Thread: Kiwis on Route 66

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Originally Posted by rspears

jb,
. Whadda Ya think?? .

What do I think?

Get thee behind me Satan!

Sunday 6th October.

Our last day here in the States.
A bit late getting on the road today, as it's our last day we had to re-pack bags/suitcases (both us and the Smelsers,) to minimise the number and individual weight of each one.
Dick was sitting in the rear door of the van, with it opened above him, when we came down with the last few bits and pieces.
The doors on this car can all be operated remotely from the key ring . . . and I had the 'other' key ring in my pocket . . .

Sometimes a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do; 'cos if a man doesn't do what a man's gotta do, then what a man's gotta do doesn't get done . . .

So I pressed the button on the key ring to shut the rear door.

Well golly gosh!

Dick might not be so young anymore, but he leapt like a wasp had crawled up the leg of his trousers and introduced itself.
Haven't laughed so hard since Ma jammed her tits in the mangle.

But anyway: the rest of the day ('til around 3:00 pm,) we gave the girls full reign to go shopping for girly things
I'm so kind and thoughtful and tolerant sometimes that I surprise even myself. But I did alright too: I've got a telephone box at home, and for some time I've been looking for a Superman suit to hang inside it, I mean; that's where I've traditionally changed!
And today I found one.
All good.
Sometimes it's cool to go into clothes' shops.

But all good things must end; so around 3:00 o'clock we all piled into the car, headed for the rental return, shuttle, and LAX.
Dick and Susie got off before we did, the shuttle won't wait, so farewells were brief.
But we'll be back.
Hell yeah!

A bloody gorgeous time meeting some bloody gorgeous people.

Thank-you.
Thank-you all very much.

jb and She Who Must Be Obeyed.

Originally Posted by johnboy

But I did alright too: I've got a telephone box at home, and for some time I've been looking for a Superman suit to hang inside it, I mean; that's where I've traditionally changed!
And today I found one.
All good.
Sometimes it's cool to go into clothes' shops.

Ok, I can see it now....Johnboy in the Superman suit in your telephone box!! Pics required!!!!

Originally Posted by randyr

Ok, I can see it now....Johnboy in the Superman suit in your telephone box!! Pics required!!!!

Oh we can post pics of me entering the telephone box; but none when I exit.

'Cos when I exit I'm 'faster than a speeding bullet' . . . way too fast for a camera to catch . . .

Sounds like a great trip was had, you'll have to head northwest next trip! Ditto on the pics and phone booth!

Originally Posted by johnboy

Oh we can post pics of me entering the telephone box; but none when I exit. 'Cos when I exit I'm 'faster than a speeding bullet' . . . way too fast for a camera to catch . . .

That's good 'cos some things should never be viewed by any human!!

Thanks for all the updates too.. it was fun to follow your adventures across the country!

What an amazing trip you guys had!

Yep; it was amazing.
It was great.
It was amazingly great fun too.

And it was the people we met that made it so.

Some more of you fellas should do it yourselves; hey: it's your country!

. . . and the realisation of dreams comes in cans . . . not cannots . . .

When our kids get older we plan to make some big trips like this but right now it's just a traveling circus as all 3 of our kids are 2.5 or under.

Thanks for the progress reports Johnboy, entertaining reading :-) A trip like that is on my bucket list.

Great read, johnboy. Glad you enjoyed your travels and encounters here. I hope to do the same in En Zed some day soon.

Give us a yell when you decide to do it.
With all the Kiwis on this forum we should be able to pass you around to maximise the pleasure of your journey.

I should have posted this up yonks ago; I had it finished within a week of us returning home. Mea culpa!
This is a resume of the entire trip in a chronological order, from go to whoa.

Dunno how the site will cope with a posting this large; but here goes:

Our Route 66 Trip.

Monday 16th September.

Daily driver through to New Plymouth to Pete and Trish Rawcliffes, who have offered to drive us to the airport, store our car, and come pick us up again upon our return.
So they duly dropped us off, and away we went to Auckland to catch our flight to L.A., and then on to Chicago.
Thanks people!

