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Archive for the ‘Adventures With Pepper’ Category

“I’ve learned that you shouldn’t go through life with a catcher’s mitt on both hands. You need to be able to throw something back.” Maya Angelou

These Had to Belong to a Show-Off Cowgirl

The gloves may be fancy, but the cowgirl hands that wore them were probably used to hard work. These were on exhibit at the Cowgirl Hall of Fame in Fort Worth, Texas. — Photo by Pat Bean

What can you ever really know of other people’s souls – of their temptations, their opportunities, their struggles? One soul in the whole creation you do know: and it is the only one whose fate is places in your hands.” C.S. Lewis

Bean’s Pat: Stop it Now http://tinyurl.com/7ala2bu 30 things you really shouldn’t do to yourself. Very good advice.

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 “Always do sober what you said you’d do drunk. That will teach you to keep your mouth shut.”

Ernest Hemingway — Wikipedia photo

“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.”

“I know war as few other men now living know it, and nothing to me is more revolting. I have long advocated its complete abolition, as its very destructiveness on both friend and foe, has rendered it useless as a method of settling international disputes.”

“Man is not made for defeat … The man who has begun to live more seriously within begins to live more simply without.”

– Ernest Hemingway on booze, writing, war and life.

Thoughts of Hemingway Along the way

 

The turn-by-turn guide to Route 66 http://www.historic66.com/description/ I was following got me thinking about Hemingway.

Old postcard advertising the Villa de Cubero

 It mentioned the rumor that the author might have written parts of “The Old Man and the Sea” while staying at the Villa de Cubero in Cubero.

I’ve seen Hemingway’s homes in Key West, Florida and Sun Valley, Idaho, where I actually met one of his granddaughters, and have stood before a memorial in his honor that sits beside the Big Wood River, so of course I was interested in this New Mexico connection.

Actually, I usually visit any place along the way that involves known writers. As a writer myself, I’m fascinated picturing aspects of my wordsmith colleagues.

A 1999 photo of about the only thing still doing business in Cubero. — Flicker photo

 

Cubero is not quite a ghost town, I noted as I passed through without stopping. Not sure now why I didn’t. I think because I wasn’t sure which of the crumbling ruins was where Hemingway stayed and I had gotten a late start this day and wanted to get to Flagstaff by day’s end.

I only got to Gallup, however, before calling it a day. I do tend to dally in my travels.

Meanwhile, intrigued by the Hemingway connection to Route 66, I got online and discovered this 1999 blog http://www.dukecityfix.com/profiles/blogs/the-cubero-adventures about Hemingway’s Cubero adventure. I definitely would have stopped if I had read it first.

I also discovered that Lucille Ball had stayed at the Villa de Cubero when she and Desi split.

Sometimes it seems like such a small world we live in. Connections seem to be everywhere.

Bean’s Pat: The Power of the Sun http://tinyurl.com/7sufeox The Blonde Coyote takes action that’s good for the environment and eventually her budget.

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 “Life is one big road with lots of signs. So when you’re riding through the ruts, don’t complicate your mind. Flee from hate, mischief and jealousy. Don’t bury your thoughts, put your vision to reality. Wake up and live! – Bob Marley

To Route 66

1940s map showing the Santa Fe detour.

I missed a few parts of the Route 66 section I recently traveled in order to tell you about my Zion National Park adventures in a real-time scenario.

So consider the next few blogs as flashbacks.

Santa Rosa was where I left you, at the Blue Hole (May 11th blog), if you remember.

From there it was on and off Interstate 40 to drive one or the other of the still-remaining patches of The Mother Road on the way to Albuquerque. I missed the best part of the old highway because I didn’t take the side trip to Santa Fe. I didn’t take it because of time considerations and the high cost of gas these days.

My consolation for not taking it was that on my trips between Utah, where I lived for 25 years, and Texas, where family lived, I drove this section of Route 66 dozens of times. I would suggest you don’t miss the detour if you’ve never traveled this way before. From visiting the Georgia O’Keefe Museum or the St. Francis Cathedral to simply strolling through Santa Fe’s colorful downtown, it’s well worth the time and gas.

What there was a never shortage of when I drove were May roadside flowers. — Photo by Pat Bean

My drive to Albuquerque, meanwhile, took me past Clines Corner, where a lone service station and cafe began life in the mid-1930s, the same time as Route 66 came into being.

