LA/XC-2 DAYS NINETEEN AND TWENTY: CALIFORNIA; SEDONA (ARIZONA); ROUTE 66
Day Nineteen mileage: 486
Day Twenty mileage: 413
Total LA/XC-2 mileage: 5,506
Weather leaving San Francisco: 77 and sunny
Road Music: XM Radio regulars; Adele (21); Singles playlist; Monday Night Football, Packers vs. Seahawks (I could see on the radio that was a terrible call!); Eagles
Two-day state tally: 3 (California, Arizona, New Mexico)
Gas money to date: $958.69
When “Winslow Arizona” showed up on the map in my book, Route
66: Lost & Found (very appropriate title; more about that in a minute), my first thought, of course, was to switch my road music to the Eagles section of my iPod; my second thought was, gotta stop there. And my third thought was: Hey, I’m gonna take me a photo of me and my doggy standin’ on a corner in Winslow Arizona! Should have known I wasn’t the first person to have this thought. Or the second. Or the third. Or the zillionth. Turns out the corner of Kinsley and Second Street in downtown Winslow has a statue dedicated to the Eagles, several site markers, a souvenir shop, lyrics from “Take It Easy” plastered all over the walls, and all sorts of other tourist
clap-trap. All right, all right. I still think it was a cool idea.
Okay, Route 66. Yeah, I’m talking to you. The Mother Road.
Whatever you want to call yourself. If you’re such an awesome road, why do you keep hiding? Three times yesterday in Arizona I got myself all happy and socked in and ready to soak up pieces of Americana, and three times Route 66 vanished into thin air within a couple of miles, and I found myself back on the interstate, I-40
East. It got to the point that when I saw a “Historic Route 66” sign beckoning, I’d say to myself (yes, after three weeks on the road I talk to myself quite a bit), “Yeah, right” — or something a bit stronger. I’m one of that large group of Americans who find themselves fascinated by the romance of Route 66 (Route 66 was, in fact, one of the very, very few TV shows I watched in my rather strange, and as Carol would say, “un-American” childhood), and I was really looking forward to tootling along it for a few leisurely stretches here and there. Last year on LA/XC-1 I enjoyed a good bit of Route 66 around Tulsa, Oklahoma, and another on my way into Albuquerque. But yesterday in Arizona, nothing doing. Later today, when I finish puttering around Santa Fe and hit the road for Marfa, Texas, I’ll undoubtedly see more signs for Route 66. And I’ll undoubtedly follow them. And Route 66 undoubtedly won’t be there.
One of the things I wanted to do along the Mother Road was buy a Route 66 souvenir T-shirt for myself. Sure, sure, I could order one on the internet — but I wanted to get it along Route 66 itself. You know, an authentic souvenir T-shirt. 🙂 This obsessive quest, of course, is part of why I was so irritated by Route 66’s vanishing act. I finally was reduced to buying an ugly black and white one from the Navajo Trading Center at a truck stop off exit 16 along I-40 in New Mexico.
Before being flummoxed by the elusive Route 66, I spent the morning in Sedona — which really overdelivered. I’d heard all about the awesomeness of “Red Rock country,” but when I woke up to see my surroundings from the deck of the Best Western Plus Inn of Sedona (yes, I drove in well after dark, as usual, and couldn’t see a blessed thing) — whoa! The ridiculously other-worldly-shaped red rock formations climbing into the impossibly blue, cloudless sky was on the Grand Canyon level in the Beagle Man main attractions standings. Can’t really say the famed “vortexes” did anything for me, but when we stood on one along the Airport loop, Ricky refused to move. Then again, Ricky often refuses to move.
Oh, and you noticed another mention of a Best Western Plus? Not to mention I’m writing right now in the Best Western Plus
Inn of Santa Fe. This makes my third straight Best Western Plus (San Fran, Sedona, Santa Fe), not including, of course, my week-long stay at Loews Santa Monica. Yup, Best Western Plus is now the official motel chain of the Beagle Man Cross-Country Tour. I started out last year with America’s Best Value Inns, which was eventually overtaken by Comfort Inns & Suites, and now the crown goes to Best Western Plus. Gotta have the “Plus.” Meredith, at the front desk in Sedona, explained to me all the features a Best Western has to have to earn the Plus, but what I’ve noticed is that they tend to be very aesthetically pleasing, on top of everything else you’d want in a motel chain room. Architecturally, this one in Santa Fe has a bit of the Alamo look to it, and inside, well — check out my photo. So until further notice, Best Western Plus reigns.
You also may have noticed in my brief account of Sedona, above, that I
continued my habit of arriving at my destination well into the evening. (Okay, the night.) Same thing happened last night here in Santa Fe. And since I’m not even out of my room yet, same thing will definitely be happening tonight in Marfa — if I even get there at all. (540 miles to go, and it looks like another slow start . . .) In my mind, the game plan is to get up and out early, do my driving in daylight, sight-see, settle in, post, get a good night’s sleep. But since I’ve done that just about zero times in 3-and-a-half times across the country, it would be hard to really call that my M.O.
Random Road Notes: Have been seeing these weird-looking windmills all over the central and western states; their blades look like Mercedes Benz symbols. They seem to be sprouting everywhere. Finally remembered to Google them last night: Wind turbines, is what they’re called, and Texas (of course) has more of them than any other state. And there’s your fun fact for the day . . .
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