughout the country.

At Tucumcari we had the choice of following old 66 through the town or going to the Main Street. We opted for the latter, having seen so many towns devastated by the loss of 66 and we’ve seen the empty restaurants and motels here before. The downtown is worse—it is dirty and desolate and broken down and doesn’t have the neon signs to at least provide nostalgia. It is a sad, poor town. It does have an old man of the mesa as you arrive from the West however and one huge pinwheel.

At the east end of town we turned northeast through Logan, the home of Ute Lake, it’s only claim to fame, so far as we could see. On to Nara Visa whose existence, as the historical sign indicates, is the result of a spur of the Rock Island Line coming through. But, once more, the significance of the railroad has diminished and so has the importance of the town. The high school and gym are two beautiful buildings, set outside the pretty dead town,and used now as the community center, but it seems the community must be far outside the village. The 2000 census shows a population of 112. The name comes from the family, whose name was used as the original town name—Narvarez—seems none Spanish speakers sort of mangled its pronunciation and it stuck.

Here, four miles from the Texas line the topography changes drastically to flat, flat, flat and dry. We found the paving method rather interesting—I guess it is a cost effective savings of blacktop—just put it where the tires go. The outlying high plains from Dalhart, Texas are filled with feed lots. The first one on my side did not smell too badly but as we passed another large outfit on Bill's side we discovered that we were upwind of the first and most assuredly downwind of the second. OMG, one of the worse odors in the world—thousands of head of cattle consolidated in a small space make for a mighty odiferous atmosphere. Dalhart seemed a company town—Cargill. On the other side of town we continued through the high plains of West Texas. Mirages, beautiful farms separated by miles (  one of which with a beautiful tree lined drive was for sale) and lots of flat, flat, flat grazing land. One road leaving the highway and extending for miles into the open land was named East Lonesome Lane—someone has a sense of humor or despair—not sure which. I’d go mad. And the wind blows even  on a day as lovely as ours. Some of the fields were irrigated so the yellow grass in them was a lovely shade of green.

Bill and I noticed two years ago, that as soon as the border between New Mexico into the panhandle of Oklahoma was crossed all the fields were green. Well, that is true crossing into the panhandle from Texas, too. Still the land is so flat that you can see for miles—we saw Boise City five miles before we reached it. I laughed and said if they have an old fashioned 4th of July with fireworks in Boise City they could be seen 50 miles away in any direction. Not sure though, if they’d do that—prairie fires move quickly, especially with a bit of wind.

We stopped in Boise City at No Man’s Land jerky—our primary reasons for coming this way to Guymon. They were closed but posted a sign that the jerky was available in the Love’s across the street or back west at Moore’s market. We went back to the market and bought lots of the stuff. It is some of the best we’ve ever had. Plus Bill wanted to pick the guy’s brain about making it, since he makes it using the dehydrator I bought him several years back.

Though it was tempting we didn’t break into it since our next stop was Eddie’s Steakhouse in Guymon. Three miles out of town I was watching a herd of horses coming up on my side and one really caught my eye. Its back seemed so deformed and I just kept staring at it. As we drew closer I said to Bill look at that poor—oh, my goodness, it’s a camel!  We stopped and backed up. The camel was curious and started slowly toward the fence while continuing to graze. I spoke to it and asked it to hold its head up—it did, half way. Then I said, come on, give me a nice profile and with a strange sort of moaning sound it did. LOL  Figured I’d bothered it enough so we moved slowly off, I asked the horses if they’d noticed the camel among them and the gray looked at me with a look that said, Lady, you’re an ass. As we drove back onto the road, I noticed two buffalo farther out on the prairie.

Continued into Guymon and Eddie’s. It was open at 4 but the kitchen wouldn’t be open until 5. That was fine –we had one of the most fun evenings and meals we’ve had in a long time. Only one lady was there—Kim—a grade school teacher in a nearby town. We chatted about kids and teaching and salaries—Oklahoma is 48 th in the nation and doesn’t attract many applicants for any opening.We laughed about kids we’ve had, experiences we’ve had with administrations and parents –at times we were hysterical with laughter. Soon we were joined by Shelby, who is an Osage on one side and a Seneca-Cayuga on the other. We spoke of the Iroquois Nation about which she knew little, though she did know that the Indian in the Cupboard was a Seneca. And then Julie arrived. She is a teacher as well although she is now an administrator for Federal programs, primarily for literacy, and is no longer in the classroom Needless to say the question of reading and stories about kids again had us laughing uproariously. We also chatted about Eddie, who was not there. Two years ago he had told Bill and me that he wanted to retire but that his two boys are settled in careers—an orthodontist and a real estate man in Dallas—and have no interest in taking over the restaurant. Since we saw him Eddie has become quite ill with COPD and can’t walk across the room unassisted. He went to Florida last week to try an experimental stem cell transplant procedure but the doctor is not terribly optimistic. Eddie felt it was worth the try. Kim said that the staff put an article in the local paper about the situation and the phone has been ringing off the hook and the restaurant has been swamped. It has been a landmark steakhouse for 35 years and it may be that if he doesn’t recover it may be gone. It would be so sad for us, so I imagine the community must be very sad, too. While we ate several diners came into the dining room and I heard two or three ask Kim or Julie about Eddie and his health. A gentleman came into the bar and we got talking—he thinks we’ve met there before and that may be. He has a winter home in Casa Grande,  near Phoenix and lives in Rochester , Minnesota. He is on his way home and Guymon is half way between his two homes so he stops going and coming. He was sad to hear of Eddie’s condition, too.

He didn’t come to Guymon through ShowLow this time though we chatted about the Salt River Canyon. Apparently, the River runs right through Phoenix. He offered to take me through on his motorcycle—he’s 75 for Pete’s sake—I told him he was just too kind. This whole conversation provided the three ladies, Bill and I and Mr Minnesota even some more hilarity. Soon our meals were done, we’d had our last Shiner, saw the old lockers in the backroom in which patrons stored their own bottles when this was a private club, said good night to all and headed out.

Bill and I admired our Minnesota friend who’d left Casa Grande that morning at 2 am and covered the same territory that we took three days to cover. Held the door open for two older ladies arriving for dinner and knew that things were going to get busy for Kim,Shelby and Julie, since there were already several parties there, several had called to make reservations and two more customers were on their way in. We truly hope they’ll be here next year and that Eddies will still be open and that Eddie will have been able to return to his table from which he’s always greeted his customers.

When we woke this morning we decided we liked our room and wanted to just veg for the day. So we renewed our reservation, did the laundry, read the Sunday papers, I took a long leisurely shower instead of the usual in and out and hit the road. Watched a couple of futbol games and the Wisconsin-Michigan basketball game. Now there is a special on tornadoes, just what I want to watch while in Oklahoma. But, tv is okay tonight. Tomorrow, it is back on the road to Texas and several days checking out some new places.