Flew out of New Plymouth to Dorcland 3:00 pm Wed arvo 16th Sept, from Dorcland to LA, from LA to O'Hare Chicago arriving Wed evening 9:30 utterly rooted.
Got accosted by a fella asking if we were for the Renaissance Hotel, thinking he was the shuttle driver I said: "Yep," and he led us to a car and off we went.
Had my suspicions on the way, which turned out to be well-founded . . . when we got to the pub he turned 'round and said: "$75 thanks."
Bugger!
I was conned!
But I was that rooted I didn't want to argue: just let me book in and get to bed!
Got about four hours sleep that night.
Totally exhausted, but the body clock just wasn’t functioning right; 4 o’clock in the morning I was walking the streets of Chicago.
This hotel is supposed to be a flash one; but our bedroom at home would be bigger
than our entire suite here.

Tuesday 17th September.

Next morning we shot around to Hertz to pick up our car (which we had insisted be fitted with GPS,) and headed back for the hotel.
What a nightmare!
We drove around and around in never decreasing circles with Lucy always putting me in the left or right lane when it was too late!
I had to try for the turn at the next intersection.
What a bloody shambles . . . Lucy's (the GPS,) responses were always too late to be acted upon.
(Worked out later that Lucy lost satellite contact underneath the railway tracks; then had to re-orientate herself when we emerged.)
Finally, we saw the place, charged through three lanes of traffic, around the corner, and pulled up outside.
Then I couldn't turn the bloody car (a Chrysler 300) off!
There was no key!
Turns out it is a 'proximity' key; the key only has to be in the proximity of the car for it to function and you press the 'start' button to stop it.
The nice (yeah right,) man at Avis never told me that, that would have been the last thing I’d have thought of; pressing ‘Start’ when the engine is running.
Told the man out the front to park the bloody thing...by this time (half an hour,) I'd had a gutsful.

Took a taxi in the arvo out to The Museum of Science and Industry and spent about five hours wandering around . . . very very impressed.
Even in that time there were parts we totally missed out, and some parts we hastened through faster than we would have liked.
But we saw Jerry Clayton's plane!
Unfortunately there was no-one around to whom I could put my 'boasting' cap on to.
Bugger!

Coxy rang last night to say that the bus can’t be registered, as I have to sign the ownership papers myself.
Rang him back this arvo to say: "Put it in your name and we'll alter it when we return/"
It was Mrs. Lynn who answered.
"Okay, we'll do that. Do you know what the time is?"
"No, what is the time?"
"Half-past one in the morning!"
Oops!
Sorry Mrs Lynn!
(Nah . . . not really.)
Tee-hee.

Wednesday 18th September.

The White Fence farm was only open from 5 pm to 9 pm . . . waste of time going there. But logging in to it on the gps guided us out of Chicago.
What a prick of a place to drive in; even when you're going contra to the rush hour.

Spent the night in Pontiac after taking in all the murals, the museums (nothing to rave over really,) met a bloke called Ken Something-unpronounceable-that-ended-in-hiem who's in the midst of setting up a car lot specialising in the type of car that appeals to us lot.
From a near mint '26 Dodge 'barn find to a Corvair to an El Camino and everything in between.
Much of the work I'd done on the inter-web was a waste it appears; many of these 'specialist' places just shut up shop after the summer school holiday period ends.
Pity but.
The motel was very run down, we were amongst just a handful of honkies, all the rest were Mexican . . . sitting outside watching the sun going down, sucking in a ciggie and a beer, and struck up a conversation with our neighbour
Nice enough chap, in his sixties, and never been further than a 200 mile radius of Pontiac in his life.
The heat is terrific, hit 98 degrees yesterday; gotta drink gallons of water to keep hydrated.
Trying the local brews, Bully! Porter was bloody gorgeous, Black Crown was shit, and tonight's Third Coast' (sic) Old Ale somewhere in-between.

.Thursday 19th September.

We made it to the Polka Dot Drive In, but were unable to contact pro70z28, (a CHR [Club Hot Rod, an interweb forum,] member,) so had to leave a message on his answer phone.
I was overly ambitious in what I thought we could achieve, some things just had to be missed out . . . this is one HUGE country!
Found Williamsville and Die-cast Auto Sales but it was closed . . . as we’d been told.
Bugger!
But managed to get a photo for Ray Looney through the netting fence of a flat-head Jeep; cos he’d asked me to bring one hone for him.
Is a photo close enough Ray?
And we did stop at the 'Cosy Dog' Springfield, another 'must do'. Yeah right!
What a load of crap!
The sausage was about 3/4" thick . . . and the batter about the same ... making the whole thing over 2" thick around a sausage not as thick as my thumb.
Rip off.
And I decided I don’t think much of root beer either.
We made it to Staunton and Henry's Rabbit Ranch, aka MacLean Trucking (now defunct,) home of Snortin' Norton trucks . . . got the tee shirt to prove it too.
When we pulled into the place we noted a car sales the other side of the hiway, too late to check out that arvo.

