Past 30 miles of billboards encouraging me to visit Branson (music! shows! The Princess Diana Exhibit!) and I finally eased into Oklahoma where the road was worse and there was a toll.
I'd hoped to connect with an old friend in Norman OK, but I left Osage Beach late morning and couldn't stand the highway. I turned off and followed more blue highways. I had to call my friend about an hour outside of OK City and tell her I couldn't drive any longer. I stayed on Route 66 (got my kicks) and found an original "motor hotel" with $35 rooms.
The room was worn, and the toilet sat an an angle due to a saggy bathroom floor, but the A/C worked, and since it was 103 in town, it seemed a lot better than sleeping in Stella.
On the road again, early, staying on Route 66 into the edge of the Great Plains, through small towns and past great fields of grain interspersed with cookie-cutter subdivisions. The dirt turned Oklahoma red. I had to climb on the interstate occasionally but mostly stayed on whatever side road I could find. One one remote road, I saw no vehicles for many miles, but hit one spot of kamikaze grasshoppers. If I hadn't needed gas anyway, I would have had to stop to scrub the windshield.
I was on the interstate when I entered Texas because I wanted to stop at the welcome center for information about my next stop, Palo Duro Canyon. Unfortunately, Texas does not welcome people who drive I-40. We are left to fend for ourselves. However, I did stop at the rest stop/ storm shelter midway across the Panhandle. There was a little information about Palo Duro, but nothing I could take with me to help me find it.
I cut south at Amarillo toward
Palo Duro, the second largest canyon in the US. I drove through the plains and gentle hills making only two wrong map-less turns. The topography changed a bit, more trees, and then wham! There is was. An incredible canyon that stretches for miles and miles. And miles. 120 miles.Unlike the Grand, you can drive into Palo Duro Canyon. I paid my $5, visited the interpretive center, and headed down. It drops about 800 feet over a drive of four miles, eventually sitting 1000 feet below the rim in some places. I'd hoped to camp there, but the canyon temperature was 109. I did walk a bit, but with that heat, not much.
I don't know how far the canyon road goes because I turned around after cruising and walking the canyon for about an hour. Since I wasn't going to camp there, I wanted to make it to my second choice, Tucumcari NM.
I continued to opt for the back roads and meandered the Panhandle. Cattle stood knee deep in grass, wandering and grazing. No, not grazing. In that much grass they were gorging. Down farm roads where the only other traffic was the occasional semi or a truck weighed down with hay.
Because of the magic of time zones, I got to Tucumcari earlier than I thought I would. Back on Route 66, I found another vintage motor hotel, this one named, appropriately, The Historic Route 66 Motel. With tax, around $31.
Dinner at Del's. If you are in northeastern New Mexico, stop in Tucumcari. Friendly people, very affordable hotels, and lots of food at Del's. Get the chicken fajitas and plan to share it with someone. I took plenty to go. Good salsa, too, a true sign of being back in the southwest.
It's really, really hard to get good salsa east of west Texas. In the east, it's made for gringo tongues. I have seen it made with bell pepper rather than jalapeno. Tomato sauce rather than tomatoes. Totally immoral. Oh, there's nothing like good salsa! (try my mango salsa if you're ever out this way - it's killer!)
It poured Wednesday night while I slept in Tucumcari. The rain began shortly after I got back to my room after dinner, and it rained most of the night. Bucketloads of water.
I got up early Thursday morning, looked out, and saw heavy clouds on their way east. I headed west.
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