So, hoping all is going well with all of you—two of you are out in Palm Springs, San Diego area enjoying the sun and warmth, others are still in the deep freeze but it seems there are a few bare spots and the snow is melting a bit. Even the temps have risen above freezing at least during the day. All sounding good for our return, reluctant on my part, but Bill gets antsy around this point so there is probably just about two weeks left before we are heading due North.

Trying not to think about it . Until next time, good night from the Two Traveling Peas

Deserted Bosque, Old Towns and Clouds

Friday March 13,2015 Quality Inn Room 122 Santa Rosa, New Mexico

A little hard getting up this morning—this West and Daylight Savings Time have been playing havoc with our internal clocks. We were in NM when it jumped ahead, but then we went to Az which didn’t jump ahead but California did. So California and Arizona were both three hours different than home, but then we returned to New Mexico yesterday and lost an hour. It will be worse tomorrow when we lose yet another hour. Then we should settle down for a bit before losing the last hour that will bring us back to EST.

So, anyway, I finally rolled out of bed around 8 and managed to get to breakfast fifteen minutes before it ended. We’d decided yesterday that we would cross over to Carrizozo and head up to Vaughn and on to Santa Rosa today. Tomorrow we will continue to Tucumcari and up to Clayton before going into Oklahoma—going to Guymon to see if Eddie is still running his steakhouse and also to find our favorite jerky store on the way.

This is our first trip to Santa Rosa and Tucumcari since our third trip, although we left New Mexico through Clayton two years ago. Got there by way of Santa Fe. Since we wouldn’t be driving a long distance today we decided to make one last trip this year to the Bosque.

We came to Socorro three times this year and I’m beginning to feel like this little area with K-Bob’s and the Exxon station on the corner is almost home. As we traveled Rt 1 between San Antonio and the Refuge we came upon a group of mule deer with a male escort.

Today’s trip to the Bosque was not disappointing but it was different—the hello and good-bye herons were no where to be seen, the hawk’s population has diminished, the snow geese and sand cranes are all gone, including the straggler of a week or so ago. We didn’t see the javelina at all and the trees are beginning to leaf out. There are a few remaining Canada geese and as we drove over a newly opened road we could hear their strident discussion of whether to leave now or stay a few more days. I distinctly heard one goose exclaim that there was still snow on the ground up north and a few more days wouldn’t hurt. Another raised his voice over hers and said if they waited it would be in the low 80’s by the time they reached Nebraska and the rest of the trip would be hell. Another guy opened and flapped his wings as if to imply cooling off—the speaker, noticing, informed him that showing his pits wasn’t going to do much cooling. Don’t know how they voted but in another part of the refuge we found scattered pairs feeding and bathing and seemingly content to remain.

In the area where hello heron usually held court we came across a beautiful hawk dining on his recently captured rodent’'. Though he was aware of us, he kept a close eye as he continued to eat. It wasn’t until a Texas truck came up rapidly that he decided it was getting too crowded and off he flew with the little bit left. We came to the distant fields that once were full of snow geese, Canada geese and the original group of deer we saw on our first visit this year. None of them were there so we took another spur that has been opened to an area recently flooded—a big lake has been formed and it was filled with ducks and in the far distance the aforementioned debating geese, not visible but definitely audible.

Each time we are in the Refuge I find something else new and today the forms of the trees caught my eye. Mostly cottonwood and some quite old and twisted. I think I noticed them more this time since there wasn’t the wildlife—though today there was a snowy egret and two cormorants who were having an amorous rendez-vous. He had been displaying as we arrived but moved over to another branch and decided to preen rather than have their intimate moment observed.

Usually I am sad to leave the Refuge but today it somehow seemed right—the birds have headed north and I took it as a sign that it is time for us to think about doing the same. One of the Rangers in the Petrified Forest was from Nebraska and he told us his family had said about 75000 sand cranes had already arrived there. He said once they all migrate to the summer grounds the number will exceed 235000.( BTW, the Ranger is Organ Pipe was Jimmie Pond from Texas)

When we had lunch with Jim Rader the other day we mentioned Carrizozo to him and he asked what Carrizozo was. It is one of those crossroad places in New Mexico. When you arrive at the traffic light form Socorro you can go straight ahead over Capitan to Lincoln and on to Roswell, or turn right and go to Tularosa, Alamogordo, Las Cruces and El Paso, go back to Socorro and on to Arizona or turn left and go to Vaughn, another crossroads.

We’d done three of the four choices already this trip so it was to the left and Vaughn. The route follows the Union Pacific north-south line. There are a couple of old mining ghost towns in the mountains along the way but we’ve learned by trying to go to several that the roads are not truly passable for the fancy cars we drive—well maybe not that fancy but lower slung and two wheel drive than is very sensible to travel unmaintained old mining roads.It seems the road we were traveling is being widened into a four lane road—I hate it—but it was still beautiful.

The clouds were incredible today—I love the sky and clouds as those of you who have traveled with us before know. One of our favorite classes was one on meteorology that Bill and I took at NH Community College. It was taught by an Army Major from CRREL—Major Quilliam, second in command. Those cute little cumulus clouds are the precursors of an impending front. I felt like we were driving under and alongside a little alien army of white puffy spacecraft. As they moved forward they began to overtake each other and a traffic jam formed. The vehicles in the back started to overtake the forward guard and meld with them. As they plowed into each other the forward motion slowed and they began to rise up higher forming the beginning of thunderheads. We could see vega streams in the distance where the excess water of the combining and rising clouds was forced out of them and the wind began to rise.

Soon we were in Vaughn, where the Union Pacific and Fred Harvey had built a beautiful railroad station and one of the biggest and fanciest of Harvey Houses. I’m not sure the depot is the original and the Harvey House is long gone. The empty old motels and restaurants speak to the time when this was a major hub of rail and truck traffic and tourist as well. The BNSF line crosses the UP here, headed from Roswell to Belen in the West. Even though the days of stopovers has passed there are still five roads radiating out from the town. Here one can choose to return to Carrizozo, go west to Belen south of Albuquerque,go southeast to Roswell, or east to Clovis or, as we did, go north to =Santa Rosa ( and connect with I 40 or old 66, which it has covered. Along the whole route from Carrizozo  to Santa Rosa we passed through four towns, three barely there and one a shell of former glory.

Santa Rosa is itself, in town center, pretty much a ghost town too, having died with the death of 66. But the eastern end of town is built up with new motels if not new restaurants and we pulled into the Quality Inn—same rating as the Comfort--$20 cheaper and right across the road! Bill walked over to the Mexican restaurant but I felt like a tuna sandwich which I mixed up and used to fill a pita bread. A glass of Cab and some pistachio cookies and I am all set.