Perseverance has turned the site, named after its original entrepreneur, Roy Cline, into a large travel center complex, complete with a huge trading post that is advertised on large billboards for miles.

It, too, was a place I had stopped at often in my previous travels – and so I simply waved my hand in its direction as I passed on by, eager to get to Albuquerque.

This largest city in New Mexico remembers Route 66 fondly – and uses it as a business and tourist gimmick.

For more than 10 miles I followed Route 66 signs, from the beginning of the town’s East Central Avenue to the end of its West Central Avenue. No boarded-up, falling-down businesses distressed me here. And I was thankful my RV, Gypsy Lee, is undersized because traffic was pretty much bumper-to-bumper.

It was actually refreshing, considering the alternative that was so visible in the many ruins that dotted most of the old highway I had traveled since leaving Amarillo. .

It left me wondering, however, how some businesses survived and some didn’t?

It would be easy to say the bigger towns had it easier – and perhaps they did. But then there were Cline’s Corner and the Midpoint Cafe that aren’t big at all. And they’re still doing well.

And that brings us back to life. What’s the difference between thriving and despairing?

Anybody have the magic answer?

Bean’s Pat: Serenity Spell http://tinyurl.com/89fpk63 A charming tale of mice and fairies. There’s too much seriousness in the world, so take a break from it. .

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 “Misunderstanding is my cornerstone. It’s everyone’s, come to think of it. Illusions mistaken for truth are the pavement under our feet.” – Barbara Kingsolver

What I Didn’t See

 

Looking across the deceptive shallow waters. — Photo by Pat Bean

There was only one thing left to do in Santa Rosa after my canine traveling companion, Pepper, and I left the Route 66 Auto Museum. Pay a visit to the Blue Hole.

Roadside signs advertising it had been tantalizing me for miles.

I found the attraction just a few blocks off Santa Rosa’s main Route 66 drag. I wasn’t impressed, seeing not at all what the hullabaloo was about. The Blue Hole looked like nothing more than a small, natural swimming hole that had been fancied up a bit.

Even the fancy diving pier didn’t clue me in. — Pat Bean

Pepper and I saw nary a soul as we walked all the way around it, which took about 10 minutes, before getting back on the road and heading to Albuquerque.

It was only later, when I did my usual curious-to-learn-more internet search, that I discovered why I should have paid the Blue Hole more attention. It was sort of like meeting a mild-mannered reporter named Clark never knowing that a Superman lay beneath.

What Pepper and I didn’t see was the 80-foot wide, 240-foot deep artesian well below the surface, its waters so crystal clear that scuba divers come for all over to dive in it.

There’s also a grate down there, blocking the hazardous entrance to some underwater caves that back in 1976 took the lives of two divers

There’s a lesson here. A familiar one. Never judge a book by its cover – or a pond by only what you can see.

Bean’s Pat: Pretty in Purple http://tinyurl.com/bqrz9vc If you’ve never seen a purple gallinule, then here’s your opportunity. And if you’ve seen one, I’m sure you’ll want another look.

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“Reckless automobile driving arouses the suspicion that much of the horse sense of the good old days was possessed by the horse.” – Unknown

High up on a pole, this bright yellow vehicle advertises the Route 66 Auto Museum. — Photo by Pat Bean

Running Board Back in Time

After a night spent at the Santa Rosa RV Campground, where you can order a western-style barbecue dinner be delivered to your motorhome, I decided to check out the town’s Route 66 Auto Museum.

The running board on this old vehicle took me back in time. — Photo by Pat Bean

One of the spiffy, polished cars on display here had a running board. Not writing it down in my notebook at the time,, and not being a car buff, I can’t recall the make of the car, just as I can’t remember the make of the old car with the running board that my dad owned.

While my dad’s car never looked anything at all like the flashy, polished-to-a-reflective-shine, ivory-colored car on display at the museum, the sight of the running board sent a jolt of memory through my body. I clearly remembered standing on just such a running board many years ago.

The thrill of that brief moment, when I was about 6 years old, was relieved in all its Technicolor excitement. I remembered holding onto the car door for dear life as my dad drove his car down the driveway of my grandmother’s home.

My dad would probably get arrested for child endangerment today.

Route 66 heydays: When Elvis was hot, wild and young. — Photo by Pat Bean

Of course so would I.

The first cars I drove didn’t come equipped with seat belts. I remember once driving to the store, holding a baby on my lap with one hand, and with a death grip on the steering wheel with the other hand.