Friday 20th September.

Next morning around 8:00 am we did that . . . 600 classic cars for sale.
Here’s the link:
Country Classic Cars L.L.C. - Antique and Collectable Cars and Trucks - Home
Met with Joe Wiemer at Ted Drewe's Frozen Custard . . . and he's wearing a Beach Hop tee shirt!
Bloody good bloke; quite a character.
He's just so jovial and full of bonhomie.
(You kept me smiling for quite a few miles with your wisecracks!)
Then we headed for Kansas and Roger and Susan Spears . . . bloody fine people, most hospitable.
And the house is bloody gorgeous!
Although I couldn’t live there as it is; the bush is too close for my claustrophobic taste.
I’d have to clear some of the trees . . .

Saturday 21st September

Saturday Roger and I headed to Ottawa, and the Ol' Marais (pronounced 'Mare') River run.
Nearly 2000 cars . . . bloody gorgeous.
The sheer variety: everything from a BMW Isetta to bloody monstrous gassers.
Even a Triumph Spitfire!
Had a bit of a hassle leaving the venue; both of us were getting frustrated with the lack of progress.
But when we did get out . . . 20 minutes on the open road with Roger's '33 at full noise we both had grins from ear to ear!
Bloody gorgeous!
After the show we managed to make contact with Ken Thomas (NTFDAY, a Club Hot Rod member,) at a gas station just out of town. A very likable bloke, and quite a character.
Back to Roger and Susan's and we'll be back to the show to-morrow
(I can't get over the size of the meals. . . huge by our standards!)

All good.

How would the site cope?
It didn't.
'A maximum of 10,000 words.'
So I'll break it down; this is nearly 40,000 words.

Sunday 22nd September.

Back to the show . . . far fewer cars this time around; perhaps 400 -500 . . . all good, 'cos I could spend more time looking at individual cars.
While we were there Rosie and Susan went to Lawrence, where Susan had been at college, (their mascot is a Jayhawk . . . a mythical bird,) and then did the ‘retail therapy’ bit.

Monday 23rd September.

We went visiting, first off was Grandpa's Garage, a Dean Weller in de Soto.
He retired at age 51 . . . he's 88 to-morrow . . . and has built either a Model A or T a year since he retired, and has never sold one. "You don't sell your kids." You do the maths.
Then to one Frank Thompson's, a retired car dealer from Overland Park, with a bent for picking la crème de la crème of the most desirable Chevs and Fords from the early thirties to the early sixties. Bloody gorgeous.
Then on to one Jim Hatcher's, a barber in his seventies with two 32's, one a coupe t'other a sedan, couple of bloody gorgeous T Birds, and Falcons.
Our grandson Liam had asked us to bring him home a ‘special’ phone, so Roger kindly offered to track one down for us, so he rang a mate who knows about these things, who directed him as to the type and model we needed, and also the shop to buy it from!
US $450 . . . back home: NZ$1500.
Very much appreciated!
A great day out.
Thank God Roger drove . . . he knew where to go . . . that traffic would have left me a shaking gibbering wreck.
Thanks Roger.
We owe you and Susan big time for a glorious three days!

Tuesday 24th September.

Tuesday we left Roger and Susan Spears in Gardner Kansas around 8:30 am and took off for Perry Oklahoma, arriving about 1:00 pm.
Many thanks people for a bloody gorgeous three days; your hospitality is something we'll remember for a long long time.
Booked in to the Super 8 motel and got recognised from our stay 3 years back.
"You're from New Zealand; you bought a local bus and took it back to turn into a motorhome right?"
'Yep. That's us."
So then we had to spend half an hour yarning about the thing.
Okay, downtown for a quick feed.
(There's really only one place that serves decent tucker; we found that out last time we were here.)
Walked in, and before we even opened our mouths it was "I know you! You're the Kiwis that bought . . ."
"Yep. That's us."
"Does Marilyn know you're here?"
"No, not yet."
But Marilyn (Waltermire, nee Durkee, one of the kids who’d written their names in the ceiling of the bus,) very quickly did; and turned up at our table before we'd even ordered from the menu, so that meant big hugs all round.
So then the proprietress (Marilee Macias,) and Marilyn sat, and talked, and asked questions, and watched us eat.
In the end we had to excuse ourselves and leave, but not before promising to return to-morrow.
Okay: off to OK City to trade in the car for a people mover; more suitable for four adults plus luggage.
Because of the delays yarning we came out of OK City bang on rush hour.
Oh dear.
And golly gosh.
But we made it!
Bugger the Avis rule of not smoking in their cars . . . I was just about lighting the next one off the butt of the last.

