Flagstaff to Dallas - 3 days of travel

Bernalillo KOA, NM

Lubbock KOA, TX

Family, TX

Saturday, 11 through Monday, 13 December 2021

Flagstaff to Bernalillo, Day 1
(follow the blue line)

Bernalillo to Lubbock, Day 2
(much of the line here is green - blue + yellow)

Lubbock to Dallas, Day 3
(both green and blue)

Despite the fact that for some of this 3-day drive I'll be covering ground I've already passed, I saw some things I missed before.

Saturday, the 11th

I guess it's because I don't usually spend much time on interstates, but I was surprised to see so many license plates from so many far-away states: Ohio, Kentucky, Virginia, New Hampshire, Illinois, New Jersey, Tennessee, Alaska, as a sample.

Early in the drive from Flagstaff, there was snow and frost everywhere.  But by the time I got to Holbrook, there wasn't any at all.  That was reassuring for safe driving conditions.

I saw a license plate that said: OOHDEER.

Entering New Mexico I saw a sign saying: "New Mexico True Welcomes You."  Not being real sure what they meant by "New Mexico True" I looked it up and learned it's an advertising slogan and (as far as I can tell) the state's not real clear on what it means either.  But they say it means to embrace the local culture and anticipate having adventures along your own lines of interest here.  They say people often see New Mexico as barren, and they wanted to suggest visitors look a little deeper for what's here.  Not sure that slogan gets us there but ...

Then I came to the rest area at the state's Welcome Center, where a sign said "New Mexico Welcomes You."  The only problem with that idea is that the rest area and welcome center were closed for covid.

The number of tractor-trailers on the road was staggering.

I wasn't able to get to Gallup during my month in New Mexico, but I tried to find a place here where we could stop and take a walk and have some lunch, which turned out to be really hard to do.  I guess I just got off at the wrong exit, but the only place I found was an empty Mexican restaurant parking lot - I couldn't tell if the place were closed for covid or just not open for lunch.

I saw a sign saying Gallup is the "Most Patriotic Small Town in America."  Turns out that title came from Rand McNally (the map people) and is based on the numerous services and honors for local residents who were (a) WWII Navajo Code Talkers, (b) Korean War Medal of Honor recipient, (c) surviving members of the Bataan Death March - a fair basis, considering this town has only 21,000 residents.

Numerous billboards along the highway extoll El Rancho Hotel, which is a National Historic Landmark as well as being a still-operating hotel.  It was built in 1936 by the brother of the famous director D.W. Griffith.  It gradually became the center of the Western movie industry, and many many Hollywood stars stayed here: John Wayne, Humphrey Bogart, Errol Flynn, Spencer Tracy, Kirk Douglas, Gregory Peck, Ronald Reagan and Katharine Hepburn among them.  After color movies came out in the 1960s, this area fell out of favor (not Technicolor friendly, I guess).  But the hotel sits on Route 66, so you can get all kinds of connections here.

I could tell by the traffic I was back in New Mexico: 3 cars and a semi all decided to enter the highway in front of me and I had to come to almost a complete stop because the fast lane wouldn't let me move over.  I really don't like driving in this state because people are so rude and apparently oblivious to danger or driving courtesy.

A semi with the UPS logo roared up to tailgate 3 cars that were stuck behind another semi in the passing lane.  He tailgated them for a while and when he passed me I saw he was texting while he was tailgating.  So incredibly dangerous.

And to be fair to NM drivers, a semi from Indiana was so casual about how he changed lanes that he was still very much in my lane when he started to pass me.  I wasn't completely convinced he'd be able to make it without scraping my side or bashing my mirror until after he'd passed safely.

There was an incredible amount of traffic, and at least as many semis as cars.  I never did figure out why they were all out here on a Saturday or where they were all going.

I passed the Continental Divide (again) where the elevation was 7,275'.

I saw several signs here and there that said "High Profile Vehicles Use This Exit."  I tried hard to figure out what on earth those signs were about and never did.  They didn't explain what constituted "high profile" but I never saw any semis exit so apparently they weren't high enough.  And I never could figure out why they should exit in the first place because none of the subsequent overpasses seemed unusually low.  Odd.

The terrible NM roadways along part of today's drive were as bad as I'd remembered.  At one area the road level was so uneven I saw semis having trouble not tumping over.

Bernalillo bills itself as The City of Coronado, apparently because it's just a few miles from the state's Coronado Historic Site where, in 1542, the Spanish explorer Coronado came upon a Native village that had been there for 200 years.  These folks were part of the Tiwa-speaking tribe, and it was 1 of 12 such villages in the area.  These Native villages were likely the only reason Coronado and his men stayed alive, ill-prepared as they were to live off this land.  Of course they never found the gold they were looking for, though I suppose you could say they found it after all in these villages where the folks kept them alive - assuming a person's life to be worth more than gold.

I stayed at the same KOA I'd been to about a month ago when I was in this area.

Sunday, the 12th

Gasoline in Flagstaff costs 65¢/gallon more than in Bernalillo.  That's quite a difference.

About 40 miles or so outside of Bernalillo, I noticed the semis way outnumbered other vehicles.  I've never seen as many semis parked on the shoulders of exits - both yesterday and today.  Sometimes there were as many as 5 at an exit.  Possibly it's a result of the state rest areas being closed, which should make NM officials want to rethink their decision to close rest areas for covid.  Which doesn't make much sense, when you think about it, because the only indoor public venues at a rest area are the restrooms, and you could just post warning signs on the doors to remind people they should still be wearing a mask indoors.

I passed a tow truck pulled up to the trailer part of a tractor-trailer.  The trailer had been completely destroyed by fire, and the tow truck had a sign that said, "Money For Junk Cars" or something similar.  They sure got a junker that time.

I passed a billboard with a picture of a hearse, and the caption read: "One Way or Another, Someone Will Be Your Designated Driver."  They should post those in bars.