Bill is watching the Providence/Villanova game so will read USA Today until Blue Bloods. Soon we will be in Oklahoma hopefully savoring a truly excellent steak, with compliments from Eddie—otherwise, if he retired and closed it may be Pizza Hut order in. Until tomorrow, take care –The Two Traveling Peas

Goodbye Arizona, Goodbye Desert, Goodbye Cacti

Thursday March 12, 2015 Comfort Inn Room 320 Socorro, New Mexico ( AGAIN!)

Had trouble getting to sleep last night because I started to second guess the mountain route I’d chosen from southern Arizona to Mid New Mexico. The drive from Florence to Globe yesterday wasn’t too bad, but it was a much shorter mountainous road. This one, while looking pretty benign on the map,covered 66 miles of absolutely nothing before reaching Carrizo. But, Bill was asleep and so I couldn’t discuss backtracking and taking I 10 to Deming and up the Rio Grande Valley to Socorro. So, I went to sleep at last. When I mentioned  reversing our route, Bill said we could do that, but he was reluctant.

Oh, hell, I thought—it can’t be worse than the Gallinas and perhaps, with luck and lots of Hail Marys, it wouldn’t be as bad. So after a breakfast of coffee and grapefruit, I gathered a scarf to use as a blinder and off we went through Globe to route 60 West. It was not reassuring to see that there was an accident 35 miles up the road ( the sign was hung across the very beginning of the 66 miles ) but hoped it would be cleared up by the time we reached the site.

Those first 35 miles were easy—we went through the mountains instead of over them—so the drop offs were not any deeper than what we have at home and the scenery was beautiful. Arrived as a tow truck blocked the road before us. They were pulling up huge blue and pink pipes that looked like PVC piping—big bundles, obviously a truck’s load lost on this slight downgrade. No curve involved,no other vehicles around other than the emergency crew’s. At the pullout an empty flatbed was attached to a tow truck also. The windshield was blown out on the passenger side of the cab and the driver’s side was that awful spider web pattern that shatterproof glass makes when heavily impacted. No evidence of the driver—hope he survived and wasn’t seriously hurt. A very chilling sight.

Little did I know what awaited us just up the road—Salt River Canyon--7000+ feet at the top. We descended over 2000 feet on a twisting road—fortunately, most of the curves were not tight though there was a 35mph hairpin curve that was not a treat. Since the open side of the canyon was on Bill’s side ( the road was fairly wide, with passing lanes on upgrades and pullouts for slower cars ( us ) to let the nutsy natives get by, I was able to look at my side and a bit forward. At one point we had a tanker truck behind us and Bill crossed the road to a pullout which made me nervous but it was better to follow the truck than have him breathing down our necks.

Eventually we reached a rest area at what I thought was the end of the canyon—well, it was the end of our descent, still at least 300 feet above the river, which Bill tells me had water in it—i wouldn’t know. Once we crossed the canyon on a pretty bridge, the real nightmare began—the ascent of the opposite side with the drop-off on my side. Okay, up came the scarf over that side of my face. Just like blinders it worked—i didn’t panic, looked out Bill’s side and once in awhile peeked out the windshield until be got up to 7752 feet and the narrow end of the canyon and closer rock walls.

It took about 30-40 minutes for the whole canyon crawl but the rest of the 66 miles was uneventful and beautiful. It took us 2 hours to cover 80 miles but we arrived safely in ShowLow where we got gas and checked in with Hatch Toyota to see if we needed an oil change since we’ve put over 5000 miles on the car. Since we use synthetic oil we don’t need a change until 10000 miles.

Continued on the familiar road to Springerville and through the yellow grass prairie, watching the strange cloud formations and the veils of rain and probably snow falling all around us. We did have a bit of drizzle but nothing heavy. It seemed strange to see all the green on the Globe side of the mountains and the dormant trees and parched grass on the Springerville side The 84 degrees of Ajo is also a memory since the temperature went down to 51 in the mountains with patches of snow all about. Oh, yes, it is goodbye desert.

Soon we entered New Mexico once more, crossed the 35 mile wide Plains of San Augustin with the Very Large Array dwarfed by distance and mountains. Through Magdalena, once the railhead where cattle drives ended and where the cattle were transferred to cattle cars for delivery to market. Round a few more hills and valleys and in Socorro once more. Four hours and almost 300 miles from Globe. K-Bob for steak, sweet potato and broccoli and into our suite for the night.

Now The Blacklist is on so I’m signing off until next time. Goodnight from the Two Traveling Peas.

Leaving Ajo, Meeting Jim, Over the Mtns to Globe, Az

Wednesday March 11, 2015 Travelodge Room 117 Globe, Arizona

Got up this morning around 8 am and checked for an email from Bill’s brother-in-law, Jim. Nada, so checked the phone and there was no call either. Decided to call him around 8:30 to see if lunch was still on. Didn’t know what to plan for a reservation for tonight—would we be late enough after lunch to backtrack to Casa Grande, or, if lunch was off, would we forge ahead to Taylor, or, if lunch was done early enough, would we head to Globe?  We got packed and dressed then Bill called Jim, who had sent an email!  BUT, he got the address from Fixit Fred who said it was dot com when it is dot net. Well, we got it straightened out and it was decided that we’d meet at 1 pm in Florence, Arizona at Jalapenos. Phew—never had so much confusion trying to set up a lunch date in my life.

Went down to Marcella’s for breakfast once more. Today there was freshly made strawberry jam for our sourdough. Oh, it is really Spring here. Took one last spin around Ajo to see the school and the Cordelia Hotel, which is NOT open but does appear to be undergoing renovation. Amazing to realize what a booming community this was—two huge beautiful churches, a gigantic school and hospital, a fancy hotel and even fancier plaza—all built by the mining money garnered from the huge mine from which incredible amounts of copper were withdrawn. And then, in about 1920, it all went bust and in 2008, almost all these beautiful places sat empty and sad. Now, that beautiful school is the site of reasonably priced artists’ studios and apartments. Life of a different sort but at least life once more. I hope I see it again but if not, I have wonderful pix from both visits.

Then we headed down to Why and drove past the new, huge Border Patrol station. Followed a couple of officers and their mounts for awhile—they continued toward Lukeville and we turned away toward the Tohono O’Odham Indian Reservation and Indian Rte 15 at Quijotoa, which would carry us northward toward Casa Grande. The flowers are so plentiful they cover the ground like a carpet. Since yesterday another new pink flower has come into bloom. Some kind of raptor soared above us, wings spread wide and gliding. Passed a strange looking mining operation before coming to our first Border Patrol check point. These three officers were Anglo and much more talkative. I spoke to one young man and the female dog handler about the makeshift pergola they’d created with chicken wire and an ivy like plant. I asked if it kept them cool and they laughed and said no, but it did keep out the sun a bit. The German Shepard was lying quietly and seemingly uninterested at his lady’s feet. From my experience at the Vt Border I know one word from her and he would be instantly alert.  It was nice to talk with them—reminded me of my old Customs’ days.