I also remember frequently flinging my right hand out to keep a child sitting next to me from doing a death plunge into the windshield when I had to stop suddenly. Back in the 1950s, a lot of moms were expert at this maneuver.

Thankfully I survived, and so did all my kids.

The upside is that my canine traveling companion, Pepper, who occupies the passenger seat of my RV today, gets the benefits of my youthful right-hand-flinging practice.

Bean’s Pat: My Life is a Scream: http://tinyurl.com/6vrdpbl A hilarious take on Edvard Munch’s “The Scream” selling for $120 million dollars.

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This is how Pepper spends much of her time as we drive Route 66, her chin on the co-pilot arm rest staring at me. I actually snapped this picture as I drove down a lonely stretch of the road. Any guesses about what she is thinking? — Photo by Pat Bean

The Dog

I lie belly-up
In the sunshine, happier than
You ever will be.

Today I sniffed
Many dog butts—I celebrate
By kissing your face.

I sound the alarm!
Paperboy—come to kill us all —
Look! Look! Look! Look! Look!

… Sleeping here, my chin
On your foot—no greater bliss—well,
Maybe catching cats.

Look in my eyes and
Deny it. No human could
Love you as much I do.

I came across the poem above and it made me laugh. I don’t know who wrote it. Do you?

Bean’s Pat: Joy http://jmgoyder.com/2012/05/06/joy/  Very true words. I loved this blogger’s thoughts.

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 “If you come to a fork in the road, take it.” Yogi Berra

Cactus Motor Lodge

Tucumcari, New Mexico, is a city full of Route 66 memories.

Until you take a closer look. — Photo by Pat Bean

One of those is the old Cactus Motor Lodge where I stayed this past week. Not in the lodge itself, but on the property where it once stood.

While the former well-used motel rooms, some with their own auto garages, sit vacant and ghostly, the grounds have been turned into a landscaped RV park. While I was there, it was popular with both travelers and western kingbirds, the latter an especially nice touch for this avid birdwatcher. The gray flycatchers with their bright yellow belllies were all over the place.

The historic stone lodge, once neatly trimmed with bright orange and yellow paint, was built in the 1930s. Its office was converted from an old dance hall, where gambling was conducted illegally in the basement, according to some unsubstantiated information I turned up on the internet.

The dance hall supposedly had an escape tunnel, which was most likely cemented in when a swimming pool was built at the lodge in the 1950s. At least that was the guess of new owners who looked for the tunnel, but couldn’t find it.

Memories from Route 66’s past, when gas was only 39 cents a gallon, seeped into my thoughts as I walked my canine traveling companion, Pepper, around and around and around the property. She’s a young dog with a gazillion tons of energy and I’m an old broad who needs to keep walking.

We’re the perfect pair of wanderers. And Route 66 is providing us with plenty of colorful opportunities to wander off the beaten track.

Bean’s Pat: This Man’s Journey http://tinyurl.com/7wkhksa A different take on the photo challenge.  Perhaps we all need to unfocus a bit.

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 Buz Murdock: They make a pretty good map for cars don’t they? But what do they make for guys like me who turn left instead of right?

George Maharis as Buz and Martin Milner as Tod in a scene from the 1960s’ TV series, Route 66, I don’t think I missed an episode back then when my wanderlust life was still only a dream. — Wikipedia photo

Tod Stiles: We have to know we’re lost before we can find ourselves Buz. That sort of map you make up as you go along.

– Dialog from the 1960-64 TV series “Route 66

Driving Down Memory Lane

After days of plotting and replotting my route west, which is part of the fun of travel, I finally decided to follow Route 66 from Amarillo, Texas to Flagstaff, Arizona. Not much of the old Mother Highway remains, but the bits and pieces of it that do have been glamorized.

The chicken that sits in front of a Mexican restaurant in Vega. I found it the most interesting thing in this tiny remnant of a town. — Photo by Pat Bean

Trying to stay on as much of the original Route 66 as possible kept me off Interstate 40, which supplanted 66, at least some of the time. Often it was just driving the frontage road, but since I hate freeways and roaring semis, I enjoyed the slower pace.

Where the route across Texas’ Panhandle got interesting were the little towns 66 took me though, like Vega and Adrian. A few businesses during the route’s heydays still survived but there were many more dilapidated ruins of those that hadn’t.