I counted 13 trains during today's drive: one that was 2 trains hooked together, with 3 engines part way along the chain.  One of the 2 trains was all filled coal cars, the other containers.  The result was a very long wait.  I saw other trains with filled coal cars, and still others with cars.

Near Clovis I passed a New Mexico historical marker about Ida O. Jackson, and looked her up.  I couldn't find a photo of the actual marker, but I did find this webpage explaining why she well deserved a historical marker.  It looks like one of those "bloom where you're planted" situations.   https://www.nmhistoricwomen.org/ida-o-jackson

Just over the border in Texas, I found cotton fields scattered for miles and fields dotted with both square and round cotton bales.  I passed a herd of cows grazing in a beautiful green cropfield.  Don't know what they've planted there, but I'd guess it wasn't intended to be cow food.

In Muleshoe, not far from the Texas border, gasoline was 40¢/gallon less than in Bernalillo, just over a dollar/gallon less than in Flagstaff.  That's a big difference.

Near Lubbock I passed a business called Hoot-n-Annie Pecan Co.  With a picture of an owl by the "hoot" part and a picture of a redheaded girl in pigtails by the "annie" part.

I made it into the Lubbock KOA, where I've stayed several times before, about 8 hours after I left Bernalillo.  That's definitely more driving than I prefer to do, but I need to be there for my eye doctor appointment Tuesday morning at 8:00.

Monday, the 13th

Passing all those little West Texas towns, with populations ranging from 286 (Dickens) to 2,157 (Idalou), and all obviously dependent on the constant stream of cotton fields I saw.

Crossing West Texas reminds me of crossing the Florida Panhandle: interminable.  It doesn't matter what the scenery looks like; you still think you'll never come to the end of it.

We stopped for a break at a Catholic church in Seymour (pop. 2,908), shaded by lots of pecan trees.  Nearby I saw the Whiteside Museum of Natural History, and this seemed like an odd place for such a thing so I looked it up.  Turns out that near Seymour are some of the best Permian skeletons in existence and one of the greatest Permian bone beds in the world.  We're talking 288 million-year-old dinosaurs here, and this museum apparently does a great job of translating them for regular folks like me.  Sounds like a place I should visit when I've got time.

More huge fields of green with cows grazing on them.

People shouldn't use retread tires in Texas.  My cousin who owned a tire shop taught me that.  The roads here get too hot and the retreads come apart, which is a problem for the owner and also one for the other drivers who follow along trying to dodge the pieces that are thrown all over the roadway.

We passed through Olney, pop. 3,285, and I was impressed to see an old but active and even vibrant downtown.

I saw 2 sheep with a lamb that looked like it was just barely old enough to eat grass.

At Jacksboro, pop. 4,533, I learned that the town was originally called Mesquiteville (for the large number of those trees) but was changed the same year the Jack County courthouse was built there.  And the name came from the Jack brothers (William and Patrick) who were Georgia lawyers who moved to Texas and fought for independence from Mexico.  

Which is all okay but I was really interested in a sign that said this was the Birthplace of 4H.  About 50 years after the town's founding, a resident organized something called the Corn Club for local boys, and he distributed a gallon of a new type of corn seed to each of 111 area boys to grow.  The next year, at the first county fair, corn exhibited by the boys was so impressive that the farmers started using their same techniques, and the first Texas 4H Club was born from the Corn Club.

Near Decatur, I passed a nice-looking place with a big sign saying "American Patriot Ranch.com."  I don't know if I found the right website, but it seems to be the right place.  I'm afraid I expected something like survival training, and in a way that's what I found but not how I expected.  It's a private place that, among other things, tries to help veterans through various activities and equine therapy (which I understand can work well).  Apparently this place also offers various kinds of training for civilians and law enforcement, though that's discussed on their Facebook page which I can't access.

We came to Runaway Bay (pop. 1,104) on Lake Bridgeport, then Bridgeport itself (pop. 6,045), and then Denton (pop. 139,869) which marked for me the beginning of the Dallas/Ft.Worth Metroplex (as it's called).  And from that point on I didn't have the ability to notice anything but the traffic.  Really glad I don't live around all these cars on a regular basis.

And then to the home of David and Anna.  Dexter was ecstatic about seeing Anna again.  He knows where he is when we turn on their street, and he sits next to me and absolutely quivers with delight.  It's really sweet.

Flagstaff - Days 7 - 10 - around Flagstaff

Flagstaff KOA, Flagstaff

Tuesday, 7 through Friday, 10 December 2021

I'd planned to stay here 5 nights and use this place as a base for visiting several sights I wanted to see in the vicinity - think Grand Canyon in the north, the Sedona area in the south.  But I'd booked appointments at the vet for the critters and at an eye clinic for me, and those - combined with the weather - made traveling a bad idea.  And then the results at these clinics changed all my plans.

But first, my impressions of Flagstaff.

Flagstaff

We ended up driving around town more than I'd expected, thanks to having so much more time available.  One place I found was a very nice park, called Bushmaster Park.

 

I'd figured the name Bushmaster had something to do with snakes and was really surprised and touched to see this explanation.

The park covered at least 2 city blocks and had lots of well-tended green grass, courts for tennis and basketball and volleyball, a skateboard park, several picnic shelters in addition to other picnic tables - lots of stuff.  I took the dogs there several times and rarely found more than a few people there and almost never another dog.  

In addition to their trash cans, they had receptacles for all recycle materials except glass.  I hadn't been able to find any recycle drop-off place in town for that stuff, so I put several bags of things there - milk bottles and plastics and boxes and papers.

A half-mile down the street is the local campus for Coconino Community College, and that's where the city drop-off point is for glass recyclables.  The website says it's for residents only, but I found it in the middle of the school's parking lot and nobody ever came over to ask what I thought I was doing (what with my Texas license plate and all).  So I felt a lot of relief in getting rid of all those things I'd been carting around because I couldn't stand to just throw them away.