Soon we passed through Casa Grande, Coolidge and as we turned onto the Main Street of Florence the restaurant loomed on our right. As we walked in there was Jim talking with someone by the door. He’d arrived a bit before us—but we were there between 1230 and 1 as planned. He’d taken a table in the back for us. Got ourselves settled and the waiter from New Jersey!!! ( it began with the Internet and a woman, said he, but we’ve been together for 14 years—his response to my “ How did you wind up here?” )  I had a Taco salad which was quite good, though not really seasoned at all. Bill and Jim had a chicken enchilada plates with beans and rice. I had a delicious raspberry tea and Bill had a diet coke. Had a good catch-up rambling conversation—travel plans and family and where we’ve been and where we’re going.  Good to see Jim, who looks quite well.

Once we finished lunch we checked the map and decided to go to Globe. There was once a Quality Inn here but no more. There are several nice places here according to our navigation system and when we arrived we found it to be accurate in that regard. For the second time, however, it has told us there is a Choice motel where there is not—will have to find out from our manual whether, like our Garmin, this system can be updated.

Although the road runs between the Pinal Mountains and the Superstition Mountains and is quite snaky, there are few deep drop offs and they were on Bill’s side. For the most part we traveled through Devil’s Canyon and along Oak Flats. Oak Flats is at 4000 ft and we dropped down about 1000 feet and then rose once more to 4000 feet before coming down to rest in Globe at 3509ft.

Both Miami and Globe were mining towns—silver but then much more, copper. Though the mining is pretty much over the scars of the huge, huge pits remain. No reclamation like you find in West Virginia. Mountains have been reduced to terraced walls of a large pit. It is ugly. But the cows graze on the terraces in some places. The mines out here can be seen from miles away—it is obscene.

This is a new area of Arizona for us and tomorrow we will travel 66 more mountain miles in unfamiliar territory. There are two small dots and a ghost town shown on the map before we reach Carrizo which we’ve visited before out of ShowLow. That 25 miles is a gorgeous crossing of a high mountain valley on the Apache Reservation. Bill wants to push as far as Socorro, New Mexico. We’ll see how bad the road is—whether it will be easy to continue on the old familiar easy route through Pie Town and Magdalena.

For that story, you, like me and Bill will have to wait until tomorrow night. For now, I’m off to do the nails I didn’t get to last night. Too full after our Mexican lunch to eat anything but some fruit and maybe a piece of cheese. Until next time, good night from The Two Traveling Peas

Valleys,Desert, Dunes and Irrigated Imperial Valley

Tuesday March 10.2015 La Siesta Motel Cabin 17 Ajo, Arizona

To continue—on Sunday the 8th, when we emerged from our motel in Kingman we found that the Coors Pole Car had been joined by Cheese-It 16!  ( Found in Monday’s paper that this car was raced in Las Vegas with Greg Biffle driving. It was the Kobalt 400, part of the Nascar Sprint Cup and he came in 14th)

Headed west out of town and down the grade into the long Golden Valley that extends about five miles across to the mountains. We’ve traveled this road before so I didn’t take any pictures til we came to the 12 mile 6% grade descent into Bullhead City. We’ve come from the West along this road but never down the steep side before.

At Bullhead we crossed the Colorado to Laughlin which is right at that pointy southern end of Nevada. Continued along the main drag past all the beautiful casinos and then into the desert along the Colorado. Somewhere along the line we crossed into California though there never was any indication of it until we noticed the cars were mostly California plates. When we reached Needles, another Rt 66 remnant. Interestingly enough the roads on both sides of the river are route 95. We stayed on the California side since it is not built up—no Lake Haversu City,etc. But it is miles and miles of dusty, barren desert. Once in awhile a beautiful flower or interestingly shaped mountain breaks the monotony. Once in Blythe, irrigation is evident and a man-made oasis of cultivated fields and palm trees of all sorts appear. Imagine crossing this area before these watered places existed!!!

From Blythe we continued southwest through more desert and expensive gas. California never gives anyone a break—even in its most desolate places they still make you pay. I’ve come to the conclusion that the three most precious, self-absorbed States are California, Texas and Vermont. And each of them at one time or another was an independent Republic—they’ve never lost that sense of independence even after joining the rest of the lesser parts of this nation.

Soon we came to an area that was fenced with a barrier topped with barbed wire. Hard to say what it was. The map showed an extensive Air Force firing range but there were no signs indicating that—the no trespassing signs were not the usual Government or military signs. The area looked like the walls of a huge open pit mine, but nothing labeled it as such and there was no indication on the map. One thing for sure, it isn’t a preserve for the desert tortoise so don’t toss any over the fence!

In Glamis we came to the largest area of sand dunes in California—The Aldogones Dunes that run for 40 miles along the base of the mountains and are at least 5 miles wide. One side of the road in the Imperial Recreation area is preserved and off limits to any hiking or mechanized travel. The other side, however, is open to dune buggies and there were several having a great time, doing wheelies ect. I recognize them from some Steve McQueen movie but I guess they were also in Star Trek VI, Return of the Jedi.

Somewhere in this area I missed the country road we were going to take due south to I 8 back to Yuma. Think we would have missed the dunes if I’d noticed it so was glad for the error. Was even happier when I realized that I would see part of the Imperial Valley that my Dad spoke of often. He talked of the damage done to the Colorado when the American Canal was built to bring its waters into this desert valley to create huge truck farms by the Imperial Land Company. By this diversion of the river’s water the Colorado does not flow above ground in Mexico any longer.

It is a beautiful valley though and supplies so many fruit and vegetable products to the rest of the country. We saw new corn seedlings, other corn plants at least mid leg high, sugar beets, cabbage, onions, red lettuce, grasses and a few orange trees as well as date palms. The cole crops are so dense you can’t walk between the rows!!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Imperial_Valley

We soon reached Holtville and I 8, which runs right on the Mexican border—those white fences with chains that you see mark the border. We turned southeast and followed it back across the Colorado and into Yuma, Arizona where we spent the night.

Yesterday we weren’t sure how we wanted to proceed East—go to Tucson and through the mountains?  Hang up toward Phoenix and call our brother in law? Start back up toward Kingman and maybe go up to Page from Flagstaff and see Antelope Canyon?  I decided that I wanted to return to Ajo and go back to Organ Pipe National Monument. We’ve avoided it because it is only 9 miles from Lukeville and the border but I’ve heard that the sleepy almost deserted town that had been a vital mining town has been turned into an artist colony—sort of like Bisbee ect. The large school which sat empty seven years ago has been turned into artist studios and apartments. So off we went on I 8 to Gila Bend and then down toward the border once more.

