I Get My Kicks ...

So I'm toodling down I-40 in Arizona after a number of days on two-lane roads checking out mind-numbingly beautiful places like Black Canyon and Arches and Goosenecks and Monument Valley. Now it's time to get serious about making it to California in time for my appointment at Lazy Daze RV headquarters. GoJoe needs a little bit of work done there. But I keep seeing all these signs inviting me to get off the interstate and "Travel the Original Route 66."

Now you've got to understand that Route 66 holds a mythical place in my brain as I'm sure it does for countless other baby boomers. After all, we watched "Todd" and "Buzz" on TV each week in the early 60s zipping coolly from one adventure to another along Route 66 in their Corvette. And who doesn't love "I Get My Kicks on Route 66," recorded by Nat King Cole and innumerable others? A road to destiny, it is.

So after the third or fourth invitation to drive the famous Route, I finally succumb. Taking an exit somewhere just over the California line, I'm immediately jouncing on a roadway apparently constructed from giant corduroy turned sideways and coated with jagged concrete. With potholes. When this happens in an RV you find yourself in a world of jangling dishes, tinkling silverware, doors flying open, drawers sliding out, and anything not secured flopping all over. So much for nostalgia.

Back on the interstate I assume I'm done with the storied road. But no. I pull off at Victorville, CA, to get gas. I figure there will be a station within the first block or two. (I "figure" this because I really need gas.) But I go for what seems miles and ... nothing. After a while it becomes absurd. I want to turn around but I keep thinking there's got to be a gas station; I can't give up now. It also enters my mind that this could be happening for a "reason." Finally a station appears on a corner. I fill up and when I pull into the side street to turn around, what do I see before me?



That's right. Fate at its finest.

Inside are all sorts of artifacts to take you back to an earlier time. They have exhibits on old telephone offices, kitchens, clothing, you name it. But I was interested mainly in things that evoked the early efforts of Americans to explore the country by automobile.

Here's the family flivver surrounded by gas station logos and the once-ubiquitous Burma Shave signs - four rhyming signs lined up along the highway extolling the virtues of shaving creme.



And where do you stop when you're on a road trip? A diner, of course.



And finally, the early car camping scene.




All in all, I found the museum much easier to deal with than the actual road.

Monument Valley - Utah, Arizona

This region of spires, buttes and mesas straddles the Utah-Arizona border near Four Corners, where Utah, Arizona, Colorado, and New Mexico meet. I was just driving through as my appointment in Los Angeles to have the RV worked on was fast approaching. I did camp nearby for the evening and was able to see many of the formations from a distance.



Monument Valley has been the setting for countless western movies and TV commercials. On a visit here some years ago, our Navajo guide told of an automobile commercial in which a car was airlifted to the top of one of the chimney-like buttes. Then a young female model was flown up to sit in the car and wave as the scene was filmed from a circling helicopter. Unfortunately, the helicopter later developed mechanical problems and the young woman had to sit in the car on the pinnicle overnight before being rescued the next day. I hope she got paid for the extra hours.



If you saw the movie "Forrest Gump" you may remember Forrest and his followers running up this road near the end of the movie. It was here that Forrest announced that he was finished with running and just stopped. One of the followers said "What do we do now?" Priceless.



This pattern in the mountainside is reminiscent of some patterns in Navajo rugs. Monument Valley and much of the country surrounding it, including Four Corners, is on Navajo land. While driving through the Navajo Nation I enjoyed listening to NPR -- Navajo Public Radio.



P.S. It's Sunday a.m. and I was just reading the blog of a fellow RV traveler. He was writing about how much work went into getting a certain photograph, work that the viewer might never appreciate. I'm sure that's true. But serendipity also plays a role in photography. That was true with the photos at the top of this posting, two of my favorites on the trip so far. The first one, the horses at Monument Valley, happened as I was pulling out of the Goulding's campground. I was heading down the gravel road toward the main highway and admiring the formations in the distance. Suddenly there were these horses standing along the side of the road. I brought the RV to a stop, rolled down the window, and snapped the shot. That's all there was to it. The sunset shot occurred the night before. I was heading over to the laundry room when I saw the great lighting. I ran back to the RV and grabbed my camera. A moment later the whole scene had dissipated. I guess serendipity is another word for dumb luck.