I found 2 grocery stores in Flagstaff.  The Safeway was adequate but not at all impressive.  The locally-owned Fry's Food and Drug, on the other hand, was much more than adequate and very impressive - especially for a locally-owned place.  Usually it's the national chains that can afford the extras.  I was glad to find it, even though it was on the other side of town from the campground.

The KOA here was on a slope in a heavily wooded area.  Very nice, and it would certainly have been really attractive in July, but in December it was pretty chilly since it was so shady.  Plus, with all the hills they only had a few campsites that were level and those were booked for the time I was there.  Still, it worked out okay for us and the folks were pleasant and sympathetic.

As I mentioned, one of my problems with sightseeing trips was the weather.  The daytime temp kept getting lower all week - 46° on Tuesday down to 34° on Friday.  But the real problem was the nighttime temps - in the 20s until Friday, when it got down to 8°.  And snow beginning Thursday afternoon.  

Flagstaff is in the mountainous region of Arizona, and the Grand Canyon and Sonora are part of the same region.  With the lows at night, I didn't want to set out early each day to drive somewhere and risk running into ice on the roads.  Our appointment at the vet was at 10:00 in the morning, and it took the best part of an hour so we could have left afterwards for some sightseeing, but I figured that late in the day, by the time we got anywhere, so would lots of other people.  And my eye appointment was at 1:00 - too early in the day to go anywhere in the morning and too late in the day to go anywhere afterwards.  That left only Thursday and Friday, and by then the snow was forecast.  All very understandable but not at all what I'd planned.

The vet

Lily got her claws clipped, all the critters got all their annual shots and got declared healthy, and I asked the vet about Gracie falling down so much.  He guessed kidney failure, which is reasonably common in old cats but not so common in dogs.  He took a blood sample to see if he could figure out what was going on with her and told me to call the next day for results.

Which I did and learned that because her readings were borderline, he didn't want to say for certain, but he did figure it was a kidney problem.  He sold me some pills to give her to help with her balance and also sold me some kidney food - which it turned out Gracie actually likes - Purina ProPlan for kidney problems.  And he told me to get another vet's opinion wherever I was in a month.  So it wasn't conclusive, but at least it was something.  Much better than the free-floating anxiety I've been dealing with on her behalf for some weeks now.

The eye doctor

I've always relied on optometrists to help me with my vision problems, but all this black floaty stuff had me scared enough that I decided I needed an ophthalmologist.  Hard to find any doctor willing to take on a new patient within a reasonable time, but I got an appointment with the Eye and Laser Center in Flagstaff.  My appt. was with an optometrist, but they scheduled me for a time when an ophthalmologist would be available in case the optometrist thought he needed assistance.

Which is what happened.  The optometrist looked into my eye and said he thought it was a detached retina and, if that's what it was, I was in serious danger of losing my eyesight in that eye unless I had corrective surgery ASAP.  But he decided to ask for a 2nd opinion, and the ophthalmologist (weird word to pronounce and to spell) took a look and said not a detached retina but a retinal hemorrhage (another weird word), and the black stuff floating around was blood.  

He said the solution for that was a vitrectomy - substituting another fluid for the vitreous fluid that's in my eye now (what the blood is floating around in).  They both knew I was only temporarily in Flagstaff and recommended a retina clinic in the Phoenix area, where I'd planned to go next.  He too urged quick action on the repair work.

I made an appointment at a clinic in Mesa, near Phoenix, but then, as we all do these days, I looked it all up on my computer.  I noted that after a vitrectomy, a patient can't drive for at least several days, if not several weeks.  In fact, in some cases, the patient needs to lie face down for several days while everything in the eye settles down.  Well, I couldn't figure how either of those things would be possible with the kind of life I'm leading - how on earth would I be able to take the dogs out for walks if I had to lie on my face?  I could maybe find a place to board them, but there'd still be Lily who is certainly much lower maintenance, but she's not maintenance-free - the litter box has to be cleaned out several times a day besides feeding her.  It just couldn't be done.

So I decided to dump us all on David and Anna so at least there'd be somebody to be substitute parents if I had to be out of commission.  I hated to ask - especially because I wasn't so much asking as explaining that I didn't have any options (i.e. leaning all over them).  And of course they said yes and generously said that option would be less worrying for them.

I decided to leave on Saturday because the weather was supposed to be improving then.  And I planned a route where I could do some serious driving and make it to Dallas on Monday.  And I found a retina clinic not far from their house that agreed to take me on Tuesday morning.

It all seemed sudden, but it's amazing how much urgency can get packed into a diagnosis of permanent sight loss without immediate action.

Arizona - Day 6 - Painted Desert, Petrified Forest, and to Flagstaff

Flagstaff KOA, Flagstaff

Monday, 6 December 2021

today's route

Holbrook advertises itself as being the gateway to the Petrified Forest National Park and, as far as I can figure out, sits actually within the Painted Desert.  The area protected as painted desert is just a fraction of its true extent, which runs through the Petrified Forest as well.  Anyway, since I was in the neighborhood of those areas, I thought I'd drop by.

On the road

There are 2 visitor centers - the one focused on the Painted Desert sits on I-40 and is about 20 miles from Holbrook; the other focused on the Petrified Forest is down at the southern end of the protected area near US-180. 

The scenic drive for the combined two parks is 28 miles one way, most through the Petrified Forest south of I-40.

Painted Desert

This sign was at an overlook along the route.

These next 2 photos were taken at that same overlook, and I'm including them both so you can see the difference direct sun makes on the colors.

I was surprised to find that in most places the colors were more pastel, not nearly as vivid as I'd expected.

That sign just identifies some of the visible landmarks.
I didn't edit it out because it shows much more striking colors than my own photo.

Like I said - pastels.

Pastels with a few deeper hues.