There are alcoves in between the small barren mountains. Each alcove contains a natural desert cactus garden with scattered wildflowers providing splashes of color. Being this close to Mexico there are many Border Patrol Stations and these days there are young German Shepard officers working along with their handlers. We’ve only had to stop when returning north from the border and never detained once we proclaimed our citizenship.

First thing we did was to check into La Siesta Motel—this time we have a cabin but had a front room seven years ago. The cabin is tiny—smaller than our bedroom at home but really cute and cozy, though the TV reception stinks!!LOL Notice the age of the TV—lol

After getting our food into the fridge we tooled around a bit—town is certainly more crowded. The plaza is filled with cafe and gift shops etc. Lots of Mexican insurance sellers—they were only at the border in the past. An IGA, two gas stations, several new RV parks and a car repair shop—all new. But the liquor/tobacco store( Indulgence ) sits empty and forlorn—for sale. The restaurant where we used to eat dinner is out of business, too. It is so crowded that you can’t get a nice shot of the historical churches that are so beautiful—nor the school, nor the old Cornelia Hotel which is open again. We found a new place—though I think its been here awhile and the sign is not taken care of—and had a burger and a Panini. Another couple asked for desert and the waitress said that the restaurants in town all agreed to go healthy so the only place for pizza is the Pizza Hut ( that was here 7 years ago—so some residents must still go for unhealthy) and that ice cream is only available at the IGA. The bakery does, apparently, have some sticky stuff.  Oh, poor old Ajo—the nuevo hippies have arrived—the soup nazi had nothing on the artists of Ajo.

Returned to the motel  and vegged and enjoyed the patterns the palms made on the blinds on windows and doors.Lots of phone calls—trying to reach Betsy for her birthday but only succeeding in playing phone tag. Chatted with my nephew and his wife for awhile. Then Bill’s brother Fred called so we spoke with him a bit. He gave us Jim the brother in law’s phone number. But before we had a chance to call Jim, he called us!!!!! Fred the Fixer emailed him our phone number and address—wish he’d butt out. Kind of left in the air whether we will be able to hook up with Jim before we leave Arizona.

Today, we started our day at Marcela’s—saw no baked goods nor did I smell anything baking—for breakfast. This is the only place I can get chorizo served on shredded lettuce for breakfast and wonderful sourdough toast. The orange juice and coffee are awful but this is the only game in town for breakfast—just as it was 7 years ago. Passed the Ranchouse Restaurant where we used to eat dinner—so sad to see it closed.

Spent most of the day in Organ Pipe National Monument—the best park for a huge variety of different types of cactus. So glad we returned—I’d forgotten just how beautiful it is. Stopped at Olsen’s IGA on the way back to the room and picked up some frozen fruit bars, more cheese and two beautiful peppers. The red one was 59 cents and the yellow 49 cents—sold by the piece not the pound—incredible prices.

Jim had texted us –how do you text??? Took me forever to get a message typed and couldn’t figure out how to make a space. Have to hit a button several times to get the right letter—just a pain. Anyway we called him back. He’s checking out restaurants in Casa Grande and will email us an address of one where we’ll meet him tomorrow. Guess we’ll stay in Casa Grande tomorrow night. Too confusing for me. Oh, well.

Finished my sandwich and V-8 so think I’ll close—get settled in and do my nails while watching NCIS on the snowy TV. Still have my Mardi Gras nails—they are finally chipping—plus my nails have grown a quarter inch so have a bare nail at the base. Not a good look.

Will let you know how the meeting works out—for now—good night, sweet dreams. The Two Traveling Peas, Kathy and Bill

Lots of Traveling in The Past Week

Monday March 9, 2015 La Siesta Motel Cabin 17 Ajo,Arizona

While in Gallup made my annual visit to Perry Null Trading.  I had made a list of items in which I had some interest before going over there. The items were listed on their website and when I asked to see them, Angel and Mel told me that they were in a special mail order room and not in the display cases in the store. Well, who knew how easy that would make my shopping. Angel took me there and the young lady in charge just pulled the item up on the computer, went to a drawer and pulled it out. Eureka. I got Bets a birthday gift, a Christmas gift, got lapis earrings for me and a beautiful turquoise earring and necklace set. Then, returning to the showroom, I found a lovely lapis necklace, which completes my lapis set. Had Betsy’s birthday gift sent home and it arrived at our PO this morning, right on time. Of course, with the new reduced hours at the PO she probably won’t be able to get it until Saturday.

Needed something for Betsy’s gift so went to Thunderbird Supply on West Rte 66 but they didn’t have it. Found some copper beads that were so reasonable, I picked up a few for her to use when she makes earrings. Wish I could take her there, she’d find so many things she’d like. They have tubes of seed beads for $1 in just about any color you can imagine. If I did beading I’d get one of every color.

Continued out to Window Rock and the Navajo Nation Museum. I’ve wanted to go for years. It is laid out so beautifully. An art gallery , followed by a gallery devoted to the Long March of over 400 miles from Canyon de Chelly, where the Navajo tried to avoid the soldiers led by Kit Carson and sent by Andrew Jackson to round the up and move them to an area less desirable to the whites. Bosque Redondo at Fort Sumner in New Mexico is as different as desert and forest. There was no way for the Navajo to farm and when the soldiers provided them with bacon and flour they had no idea how to cook them so they mixed the flour with water and ate it that way and ate the bacon raw. As a result many got very sick and many died of starvation. That was of those that made it to Redondo, since many died making the trek,especially since Kit was brutal and vicious in the drive. In time, after many treaties the tribe, severely depleted, were allowed to return to the Canyon. The Navajo Nation is as large as Ct but still, much smaller than the original homeland. Kit Carson died one month before the signing of the treaty, which was administered by General Sherman.

The last area dealt with the Navajo who signed the treaty but by then, having read all of the displays, including those dealing with the effort to destroy the culture of the Navajo by sending their young men to boarding school in Carlisle Pa and forcing them to cut their hair and wear white men’s type clothing. The girls were kept in Arizona but they too went to the  BIA schools and learned how to be “ white young ladies” in dress and deportment. When Barb and I were at the Canyon last fall, Mr Henry said he went to the reservation school until high school and had never gone to school with white students nor had he ever seen a black person.

We headed back to Gallup from Window Rock and dinner at Applebee’s where we met Travis and Vera, descendants of the Chief. As Travis said, from one of his 13 wives!  We talked about many things including the name of sports teams that are reflective of Native Americans, such as the North Dakota Fighting Sioux, The Florida Seminoles, The Washington Redskins.Both of them said it is ridiculous to force the teams to change their names, since, in their opinion, the names were chosen to honor the Indian. Travis pointed out that the Redskins originated in Boston and chose the name to honor their coach, who was Native American. I, of course, have always objected to Notre Dame being called the Fighting Irish and told Travis that.