Back to Perry, in to the motel, Subway Sandwich and a relaxing beer or two for tea.
All good.

Wednesday 25th September.

Had an appointment this morning with the 'girls' at Kumback (sic) Cafe at 8:30 am,
We were about ten minutes late, couldn't find a park, and walked in to be pushed to a table with about six old dears around it.
Bloody hell!
The Nazis had nothing like the interrogation we got here!
Then Gloria, the reporter/photographer from the local paper, turned up to interview us and take photos . . . bloody embarrassing!
And once again we weren't allowed to pick up the tab . . . instead we were given two 'Kumback Café' tee shirts.
So not only were we not allowed to pay; we were showered with gifts as well!
All good; bloody gorgeous people all of them.

Then in the arvo we were given a guided tour of the outfit that Dick Smelser works for: Ditch Witch.
Bloody fascinating.
The plant covers 35 acres, all under (essentially) one roof. The tour was supposed to last about half to three-quarters of an hour; but I was so interested I kept on asking questions and eventually we exited nearly two and a half hours later.
I shook our guide's hand, (a fella named Rich,) and said: "Thanks for that; that was bloody interesting!"
He gave me a grin, and said: "Yeah. Surprisingly enough I found it so too! It was the best tour I've taken; and I've taken a few!"

Then out to Dick and Susie's in Billings for tea this evening.
Susie hasn't met us before, so was a bit wary to start with; but She soon had her at ease.
Once again I couldn't help but note the American preoccupation with food; they had cooked enough to feed a family of twelve . . . a dozen LARGE spuds between four people? A large saucepan full of barbequed steaks? Plus another one full of sausages? Plus steamed veges . . .?
Bloody hell!
Heading back to Perry in the dark I came up behind four or five largish vehicles with blue flashing lights on their roofs, travelling about 60 mph in a 75 mph zone.
Aware that the plods don't like anyone near them I held well back; until a semi came thundering past at 75 mph.
"If it's good enough for him it's good enough for me," I thought, so followed him.
They were a convoy of school buses!
Sheesh.

Thursday 26th September.

Jumped in the rental (a 2013 Chrysler Town and Country,) and headed out on East Fir St. for the next town (Morrison,) about twenty miles out.
When we got there it was closed, apart from four or five machinery/car/truck repair places.
These people must break a lot of stuff!
Back to Perry and sussed out the local real estate market.
A 1970s/'80s three bed-roomed 1250 sq. ft. home with one and a half bathrooms, (dunno what that means,) full air conditioning, new roof, brick and weather-board cladding, attached carshed, fenced yard, easycare section, can be yours for US$59.900.
Okay; it's not in the best area of town, but it's still bloody cheap in comparison with our prices.