I stopped in Vega just long enough to photograph a wooden chicken in front of a Mexican restaurant. But in Adrian, I stayed long enough to have lunch at the Midpoint Cafe.

In continuous operation since 1928, the cafe gets its name from its geological location, that being the midpoint of Route 66 between Chicago and Los Angeles. According to a sign in front of the restaurant, it was 1,139 miles to either city.

The Midpoint Sign directly across the street from the Midpoint Cafe, which offered an excellent lunch break for me. — Photo by Pat Bean

My reward for stopping in Adrian was a piece of the restaurant’s signature ugly crust chocolate pie. It came topped with ice cream. Thankfully my RV has a freezer, because it was enough for two desserts – and I wasn’t about to leave a bite of its scrumptiousness behind.

I ate the second piece the next morning for breakfast. I simply scraped off the remaining ice cream, plopped the leftover pie in the microwave oven for half a minute, then put the ice cream back on top.

Come journey with me tomorrow and I’ll take you through the ghost town of Glenrio.

Bean’s Pat: Another Header http://anotherheader.wordpress.com/2012/04/25/page-arizona/ Page, Arizona. This blog is a good example of how you need to get off the beaten path to really see what’s out there. Antelope Canyon, is especially a fantastic experience no one should miss. It easily makes my unending list of favorite places.

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 “We always had Packards, until the war, when they stopped making them; then we had a Cadillac.” June Carter Cash

From the front -- Photo by Pat Bean

Adventures With Pepper

You can’t visit Amarillo and not take a little detour off of Interstate 40 to Cadillac Ranch. It just wouldn’t be, well Texan.

It’s not exactly a ranch, just a large field minus the cows. There’s not even a ranch house, just 10 half-buried old Cadillacs with psychedelic paint jobs, courtesy of whomever visits with a spray paint can. The color décor is constantly changing.

The Cadillacs are what Texas millionaire Stanley Marsh, who planted them back in 1973, calls an art installation.

And from the rear -- Photo by Pat Bean

I like it. It’s fun art. And the installation tells a story, part of which is the heydays of automobiles and Historical Route 66, which Interstate 40 replaced.

Back in the 1970s, I briefly owned an old Cadillac. It was a 1965 model if I recall correctly. I needed a car and back then, when the cost of gas started escalating, the Cadillac was the cheapest thing on the lot.

That old Cadillac was smooth running, but a big old gas guzzler and quite expensive to repair. It wasn’t long before the Cadillac was replaced with a used VW Bug, which cost more but was cheaper in the long run. .

According to Wikipedia, the eccentric millionaire Stanley probably paid only about $200 for each of his Cadillacs, which he picked up at junkyards before giving them a half-butted burial.

You just gotta love Texans.

Bean’s Pat: 400 Days ’til 40 http://tinurl/7fvkjjn You are never too old to live your dreams

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 “Some people are always grumbling because roses have thorns; I am thankful that thorns have roses.” – Alphonse Karr

While I watched the red-necked phalaropes in the pond ..... -- Photo by Pat Bean

Adventures with Pepper

Pepper played around in the buttercups -- Photo by Pat Bean

The roadsides between Wichita Falls and Amarillo were strewn with wildflowers in abundance this past week. While Texas’ glorious spring bluebonnets have already disappeared, purple penstemons, golden coreopsis, scarlet Indian paintbrush, and white prickly poppy blossoms stood in nicely.

And then when Pepper and I pulled into a fancy rest stop, complete with a sign near the entrance to the information center that warned visitors to be aware of rattlesnakes, there was a large field of buttercups. I feel sorry for anyone who doesn’t thrill at such a sight.

Beyond the flowers, there was a small pond with a dozen or so phalaropes doing their thing.

And the Texas nasties got her. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Phalaropes swim in circles to stir up the water and bring up their dinner. I’ve seen thousands of them do this on the Great Salt Lake in Utah, where they fill up on brine shrimp eggs before continuing their migration.

There were only about a dozen, however, on this small pond.

While I watched these small birds, Pepper decided to explore the buttercups. When I looked around, she was having a blast bounding among them. Watching her made me laugh out loud – well until she tired and came back to stand beside me.

It took me half an hour of picking and brushing and cutting of hair before Pepper wasn’t as prickly as a cactus. That sign that warned about snakes should have also mentioned Texas’ nasty burs.

Bean’s Pat: Peter Pan http://tinyurl.com/84j3cf9 How many of you have actually read J.M. Barrie’s book? I love the quotes.

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