There was some discussion of the people who have a drop of Native blood being called Native. When a team of obviously primarily black heritage were to play in a Native tournament, he almost wanted to ask to see their CIP cards. The brother and sister spoke of their family and how close they are. We met two of their nieces and a new baby boy, a great nephew. All in all, we had a wonderful evening. When we were leaving, Vera asked where we were headed and we said back to our room. I think they were surprised but when I told them that we are old birds, they were even more amazed. LOL

On Friday there was a photo of Hilary taken before she retired from the office of Secretary of State—I’ll hand it to her—she used the past two years well in getting back into shape. Lost weight, redyed and restyled her hair, obviously had a face lift if not more work, bought new clothes and jewelry. She’s probably going to get after Billy Boy this year, too, or she’ll be sending him out of country on a charity tour for awhile. Now, if she can come up with explanations and revelations of secret emails and money from countries she won’t give special favors to as president, maybe she’ll run. Hopefully, she’ll have something more substantial to say than “ Isn’t it time we had a woman president?” It may be but I think her time is past, She’s too old and has too much baggage—unless she has convinced women in this country that the only important thing is to have a woman in the White House—stranger things have happened.

After getting past the thought of her as President we moved westward toward Arizona. Took the road to Holbrook through the beautiful Painted Desert. When the rest of the country was getting beaten with snow storm after snow storm the  West and Southwest received heavy rains. It certainly made a difference here, since things had greened up and flowers were scattered on the desert floor. Around Whipple Point, which I photographed from every angle for my friend Joyce, who is a Whipple, as opposed to a Whipple-Twing  ( do you remember that conversation when Bill and I were getting married, Joyce?), the first Petrified Tree logs begin to pepper the landscape.

The old Route 66 crosses the park and the indentation is still visible. That area is marked by an old car skeleton—took that shot for my friend, Glen, who loves old cars. Took a few pictures back in Alamogordo for him, too. The train tracks from Holbrook to Gallup also cross the park and I took that photo for my sister in law. Meg, who had taken the LA to Chicago train just a few days earlier.

In the front of the museum at the exit from the park there is a collection of petrified wood and so I took some shots of all the beautifully colorful minerals that replaced the cellulose of the wood over millennia while under mud and water. I have never seen any item made from the wood that has the colors found in these specimens.

As we pulled out of the lot we noticed Doug’s identical twin from California. Those people had taken their Corolla through some heavy duty mud. As we continued through Holbrook, hanging on desperately since 66 was bypassed by I 40 we broke open the Prickly Pear licorice I picked up in the gift shop.

Continued on to Winslow and Bank of the West where we got some more cash. Checked out the Winslow school built like a hogan and the Bulldog that is placed in the middle of a four way intersection like a war monument.  Then on to the motel and the restaurant there called DJ’s. Don’t know if that is where Bud and Gloria had the big hamburgers they told us of, but I’ll tell you—my hamburger was so big, I couldn’t finish my glass of beer I was so full. It was every much as large as the ones at The Owl, in San Antonio, NM.

Met yet another Navajo who chatted with us about his grandfather’s service as a Code Talker, his father’s service in Nam and his brother’s service in Iraq. He had a tattoo on his arm that had a feather for each of his family members who served. He did not mention his own service though he had been a city cop with rank of sergeant in Winslow. He also spoke of his two sons, one of whom is just finishing his degree in law enforcement, the other who is a freshman in high school and made varsity football team and his little girl who will dance in an event in Mesa. There is a great deal of family and closeness among these people. I finished the day by photographing my lapis jewelry—i think it is my favorite.

As we left Winslow The Sacramento Peaks which are the Western sacred mountains to the Dine looked so close. We’d seen them the day before 68 miles away from Flagstaff and they  seemed much closer than that. Now they were closer but still 47  miles away. The spaces here are so large it is difficult to just distance easily. Once we got to Flagstaff and went around he peaks, the bare desert area changed into a National Forest of large pines and ground covered with deep snow.

We descended partway into Williams but were still on the Coconino Plateau until we reached the sweeping descending curves to Ashfork. We followed an antique Ford Falcon for awhile but he kept it at about 50 so we blew by him. Looked at the driver, an old hippie, with white pony tail, probably the same vintage as his vehicle. Shortly after we departed the interstate for old Rte66 through Seligman etc  and on into Kingman.

Headed to the Dam Bar, had Ranchhand sirloins with Dam Red draft, jalapeño biscuits, rice and salad with bleu cheese dressing. Chatted with Mindy, the barmaid for a bit but talked mostly with Ken, who moved here in the 70’s. Told us about the old town before all the Californians, Chicagoites and New Yorkers, ( mostly jerks, says he) moved in. Told some fun stories about the Dam Bar, including the fact that he suggested the name to the owner who has since died. We gave him a Vt license plate and donated one for the bar’s wall—had to—there was already one from NH—couldn’t let that outdo Vermont!

Got back to the motel and there was a Coors Pole Car in a beautiful glass enclosed trailer but it was too dark to get a really good picture. Did photograph the turquoise set though and then to bed.

Speaking of which, I’m getting tired and haven’t eaten since lunch so think I’ll close and tell you about our California roaming tomorrow and about our return to Ajo then, also. So for tonight—goodnight, take care and talk with you tomorrow. The Two Traveling Peas, Kathy and Bill

Journada del Meurto

Wednesday March 4, 2015 Comfort Inn Room 210 Gallup, New Mexico

It seems forever since I’ve written to describe our adventures. Last Saturday morning we rose, had breakfast and started our day by taking a short tour of the oldest part of Alamogordo. We had picked up a brochure at the museum the day before and decided to take the time to twist and turn through three blocks north south and four blocks east west to observe  the oldest houses left in town. All of them were built between 1904 and 1920. The brochure includes twelve dwellings but two of them are gone, one has been turned into a restaurant, another sits empty and forlorn and a third is for sale. The house with the long addition on one side was actually a hospital. All of them seem well preserved, though the one for sale has removed the lovely arched alcoves to the porch and squared them all off—it has lost a bit of character as a result.

The tour began and ended at a large market, on the brochure map listed as Van Winkles IGA but it is now a Lowes. Bill thought it was the building supply company but I’d seen the bakery listed on its fascia. I wanted to check to see if I could find the Mexican peanut candy I love—de la Rosa—and I did find two boxes. We also checked out the Spanish food aisle—we love to cook different types of food and this was so extensive it was hard to choose items. Bill picked up some garlic cubes, much like bouillon, I picked up a brown sugar pyramid. We also got a couple of boxes of gumbo mix—they were a dollar a box so said, what the heck. Got a couple of Zatarain mixes we don’t have at home. Not Spanish but Creole-Cajun, which we also love.  Unfortunately, we'd already gassed up near the motel,since the gas here was $1.98 a gallon. Oh, well, it would have been a savings of about 8 cents! Gas has never been a major expense on our trips, since our cars have always been very efficient and Douglas has not failed us in that regard. He gives us 37 miles to the gallon. We are happy.