Petrified Forest National Park

I crossed I-40 and didn't see more painted desert until quite a bit farther along the drive.  I didn't see petrified wood, either, at first, and as I understand it I'd have been able to see a great deal more if I'd gone for walks along some of their trails.  But I did see a few areas of the wood from the road.

I took another photo from a closer angle that turned out too out of focus to include.
But I saw more pieces at the visitor center.

They have signs everywhere begging people not to pick up souvenirs, saying folks can buy plenty at their gift center.  And I imagine a whole lot of the park has been carried off over the years before it was protected.

I was actually more interested in the odd land forms.  Here's a sample.

Even though it's gray, the layers of color are fascinating.
And the shape it's been given by wind (probably) is beautiful.

And here are some of the exhibits at the visitor center, explaining it all.

text is enlarged at right

photo of one type of conifer

Two more types of conifers.

So all that desert area I'd been driving through this morning
is explained here as being a cover over Triassic soils.  Amazing.

This sample of petrified wood sits outside the visitor center.
Hard to believe it's rock and not wood any more.

petrified wood - see
explanation below right

This sign explains that beautiful
piece of rock above left.

Note this talks about deposits near the equator - see why this matters below.

One of the best explanations of plate tectonics I've seen.

This view shows how Arizona actually sat on the Equator long ago.

I'm including this expanded view of that same map
because it labels the land mass as Pangaea.

I remember when I visited Fossil Butte National Monument in Wyoming they had a timeline of Earth's many changes (when lichens started forming, for instance), and one of them mentioned Pangea.  I had to look it up in earlier blog entries of course (you know I didn't actually remember all this detail), but I found one entry on their timeline was that Supercontinent Pangea was formed 250 million years ago, and that it broke up 200 million years ago.  According to this map here, Pangea included both North and South America as well as Europe and apparently some of Russia too.  No wonder they called it a supercontinent.

Back on the road

As I was leaving the park, I saw a sign warning me to watch out for men wearing hats and riding horses.  At least, that's what was pictured on the standard yellow warning sign.

Coming back into Holbrook on my way west, I saw a sign saying "Home of the Hashknife Pony Express."  None of that made much sense to me, but I looked it up anyway and am very glad I did.  There still is an official pony express that has a contract with the US Postal Service and once a year delivers 20,000 pieces of 1st class mail from Holbrook to Scottsdale.  Here's an explanation.   https://www.hashknifeponyexpress.com/hashknife-history  Who'd ever have thunk it?

My route included part of Historic Route 66, and I passed the Wigwam Motel, which looked about as you'd expect from its name.  I mention it because in front of each wigwam was an old vehicle that may have driven Rte. 66 back in the old days.  I found this photo online.

I came across another of those elevation 5,000' signs, and at least this one was only 3 miles from a town.

I passed warning signs about blowing dust, saw lots of tumbleweeds blown up against the fence along the highway, passed the Homolovi Ruins State Park (preserves ruins of Hopi dwellings from the 1200s and 1300s) and crossed the Colorado River twice.

And then I came to Winslow, elev. 4,850', est. 1880, where I expected to see someone standing on the corner.  And I did see one person standing on a corner near the post office, waiting for the light to change.  The downtown area has been declared a national historic district and is still much intact.  But I'm very sorry to say the town looks very tired and rundown, with many boarded up buildings.  Route 66 runs through town, of course, as the Eagles suggested, but if it ever had charm, I'm afraid the spark has gone out.

I saw a sign advertising "Johnny Martinez Plumbing - Call Us or Screw It Up Yourself."  Which is likely a winning advertising slogan.

As I was driving out of town I passed a sign that said, "A Galaxy Not Too Far Away (for Star Wars fans) and then "Meteor Crater 19 Miles."  I didn't stop for it but understand that a meteorite did hit here maybe 50,000 years ago.  It's been declared a National Natural Landmark, but because it's still privately owned it doesn't have any real government protection.  And I imagine as long as the owners can get people to cough up a lot of money (senior admission is $22), it'll stay that way.

Near exit 245 I saw another sign saying the elevation was 5,000' (I guess Winslow's down in a bit of a hole), and near milepost 217 I saw still another sign saying elevation was 6,000'.

I passed Padre Canyon and Coconino National Forest.  And at about that point the crosswinds got really squirrely, making me glad I didn't have much farther to drive.

All along today's drive I'd been seeing tall mountains in a mist, getting closer and closer as we drove west.  The only mountain range my AAA map shows in that area is the Juniper Mountains, so maybe that's what they are.  I passed a sign for Walnut Canyon, and then one for Walnut Canyon National Monument.  That area protects the remains of cliff dwellings used by the Sinagua who lived there 1100 to 1250.

And then to the Flagstaff KOA, where we had a reservation for the next 5 nights.

Arizona - Day 5 - to Holbrook

Holbrook KOA, Holbrook
Sunday, 5 December 2021

today's route

I covered about another third of the state today.

On the road

Before I left Globe I saw signs for the Besh Ba Gowah Archaeological Park, which I hadn't heard of.  It turns out to be a site near Globe with ruins of the Salado people who lived here about 800 years ago.  Maybe like the Anasazi ruins I saw in Utah?  Someplace interesting to visit when I come back with more time.

I left town heading north, which the highway numbering people call east, on US-60, where I stayed for a couple of hours.  A sign told me to "Watch for Animals Next 81 Miles."  A shame I didn't see any animals to speak of on either this highway or on AZ-80 between Tombstone and Benson a couple of days ago.  False advertising.

I passed a sign saying the AZ State Prison was down a road to my right.  And another sign saying the Gila County Fairgrounds were down that same road.  That seemed like an odd combination to me so I looked it up and, sure enough, they're both down that same road.  It dead-ends at the prison, and the fairgrounds are part-way along it.  I tried to see if they have a prison rodeo here, but the internet didn't want to tell me.

