*NOTE: Five years ago I began a journey across the country with Thiel, a dear friend of mine. I was moving from Chicago to Long Beach, California, and she agreed to make the drive with me. I present my journal of that journey on the corresponding day that it was recorded five years ago. Enjoy reliving this adventure with me!
Day 10: January 12, 2014
We bid a fond adieu to Santa Fe this morning. Almost as soon as we pulled out of the motel parking lot a light came on in the car. It was an exclamation point over a curved squiggly line or something like that. I had a vague inkling that it had something to do with the tires, then I noticed that the trip odometer had disappeared and it was flashing “CHECK TIRE PRESSURE.” I stopped at the first gas station I saw, but their air pump was broken. Of course. There was another station just down the street and I went there. I filled all the tires as close as I could to capacity, according to the pressure gauge built into the air hose. The left back tire was pretty low, so I’m assuming that that’s what the problem was. The cap on the nozzle was missing, but I don’t think that affects the air pressure. Then again, I have virtually no knowledge of car stuff. After I finished checking all the tires I restarted the car and the alert disappeared. I wonder if the change in altitude could have affected the tire pressure.
We had to take the interstate for a few miles at this point because the old road either doesn’t exist or keeps running into dead ends, and we rejoined the old route at Algodones, New Mexico. Not much to see here, as we were wending our way into Albuquerque, which, unlike Santa Fe, does have a skyline. This was our daily getting-lost time (it seems to be necessary to happen at least once a day), and we had to stop and ask directions twice since our instructions were inaccurate. We found our way out of the city and began passing through Native American reservations from time to time.
It’s profoundly affecting for me to reflect on the state of Native Americans on reservations in modern times. As soon as you cross the border of one you can tell the difference—at least the ones I’ve experienced, in my opinion. These people were here first, and they have been relegated to the most undesirable lands that exist in this country, with no assistance for infrastructure from the US government, as I understand it. When I think about how it must have been to be a Native American person during the time that Europeans suddenly started appearing and asserting their “rights” to whatever they wanted, it really breaks my heart. There is a deeply tragic history to this country that goes untold in classrooms. Horrific things were done to these people, and they had to simply accept that things were changing rapidly, and not in their favor. How impotent they must have felt! They didn’t have firearms. They didn’t have immunity to the new diseases that these people brought with them. Can you imagine someone barging into your house and simply stating that they want it and you can’t do anything about it? They tell you to disappear or they will make sure that you do…such a violation.
There was a long stretch of the old road that ran through the middle of nowhere until it rejoined the interstate again.
The wind was gusting up to 48 MPH today, so that made the car knock around pretty steadily. Temperatures were approaching 70 degrees, and there were many tumbleweeds dashing across the road in front of us. We ran across an abandoned bar. It was a small building in the middle of nowhere, but within sight (about a mile) of the interstate. As we passed it I wondered if we should pull off and stop, but we kept going. However, there emerged a question about our next steps to keep with the road and I pulled off to the side to consult the atlas and the books. I decided that I wanted to turn around and go back to the bar; for some reason I felt compelled to check it out. There was a giant, non-working neon sign on a big tower that said BAR so it could be seen from a distance. And distance is all there is out there. When we pulled up to it there was another car in the parking lot. The driver’s side door was open and there was a woman peering into the window of the building. Her license plate said Maryland. She started to walk back to her car as we got out of ours.
“Is there anything in there?” I asked her.
“There used to be,” she said. “But you can see really well in the windows.”
“Good!” I said.
There was still a bar in there, and the food and very limited drink menu were still visible on chalkboards over the bar. There was a pool table in the front left corner. It seemed as though it had been vacant for some time, but the price of a beer was $4.00, and beer to go was $10.00, so it doesn’t seem as if it could be all that long since it was abandoned, as those prices don’t seem so far removed from reality. It was so quiet there except for the constantly blowing wind. I walked around the whole building to see if there was a way in, but there wasn’t, alas. I’m such a wannabe trespasser!
Abandoned bar in the middle of nowhere in New Mexico.
At Grants, New Mexico, we wanted to veer off and go to see the Ice Caves, but we called before we reached Grants and found out that they’re closed for the season. They’re apparently caves that have ice inside them year-round. Next we crossed the Continental Divide, which I’d heard of, but wasn’t sure what it was. It’s the point at which water on the west side drains to the Pacific Ocean, and water on the east side drains to the Atlantic, via the Gulf of Mexico. We stopped at an Indian trading post and I finally found a Route 66 T-shirt that I liked. Thiel bought some Native American earrings. She inquired about the price of a necklace, but it was over $500. I’m sure it was worth it if you could afford it, but watching her try to hide the reaction on her face when told the price was delicious.
Of course we got confused and thought we were lost just after dark, when it’s hardest to figure out where the hell you are. Turns out we were on course, but apparently the towns listed that we were supposed to pass through either moved or disappeared. We did pass Fort Yellowhorse, which is still in use now as another trading post, but was built as a movie set for the 1950 Kirk Douglas film The Big Carnival, which I have neither heard of nor seen. Now I’ll be sure to try to see it.
Fort Yellowhorse, New Mexico.
Soon after this point our book advised us to jump back on the interstate, as the road is broken up into chunks of dead ends. This was the longest we’ve had to stay off the old course. We realized, to our delight, that the next exit where we could rejoin the old road was in Holbrook, Arizona, which is where there exists a Wigwam Motel. I grew up in South Central Kentucky, about 30 miles from Horse Cave, Kentucky, where there is another Wigwam Motel, and I have always wanted to sleep in one. I never did it while I lived so close to one. Our guidebook said that you usually need reservations, but we figured that, since we’re traveling in the off-season, we might get lucky. We called and they told us that they had two wigwams available. They said that we could just come and get one if we’d arrive by 9:00 PM, when the office closes, or we could make a reservation if we couldn’t make it by then and they’d leave the key for us. Just in case, we made a reservation. The speed limit out here on the interstate is 75 MPH, so we made really good time, and arrived at the motel around 8:00 PM. Tonight I sleep in a wigwam!
Inside the wigwam.
We went to dinner at an Italian restaurant in town. It’s very deserted here, and things close very early. We wanted to go to a bar to experience the local flavor. Our server at dinner told us that the bar down the street closes at 10 PM! We did end up going there for a drink and were told that they close whenever they want, whenever there is nobody left in there. I guess the cutoff time is 2:00 AM, so they have the option of staying open until then.
At the bar in Holbrook.
Holbrook is a very cute town with lots of touristy-looking things around. I look forward to seeing it in the daylight. We’re at high elevation now, so the temperature is cold again, and we have had glimpses of snow on the ground. Looking forward to tomorrow. This part of the country is very beautiful and every turn in the road has a surprise on the horizon. Thiel has never seen the Grand Canyon, so tomorrow we’ll be checking that off her list.
Wigwam Motel, Holbrook, AZ.