And so we headed out of Alamogordo and headed 65 miles south toward Las Cruces—not for any special reason but that we haven’t been down that way in awhile and we like the area. As we passed Holloman we talked about the reduction of forces that has happened—about 800 families according to our cook at the motel, She said the operations have been consolidated and moved to Florida. Many empty houses in town. The German air force trains there , however, and their presence has increased. Barb and I just missed the Oktoberfest they put on each year at the end of September.

Then it was passed the water tank and three mounds that the White Sands brochure list as landmarks, which always makes me chuckle. Notice how the sands are overtaking the fence along the highway. They are moving toward Alamogordo about two inches a year. A dry lake that we’d explored more closely last year sparkled in the welcome sunshine.

We watched the San Andres’ sharp peaks moving ever closer to us as we drove South. Soon we were at the long sweeping approach to the San Augustine Pass, which is filled with communication towers now but fifteen years ago bristled with white windmills at every level.  Up and over and the Mesilla Valley and Las Cruces spread widely at our feet. Made a sweeping U-turn onto I 25 and headed north toward Albuquerque. Within a few miles, however, we left the highway in favor of the local roads going through the ancient pueblos along the lower Rio Grande.

We soon came to Fort Selden, the name of which sounded vaguely familiar to me. When I started to read the historical panels in the museum I realized that I’d heard of it while reading the biography of Gen. MacArthur—American Caesar. Obviously, he predated Obama! We watched a short video presentation in which we were informed that there were two contingents of soldiers assigned here—a Buffalo soldier infantry and a Calvary regiment, which I suppose was white. Interestingly but not surprisingly, there were maybe two pictures of Buffalo soldiers and they were taken in Montana. Actually most of the pictures were from other forts. We’ve been to Craig and Sumner before and they are in the same condition as this one—severely deteriorated. Apparently, once abandoned by the Army the doors, windows and roof materials were carried off by the local residents, leaving the soft adobe exposed to the weather and wind and it has rapidly returned to rubble. Still, it is interesting to imagine the company carrying out their duties in this dusty, remote outpost surrounded by the beautiful mountains.

A small village grew up outside the post offering all the entertainment a bunch of single young men might desire—not very different from some of the bases Barb and I passed in Nevada. Some things never change. Las Cruces lay 20 miles away but at times the guys spent time there. In each place gun fights and stabbings were not unusual and though the fort lay in Apache territory, it was noted that more deaths were the result of drunken brawls than Indian attack. In reading about the Post Surgeon I was struck by the description of bed bug and lice infestations, cholera, etc and the fact that these situations were the result of poor sanitation, diet . Could not help but think of the resurgence of these problems in our country and the fact that indifferent sanitation on the part of some people has reintroduced them. Loved a couple of the recipes but think I’ll forgo trying them. The poem One Room and a Kitchen made me think of my sister-in-law and whether this still holds true?  And how about those helmets and hats so reminiscent of German military gear right into the first World War—don’t usually associate them with our military. Maybe that’s why they’ve been changed?

Once we left this depot we were well on truly on that portion of the Camino Real—or Royal Road—that was designated the Journado del Meurtas—the journey of the dead. I’ve not seen anything this arid anywhere in our travels. Even the deserts of California and Nevada have some moisture in places. Here the Rio Grande is totally dry, the irrigation canals are as well. We know that water is regulated here and that the river goes below ground in many places but how the water becomes available for the fields and nut trees is a mystery to us. We passed only one fenced area with cows and they were truly emaciated. It is impossible to imagine the people travelling this road on foot or wagon—going from Mexico City to Santa Fe. Many must have died without water. No wonder they were so grateful to reach El Moro near Grants.

We  passed through Hatch again. Years ago we arrived and everything but a MacDonald's was closed but all the roadside markets had long bunches of red and green chilies hanging from the porch rafters almost to the ground. The air was so redolent with the smell of hot peppers, our noses ran and our eyes burned a bit. Soon we reached one of the dams on the Rio Grande and the Caballo Reservoir with Caballo Mountains on the opposite shore. On we went through the sand hills into Truth or Consequences named after a TV show!!!

Tired we once more got onto I 25 which was never far away from us. Bill and I had miscommunicated in the morning. I’d told him there was a Comfort Inn in TorC but when he didn’t tell me to make a reservation I assumed he wanted to push on to Socorro. When we stopped at the traffic light in front of the motel, I didn’t say anything, nor did he. As a result we were quite tired by the time we reached Socorro. He then said that when I hadn’t commented on the motel, he assumed I wanted to push on to Socorro. God, after almost 30 years you’d think we’d do a better job of knowing what the other one wanted. Oh, well, he went out to K-Bob’s for dinner and I happily ate my Wedge Salad I’d been carrying around for days and which was now frozen. Finished up the pate and some crackers with it and retired to bed to read. Since there really was nothing on TV, we both went to sleep by 9. Not very usual for me but I went out like a light.

Being in Socorro we could not depart without a trip to the Bosque. Once more up in the dark, breakfast and down to the Refuge. As we were approaching the railroad crossing I saw a freight train headed our way. I hoped we’d get to the crossing before the red lights started flashing for it was one of those that go on forever and we’d be later than I wanted to be to view the wildlife. Fortunately, he was far enough off that we made it across in plenty of time.

We usually head to the south loop first and come around the long way to the exit but since the fellow had seen the cats on the north loop earlier last week we headed out the north loop—where we came upon a huge group of javelina—boars, sows and young. They run away and are really funny to watch, their legs are so short in comparison to the body. Although they supposedly have a vile odor due to scent glands, we’ve not been able to detect it from the car. We watched them awhile and continued on down the road, once they’d all vanished into the brush or at a distance down the path. When we turned back along the same road, they had regathered in the road and along its edge. One little family of three ran right along in front of us before finally getting brave enough to cross over and join the others. Despite their number the only sounds we heard were the singing voices of the redwing blackbirds.

We then continued along our regular path and were greeted by what I’ve come to call our “ hello heron”. It is always along this stretch of road at the canal—I look for it every visit and it is never far from one spot on the canal. As we turned at the far south we came upon one lone javelina boar at the area where we’d first seen them several years ago. In the far fields there were still some snow geese and Canada geese but their numbers were fewer than a week ago—so the northern migration has begun in earnest. Lying in the grass we spotted four or five of the does we’d seen before but their buck was not visible. They did seen to be looking into the brush that was too thick for us to see though well, so perhaps he was near at hand.