I was about a third of the way down a steep hill when I saw a sign telling me the elevation there was 5,000'.  I just don't understand those signs - when did I start seeing them - Utah?  What is the point of putting that information out in the middle of nowhere?  And in Utah they posted those signs at 3,000' and 4,000' also.  Why don't they tell me the elevation at the top of the hill or at the bottom of a hill?  That might be useful and interesting.  Is there some magic about 5,000'?  I don't remember seeing them in Colorado, for instance.

Today's drive took me around curves and up & down steep hills.  I was on a long steep winding hill when I came across a horse campground, with a sign saying closed - maybe for winter?  Some states cater much more for horses than others, even including whole sections of state campgrounds for horses and their riders.

I passed through the Tonto National Forest, which I assumed was named for the Lone Ranger's pal, showing how dumb I can be.  It turns out that "tonto" means dumb in Spanish, and the national forest and nearby river basin were both named for the Tonto Apache band that lived in this area.  The interesting story of how a tribe came to be called dumb is told by a park volunteer in this blog post.   https://www.npca.org/how-a-spectacular-park-got-its-dumb-name  Enough to make me want to come back some day to view the remains he speaks about.

I passed through the San Carlos Apache Reservation, then the town of Seneca which seemed nonexistent from the road and is so small it isn't even incorporated.  And I came to elk warning signs (but still haven't seen one).

I kept encountering 6% grades - "next 3 miles," "next 5 miles," "next 3 miles."  In between was a sign warning me of "curves, mountain grades next 3 miles" and I learned that "mountain grades" means steep - maybe so steep they didn't want to worry me by telling me the grade?  I came to a series of 13 signs, all warning of "switchbacks."  I was unfortunately on the downhill side of the road, so I wanted to go slowly on those hills and switchbacks, but I had cars camped on my tail that wanted to go faster and no place to pull over.

The rock in this area was deep red, like I saw in Monument Valley in Utah and Arizona.

I passed the Fort Apache Historic Park, a tribal museum that includes a couple dozen original and reconstructed buildings from the late 1800s, when US soldiers, including Buffalo Soldiers, were stationed here to try to keep the peace between the Apache and other Native tribes in the area.  After it was decommissioned, it was used as a BIA boarding school, which used the unpopular practice of discouraging Navajo children (though it was on Apache land) from continuing traditions and language of their tribes, all under the guise of educating them.

The whole road was laced with deep canyons (with road surfaces to match), some of which were named on highway signs: Salt River Canyon, Cedar Canyon, Corduroy Canyon.  Signs that promised "deer, next 5 miles" and "horses, next 3 miles" with as much result as those that promised elk.

I came to a sign for the Sitgreaves National Forest, which the Forest Service says they manage together with the Apache National Forest, since they're right on top of each other.  All together they include 2.7 million acres of land that some call God's Country.

I came to the town of Show Low, elev. 6,331 and est. 1870 (Arizona highway signs show this information for most towns).  The town is named after a card game played in 1876 - and here's the story according to the town.   https://www.roadtripamerica.com/Show-Low  I guess it's as good a way to name a town as any other.  And it really does have a street named Deuce of Clubs - I saw it.  This is now one of northern AZ's faster growing cities, with a population of more than 11,000 in the 2020 census.  We stopped at the local campus of Northern Arizona University to take a walk and have some lunch.

I passed a sign saying:

            Trump

        America First

   Join the Resistance

I figured it was a pro-Trump sign, but after looking it up, I'm not sure.  Around the 2016 election, the "resistance" was against Trump being president, and efforts in that direction continued through his term.  But in these days of mass denial of reality about the election results, the "resistance" may be something like the actions on Jan. 6th.

I stopped to get some gasoline and a woman filling her RAV4 said she'd been the victim of road rage.  She hadn't accelerated fast enough getting on the highway and a guy had pulled around her and then stopped suddenly.  She said the damage it did to her tires to stop that fast cost her 4 new ones.  She said if she ever found out who did it, she'd buy a dozen eggs and decorate his car.  People who aren't willing to talk to strangers miss so much.

From Show Low, I switched to US-77 where I was once again promised elk in the next 10 miles, then deer.  Of course I saw none of either species.

The town of Snowflake, elev. 5,630' and est. 1878, isn't named for the little piece of Nature you'd expect.  Instead, it was named for early Mormon settlers Erastus Snow and William Flake.  Really.  It now has 6,100 residents and is one of 4 locations of the Northland Pioneer community college.  A sign in town told me, "We Vote God First."

Since soon after Globe, I've passed highway signs saying "Watch for Ice."  The thing about them is that they're that kind that are hinged in the middle and are opened when the weather warrants.  The fact that the highway folks think the weather warrants opening them now has me worried.  Outside Snowflake, another sign told me there was a Regional Ice Alert on and it May Be Present On Roadway.  The day had finally become sunny by then, so I wasn't too worried, but I did use caution on bridges.

Up in this part of the state I saw lots of red dirt and far fewer hills, giving me a much greater sight distance than I'd had all day.

And finally I got to Holbrook, along the Little Colorado River.  Its elevation is 5,080', meaning I climbed 1,400' today from Globe's 3,510'.

Arizona - Day 4 - to Globe

Gila County RV Park, Globe

Saturday, 4 December 2021

today's route

I was heading about a third of the way up the state today, and Google said I had a choice of routes.  I chose to keep going west to Tucson (so as not to redrive about the same distance back over interstate I'd already been on) and then head north to the town of Globe.

On the road

Tucson (elev. 2,643') set its city limits sign 21 miles away from the actual town.  Planning for growth, no doubt.  I passed several places I might want to visit when I come back later in the month: Pima Air & Space Museum (one of the world's largest non-government funded aerospace museums), the Desert Museum, officially the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum (one of the top 10 museums in the US, per TripAdvisor), Old Tucson (where movies and TV programs were filmed, closed indefinitely due to Covid).

We stopped at the Tucson Mall to stretch our legs, and I was surprised that at 9:00 on a Saturday, there was almost no one in the mall parking lot.

We passed a man who was picking up litter, an admirable activity, and he seemed to be on his own - not part of an organized clean-up program

Today was the day of the Tucson Marathon, I discovered the hard way.  I drove at least 10 miles of the race route (I checked the odometer), dodging runners sharing a road that suddenly narrowed from 2 lanes to 1 without any warning (other cars didn't want to let me merge).  It seemed like a long 10 miles.

I passed a turn for Biosphere 2, which I'd never heard of.  It's a large Earth science research facility that was originally privately funded but is now owned by the University of Arizona.  It's a 3+ acre structure that's an artificially closed ecological system and originally expected to help preserve human life in space, with varying degrees of success over the years.

I drove past miles and miles of saguaro cactus (I had to look it up to be sure that's what kind it was).

saguaro cactus

This is an internet photo, but it's also what I saw.  Sometimes it seemed like a forest of them, which isn't a word I usually connect with cactus.

I passed a turn labeled Copper Corridor East Scenic Road.  The Copper Corridor is a series of small historical mining towns just south of Arizona's "horizontal divide," according to a tourist organization.

The road wound along by the San Pedro River, which looked completely dry.  Later I came to Dripping Springs Wash, which apparently had stopped dripping because the wash was also dry.

sample of countryside

The road began a long climb with curves and s-curves, an elevation of 4,983' and an 8% grade to liven things up.

Globe

Then I came to Globe, elev. 3,544', est. 1876, with a population of 7,249 per the 2020 census.  It was only midday so we stopped in downtown to stretch for a bit before going on to the campground.

The town was first named Globe City honoring a chunk of silver discovered nearby that was 9" in diameter and resembled a globe.

Across the street from City Hall was the Holy Angels Roman Catholic Church, built 1916.

Holy Angels Catholic Church

The carvings on the outside are what intrigued me.

carvings at the 4 corners of the tower top

at the center front of the church

Apparently this church inside is nothing like its outside - the outside is in the Roman Romanesque style while the inside is more like Italian Renaissance.  If I'd been in town any longer, I'd have liked to see it.

In front of City Hall was a display of local history, which included the town's founding as a mining camp based on discoveries of silver and copper.  I remember noticing the name Big Nose Kate in stories about Tombstone's early days, so I was interested to see a photo of her here.

I don't think the size of her nose is too out of line.

I saw signs saying that the first Friday of each month is a Food Truck Roundup and Car Cruise.  It sounds like fun and I was sorry today was the first Saturday, so we missed it.

The county RV park was just across a short somewhat rickety bridge from City Hall.  It was in 2 parts: the old part, which I was in, that didn't have any amenities besides several batting cages; and the new part, which had new showers but was directly on US-70 (noisy) and had zero ambiance.  It was a weird little place, but I'd had a very hard time finding anywhere at all for us to stay in this area, so we dealt with the oddnesses.

Arizona - Day 3 - St. David & Tombstone

Benson KOA, Benson

Friday, 3 December 2021

today's route

My brother brought it to my attention not long ago that I've been finding towns named for everyone in the family but him.  And he's right - the most I've found have been a few streets named David, but no towns.

So when I was planning my trip today to Tombstone, I was delighted to find that AZ not only named a town David but actually elevated him to sainthood.  So St. David was my first stop.

On the road

St. David (elev. 3,676) is less than 10 miles from Benson and looks like a nice little place.  It was established in 1877 by Mormon settlers (the original St. David was an early Mormon apostle) and now has just over 1,600 residents.  St. David, "Home of the Tigers," was the site of a CCC camp before WWII.  I saw a sign directing me to "The Original Thomas Nut House," and I can't find anything online that tells me what I missed; Thomas Nut doesn't seem to have been an early Mormon settler or a local dignitary or even the name of one of the pecan orchards nearby.  

I stopped at the post office, told them about my brother and asked if they'd be sure my card had a St. David postmark, which they gladly did with a hand stamp.  I guess most mail gets sent to Benson for postmarking.  Both the postal clerk and the man behind me in line looked delighted to hear my story, so it brightened the day for several of us.  Then the dogs and I walked around a bit and got back on the road.

Tombstone

Tombstone, elev. 4,539', established 1879 - "The Town Too Tough To Die" - is a registered national historic landmark.  I was curious about that slogan - too tough to die - and found this description of the town's history online.   https://www.legendsofamerica.com/az-tombstone  The town still has many of its original buildings, such as the original Cochise County Courthouse (the county seat is now in Bisbee).  These next 3 photos, by the way, are all off the internet because I could never get any kind of angle to take my own.

county courthouse, built 1882

St. Paul's Episcopal Church is still in its original building.

St. Paul's, built 1882

And I particularly liked the masonic temple.

King Solomon Territorial Masonic Lodge #5
and Schieffelin Hall, built in 1881.

It claims to be the largest standing adobe structure in the US and was built to be an opera house and meeting hall for local residents.  The Masonic Hall has used the upstairs for its lodge since 1881 (still in use).

Tombstone has put all its money on tourism: the main street is unpaved, dirt-covered, and pedestrian only.  When I crossed it, I saw about a dozen men standing around in period clothes.  The town advertises frequent gunfights, so I assumed they were waiting to reenact the OK Corral fight.  Which didn't originally occur at the OK Corral but instead a few doors down the street.  I think the movies are to blame for the mis-branding.

The real main street in town is AZ-80, aka Fremont Street.  I'd hoped to be able to park somewhere and walk around the historic district, but there just wasn't room anywhere for us, what with the other main street being for pedestrians only.  Instead, I found a place on the real main street, and the dogs and I walked around the block.  That turned out to be lucky because that block included the old house owned by Wyatt Earp.  I think it might be open to the public at times, but not the day I was there.  These next 3 photos are mine.