As we continued along the Eastern side as usual we played our game of who can spot the hawk first—almost every tree along this path seems to have a hawk surveying the fields. As a matter of fact, we disturbed a rather large one alongside the road who’d had a successful hunt. In great irritation he picked up his prey, flew across the canal and settled in with his back to us to continue dining. When we stopped to watch, he picked it up once more and flew far in the distance where we pesky humans wouldn’t stare at him as he ate.

At the eastern end of the northern loop are the farm fields which had been filled with geese and cranes only a few days ago—maybe a week—today there were a few of both geese and only one crane. Will it try going it alone to the north, will it find some of the cranes that are farther up along the River toward Albuquerque or will he hang out until next Fall’s fly-in? I don’t want to think that he might be a mountain lion’s breakfast or dinner. Then we came to the “ good-bye heron” another who is always at this same area. Today, however, we had a special treat. As we started toward the exit, the most adorable small hawk flew up from the roadside. About the size of a robin, it kept flying up and down from the ground to the post holding the stop sign. He was much more fidgety than the big hawks so we kept our distance and I tried to get a decent shot of him—through the windshield, turning the car and through my window and then through Bill’s—both of them open. The last shot was the best I could get.

Then it was back to the motel to pack and head up to Belen to visit Bud and Gloria, our friends who moved here from New Hampshire. We once more took the roads along the river and through the little farm communities with their little churches in each one. Arrived around 12:30 and immediately went into catch up mode. A friend of Gloria’s from Indianapolis is house-sitting next door so she dropped some cheese and crackers off for us to nibble on around 2, but since I’d eaten a fair share of ginger snaps and coffee and Bill had a few beers and Bud and Gloria some soda, we decided to forgo them—after all, Gloria, as usual had prepared a feast which would be ready at 4.

And let me tell you, the girl did not stint—she NEVER does. Turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, steamed carrots, cranberry chutney, green bean casserole ( brought by Jane, she of the cheese and crackers), gravy and home-made rolls. When we finished eating, it was not only the turkey that had been stuffed. Bill did the carving, much to Bud’s joy and the two of them did the cleaning up while we ladies sat in the living room chatting and relaxing. Jane left when Downton Abbey was coming on, since she doesn’t follow it, Bill went in to read, since he doesn’t either and Bud, Gloria and I enjoyed the two hour finale and chatted about it throughout and when it was over. We are so devastated that we have to wait til  January 2016 for the next season!!!! i suggested that we rent our houses and go over to England to see it, since they screen the seasons earlier than we do.

By the time it was over we all had room for dessert, which Jane missed out on. Chocolate cream pie with whipped cream. Somewhere along the line, I also got the recipe for that delicious chutney and promised to send Gloria the recipe I have for the cranberry-pear pie I have.

Monday started out with pancakes and ham for breakfast. Juice and coffee to wash it all down. Then we got ready and headed up to Albuquerque to see Unbroken. It was senior day at the movies so we only paid $1.00 each. They charged us $2.30 per couple much to Bud and Gloria’s dismay—have they raised the price or have they started charging tax/  LOL But, despite being perplexed we all agreed even $1.15 is quite a bargain for a first run movie. Afterwards, we went out for Chinese food. The Egg flower or egg drop soup is filled with egg white and is quite pretty but since I don’t like eggs, I ordered Won Ton as did Bill. He had Moo Goo Gai Pan (the Gai is chicken—private joke) and I had beef with vegetables. Big portions of excellent food. Bud and Gloria each had a spicy shrimp dish if I recall correctly. All in all a delightful day, especially since Bill and I haven’t had Chinese in a long while. The movie was good, though there really wasn’t much of a plot, but the tribulations this fellow suffered, first lost at sea and in a raft for over 40 days with two of his buddies and then the brutality of the Japanese when they were ‘ rescued” by them were excruciating. The fact that he didn’t go mad is amazing. Bill and I did find the neat haircuts and grooming of the prisoners amusing and I was particularly impressed by the quality of the American uniforms that only faded but did not shred nor tatter through the years of confinement and abuse. The only time the prisoners were ever even dirty was when they worked to coal mine. And even having become emaciated, the uniforms still fit the guys perfectly. In fairness though, these distracting thoughts came while driving to Gallup today, the situations while watching the movie were so riveting. Finished the day with some TV and new Fox program I haven’t seen before, a cop show, that at first I didn’t care for, but the second episode was much better. Now, I have to add it to my favorite shows!

Yesterday morning we lingered over coffee,juice and Gloria’s fabulous cinnamon buns—my God this girl can cook. I don’t know why the two of them aren’t 700 pounds apiece!  I know I must gain 25 pounds every time I visit them. Even if you restrain yourself from seconds, a near impossibility, it is important to resign yourself to discomfit in your pants for at least a week. I AM NOT complaining, mind you.As if eating while there is not bad enough, you always leave with leftovers. When Barb and I came in the Fall, we had homemade rolls and brownies for almost a week to munch on—and they would have been gone sooner but we tried to make them last. Neither Gloria nor I can remember what dinner was on that visit but I remember the rolls and brownies. This time we took cinnamon rolls and I took a turkey wing and neck which I ate for dinner last night.

Anyway, having refused rolls and turkey, since we had no room in the cooler for the latter and were worried the former would spoil since we have other bread with us , we headed out around 10:30 for Gallup. Out through Las Lunas over Route 6 with the train running alongside in the opposite direction and Mt Taylor snow covered in the distance. Onto I 40 with stop at the rest area at Acoma. How I hate the THREE roundabouts that got placed on a road area less than a mile long. Must have employed lots of Acoma at a good salary from the State. Confusing and irritating. The Rest area must also have cost a pretty penny and provided some jobs. I’ve never seen anyone picnicking there but the tables and grills are very nicely set up. Back onto 40 through the beautiful red mesas into Gallup by 1o’clock so went to Applebees for lunch.

Decided to stay in for dinner and early to bed—but I actually stayed up to watch TV till 10. Woke up really tired this morning so we decided to stay another night. Going to Perry Null’s tomorrow and then over to Window Rock. Today just a lazy read and TV day and readjustment to smaller meals and the road. Probably sounds crazy but it is nice to just take a break from everything before getting back into the routine.

There you have it—all caught up once more. Bill went out to get nickels and explore the grocery store while I blogged. Came back with several cans of Mexican fruit juice, a couple of grapefruits and descriptions of some chorizo that is available. Will have to check that out tomorrow before we leave town. No freezer in this refrigerator so have to hope the freezer packs stay at least slushy.

Looking forward to my Perry fix tomorrow and moving farther West into Arizona. Will be in touch again soon. Hope all is well with you all. A very happy birthday to Sally, whose birthday was yesterday. Did you do something fun?  Sure hope so! Until next time, so long from the Traveling Two Peas