The Wyatt Earp House

information on that sign you can see on the right
of my house photo above

Nearby there's what appears to be a life-size statue of Wyatt:

As I drove out of town, I passed a sign for Boot Hill Graveyard, and another one for the Jewish Memorial National Historic Register.  I assumed the graveyard would be as tourist-oriented as the rest of the town, so I didn't stop, but I was curious about the Jewish Memorial.  Apparently, in the 1980s a local historian mentioned to a visitor who was Jewish that there was once a Jewish cemetery in town.  They and a local friend, who was full-blooded Indian, went to look and found a mess.  An old track led from Boot Hill down to an area overgrown with weeds and completely lacking in grave markers.  But intensive hard work by the friend cleared up the ground, rebuilt the path, refenced the area and built a small memorial to the Jewish pioneers.  Historians think as many as a tenth of early Tombstone inhabitants were Jewish.  I never thought to question the religious affiliation of those early settlers, especially given Tombstone's reputation for lawlessness, but now I know.

Back on the road

As soon as I was out of town, I saw a highway sign that said, "Watch for Animals Next 112 Miles."  That still seems like an odd message to me, though maybe other drivers don't have short-term memory problems like mine, but why would the highway department expect people to remember this message for 112 miles?

The countryside was unusual to me.  Plenty of mountains fairly close to the road on both sides - some with sharp points and others that were rounded mounds.  Lots of shrubs that were 4' - 6' tall and mixed with grass and cactus.  I drove through both hills and flat lands.

When we got back to St. David, I saw a car stopped beside the road and 2 people standing near the sign with the town's name on it.  A woman who looked maybe 40s was taking a picture of a man who looked in his 70s or 80s.  I'm guessing his name was David.

Toward the end I saw a sign saying US-80 was designated Historic, so I looked it up.  Back in the 20s, portions of US-80 were built in each southern state, and it was known as the Ocean to Ocean Highway.  The sections in AZ constituted the first paved roads in the state.  As new highways were built, it became less useful and in the 80s was finally decommissioned as a US highway and became a state highway instead, and that's what I drove on between Benson and Tombstone.  I thought that ocean-to-ocean thing sounded familiar and learned that I drove Louisiana's portion of it during my month in that state.  In several other states, it's been realigned as part of an interstate highway, but LA still embraces its history.

As I came into Benson I saw a sign I hadn't seen when I came in from the east: Elev. 3,580', Est. 1880.  Benson has some murals around town, but none of them was in a place where I could easily take a photo - mostly local scenes.

Waiting as a train rumbled past, I realized I miss cabooses.  They acted like a period at the end of a sentence.  Not having them makes the train just sort of trail off like it forgot what it was going to say . . .

Arizona - Day 2 - in the campground

Benson KOA, Benson

Thursday, 2 December 2021

I still have black stuff floating around in my left eye, so I made an appointment at an eye clinic in Flagstaff for next week.  And while I was about it, I made appointments at a Flagstaff vet for all 3 of the critters to get their annual shots.  I figured I'd ask the vet about Gracie's balance problem while we were there.  Today, she fell over onto her side, in addition to falling back onto her rear legs.  There's nothing that seems to trigger these episodes - she's just standing there or sitting there and suddenly she falls over.  Then she looks confused and gets back up again.

Once I'd gotten those appointments, I made reservations at campgrounds between here and Flagstaff, and worked with Google on driving directions to all these places.  And finally, I planned a visit to Tombstone tomorrow.  I would rather not do extra driving, given my eyesight problem, but it didn't seem right to come to Arizona and not at least take a look at famous Tombstone.

I'd also wanted to visit the Bisbee turquoise mine, which is a few more miles beyond Tombstone, but some online searching told me it's closed.  I could visit gift stores in town if I wanted to buy turquoise, but that didn't appeal to me.  Long ago, my husband and I came through there (so he could look at birds), and I bought a small turquoise ring there.  I was hoping to do something similar this time, but I don't know enough about turquoise to be sure what I'm buying is the real thing.  I know sometimes people will radiate turquoise to make it look more blue, and I didn't want to take that chance.

Vermillion Flycatcher

Gorgeous, isn't he?  I saw one of them here in the campground.  I'd taken the dogs to the dog park and was waiting while they checked the place out, and suddenly saw this bright red bird in a tree.  I thought I was imagining it, but the bird stuck around plenty long enough for me to get a good look at him.  Just beautiful.

Arizona - Day 1 - getting there

Benson KOA, Benson

Wednesday, 1 December 2021

today's route

You can see that almost half of today's drive was still in New Mexico, but at least I got to see a few things I missed during November.

On the road

I wasn't even out of Silver City when I saw a sign I hadn't seen earlier, telling me this was the Gateway to the Wild and Scenic Gila River.  I didn't know the Gila was designated "wild & scenic."

Farther along, a road sign said I was passing through the town of White Signal, but I saw a total of 1 house and a sign saying I'd find the community center if I turned left.  But I learned online that it technically has 181 residents (per the 2010 census), yet it hasn't had a post office since 1933.  I don't know why the PO got yanked or where all those folks live, but I do know the town was named for a nearby outcropping of white quartz, which folks thought looked like a signal when the sun shone on it.  There're stories everywhere if we bother to look, and some of them died when the last person who knew them died.  I'm guessing White Signal is among them.

I crossed part of the Gila National Forest, crossed the Continental Divide Trail, and once again crossed the Continental Divide itself (elev. 6,355').  From there the road took me down into a broad plain with mountains all around.

The town of Lordsburg (elev. 4,245') was founded in 1880 and now looks like a tired dusty desert town that loves its children (based on the appearance of the school buildings and playgrounds).  It has a Lee Trevino Avenue, and I can't figure out why.  The famous golfer was never any closer to Lordsburg than a golf course in Tucson, as far as I can figure out, and I didn't even see a golf course here.

I stopped to walk the dogs alongside some baseball diamonds with what looked like an abandoned motel across the street.  Part way through our walk, an older couple drove by and warned me that wild pigs had recently been finding a water source near that motel, that the couple lived nearby and were out looking to see if the pigs had come back.  So I hustled the dogs back to the RV, not wanting to see what effect a bunch of wild pigs would have on Dexter.  As we drove away, I could see that the motel was not abandoned, but on the contrary a half dozen folks were staying there.  I'm guessing those folks didn't know what that motel looked like on its backside (in decay and disrepair), or maybe it was affordable.

At Lordsburg I picked up I-10 (poor road surface - what does NM spend its gas tax on?) and began seeing some ominous signs:

   - "Dust Storm" surrounded by lights that would flash when needed

   - "Caution - Dust Storms - Zero Visibility Possible - Do Not Stop In Traffic Lane"

   - "In A Dust Storm - Pull Off Roadway - Turn Vehicle Off - Feet Off Brakes - Stay Buckled" (I saw that series 14 times)

   - "Dust Storms Possible Next 10 Miles (or 5 miles)"

I passed a bicyclist wearing a green fluorescent jacket that said "Jesus Saves."

I got off at Exit 3 because the road had been so rough my frig started beeping in that irritating way it has, and I didn't want to keep listening to it.  Just off the access road I saw a bunch of stone buildings that looked abandoned and wondered if there were a ghost town there.  Turns out that's exactly what it is - Steins Ghost Town.  There was a post office here from 1888 until 1944, and for some years the town did dual duty as a railway stop and a mining town.  The ghost town might be closed now - apparently the owner was murdered there in 2012, but the family was going to try to reopen the town, though they may have given up on that idea.  Conflicting accounts online.  And all I wanted to do was hush up my frig.

Then "Welcome to Arizona - The Grand Canyon State."

Arizona - my 35th state

Almost as soon as I crossed the border, Arizona informed me that there was "No Median Barrier Next 127 Miles."  Which seemed almost bizarre since the median was at least an eighth of a mile wide so why would we want a barrier, and since other states haven't seemed to need to warn me about their lack of median barriers.

Another sign told me Arizona celebrated its Centennial 1912 - 2012.  I was curious what had taken them so long to become a state, and I've found several possible reasons.  Both Arizona and New Mexico (and 5 other states) were given to the US after the Mexican-American War and the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo in 1848.  A few years later, the Gadsden Purchase got the US the southern part of today's AZ and NM.  But back then, (1) both were sparsely populated, and then (2) the War Between the States erupted for 5 long years.  The (3) Navajo and Apache tribes resident in AZ objected strenuously to the incursions into their territories, but by the 1880s they had been defeated.  Meanwhile first silver and then copper were discovered, but it was mostly mine owners who got rich, not workers.  By the 1880s and 1890s, (4) AZ boomtowns had earned a national reputation for AZ as a place where arguments were decided with a gun.  Then (5) Congress was concerned AZ's admission would upset the balance of power between political parties, and instead suggested AZ and NM join as 1 state.  (6) NM was okay with that but AZ wasn't, because NM had a much higher percentage of Hispanics, who Arizonans didn't want to associate with.  Finally Congress agreed they could join as 2 separate states, but then (7) AZ proposed a state constitution that was unacceptable to Pres. Taft (among other things, it included recall provisions for state judges).  Congress approved it, Taft vetoed it, AZ took out the offending provisions, their statehood got approved, and AZ put the provisions back in again.  With all that, I'm no longer surprised statehood took so long.

I guess the dust didn't stop at the state line because I saw more signs: 

   - "During Limited Visibility Pull Off Road - Turn Off Lights" 

   - "When Dust Blows Tune To 530 AM When Lights Flash" 

   - "Blowing Dust Area Next 30 Miles" 

   - "Limited Visibility When Flashing"

I passed at least 30 semis lined up at the state's weigh station, though it looked like they were running them through fairly quickly.

I passed at least 8 orchards, though I don't know what they grow in season.  Also a vineyard.

Near the town of Bowie, we passed the Fort Bowie National Historic Site, which is apparently at such risk of losing artifacts that the National Park Service has made it a hike-in-only park.  It's a 3-mile round trip that passes the site of the Battle of Apache Pass and ends at the remains of Ft. Bowie.  

I looked up the battle and can report that it was fought in 1862 between Chiricahua Apache warriors and Union soldiers marching east from California.  They had already been successful in overpowering a Confederate garrison in Tucson and forced them to retreat to Texas (the southern part of AZ had been trying to join the Confederacy).  Then the Union soldiers continued east to join and reinforce Union troops in New Mexico.  That's when they in turn were nearly overwhelmed by the Apache, who had greater numbers and an advantageous fighting position.  But the Union soldiers had heavy artillery which took enough of a toll on the Apache that they left the fight.

Farther along the road I came to Texas Canyon, known for its giant granite boulders.  Giant as in some were as big as houses.  And some of those I saw were in precarious positions, as if gravity will be taking over soon.  And there was a sign: "Defacing Rocks Unlawful."  I can't even conceive of why this message should be necessary, but the quantity of graffiti in the world makes it clear somebody didn't get raised right.

And then we got to Benson, which seems to be a nice enough town, but I can't see that it has a lot going for it other than location.  It touts the nearby Kartchner Caverns (limestone caves) State Park and the town of Tombstone less than a half hour away.  Benson's Historical Museum, though, says visitors can "Discover the Glyptdont."  That's a typo - the critter is actually named glyptodont, was extinct about the time humans showed up here, and seems to be the ancient ancestor to armadillos.  They may have resembled the VW Beetle, in size, shape and weight.  I can't tell if they have some sort of remains from the glyptodonts in the museum or if they just think they used to live here so they made an exhibit about them.  The entrance fee seems to be $7, which is more than I want to pay for a local museum.

At least 4 times today, Gracie suddenly fell back on her rear legs, as if they'd given way.  I'm starting to get worried about her.