In the arvo Mrs Marilee from Kumback Café, along with Gloria, (the reporter from the Perry Daily Journal) took us out to 'Larry's Machine Shop', (Larry Jarretts,) an engineering workshop specialising in all sorts of odd-ball heavy engineering, mainly for the oil industry.
(But they also make the machines that make the machines that Ditch Witch makes.)
While we were there they had a six inch dia. chunk of round steel thirty-two ft. long, and they were drilling a three inch hole through it lengthways.
"What's your margin/tolerance for error over that length?" I asked.
"+ 10 thou."
Golly gosh!
They can drill up to a 14" hole over that length on that machine, and on the big one they can drill to 60' but haven't yet had to do so.
He showed me the drill heads for the larger holes, they're hollow in the middle, just the outer edges actually cut, and they're attached to a hollow shaft, so a 3" up to about 9" round chunk of steel shaft is retrieved from the centre of each hole.
Bloody amazing.
It seems they get the jobs that other machine shops put into the ‘Too Hard’ basket.
(I could write a book on what we saw here today! Bloody gorgeous! Eat your heart out Moose!)
This fella (don't get me wrong; he's a bloody fine bloke,) brought home to me the American preoccupation with huntin' and shootin' and killin' things.
He's got animal heads and stuffed animals from all over the world all over the walls and floor of his office.
An elephant, two leopards, a giraffe, (yep; no kidding!), Australian buffalo, African buffalo, two lions, grizzly bear, baboon, moose, hyena, about five different species of African deer, an alligator, and so on and on and on.
He tells me that next year he's coming to NZ to shoot a stag red deer.
Do what you like . . . just bring an open cheque book! We need the money!
After the tour (really enjoyed that!) we were standing around talking, as you do, when Mrs Marilee mentioned his car . . . "Do you still have it? You know . . . the one with the wings that go up and down?"
"Yep; it's down in the shed just below us."
So we traipsed downstairs, he pressed the remote, the door started coming up and: "That's a Ford 40 RV!"
"Do you know them?"
"Hell yeah! I've got the AC Cobra. That's the model after mine!"
So we had to show him the picture book.
(His is a blown 427 from memory, ours is a naturally aspirated 429.)
And for the next half hour us blokes talked cars.
Americans are very generous folk; Larry insisted on giving all of us a fancy ‘light-up’ ball-point pen each.
All extra good.

Back to the Kumback with Mrs Marilee, (just for you Ray; she drives a 2013 Caddycrap,) a glass of lemonade, and she promised to forward a copy of Saturday's paper featuring us.
All good.

Friday 27th September.

We'd said for Dick and Susie Smelser to call at the motel around 8:30 am, we came down to start packing the car about 8:05 and they were already there!
So we packed their stuff too and were on the road to Will Rogers' Airport (Oklahoma City,) by 8:10 am to a) change the rental agreement so that their names appeared also as drivers, and b) leave their car at the car park so they can just get in it and go when they return from LA.

First stop was Clinton, and a Route 66 museum. All very commercialised, (Get 'em in and gut 'em,) but very well done nonetheless.
I did enjoy it.
Some how we missed the Cheyenne Cultural Centre so the next call was Canute, (pronounced 'Shanute',) a ghost town.
Quite sad really; to see how people's lives had come to such a low that they just walked away from some (once upon a time,) very nice homes and quite extensive business premises.
And we think things are tough now . . . yeah right. We don't know how lucky we are.

On to Erick, and the Roger Miller/Sheb Wooley Museum.
Highly recommended.
A fascinating couple of hours . . . I'd rate it higher (although much smaller,) than Gracelands.
And yes; we bought the cds and the key-rings. (Only for the kids of course; but you know that!)

Next stop was Shamrock and the U Drop Inn; featured in the movie 'Cars' as Luigi's Tyre Emporium
It's also the place where Emmett Byer's Mum worked many years back, while his Dad worked at the garage next-door.
I seem to remember Em saying that was where they met.
All good.

Then to McClean and the Devil's Rope (barbed wire,) Museum.
Extremely interesting for someone who's spent their working life involved in fences and fencing . . . although it was interesting to note that the Americans never used the figure 8 knot to tie the stuff, and never used chain-grab strainers to tighten it.
Even their current methods are crude and awkward by our standards.

And on to our roost for the night, a Super 8 in Amarillo, booked in, went for tea, then couldn't find the place!
Did you know there are at least three Super 8s in a four mile radius as you come in to Amarillo?
Neither did we.
And we're running a bit short on petrol.
But we found it . . . eventually . . . and we've seen parts of Amarillo that we'll never see again!
Lost: Lot Of Silly Tourists.
All good.

Saturday 28th September..

Away from Amarillo by about 8:15 am, heading for Palo Duro Canyon State Park, the second largest canyon in the States, the largest being the Grand Canyon.
The floor of it covers an area of about 1.4 million acres, so it's bloody huge.
We were able to drive to the floor, but because of recent rain flooding the crossings (all gabion fords I noted,) were unable to explore as much as we would have liked to.
But it was an amazing place, photos don't do it justice; just don't show the sheer immensity of the place.

And so into New Mexico.
Just across the border, and just before a place called San Jon (pronounced 'Hoon') we stopped for a munchy at a place called Russells', an eatery with a car museum attached.
After lunch we gravitated to the car museum, (As one does . . .) The bloke who was running the museum had spent some time in Ozz and NZ, and passed the crack: "You bloody Kiwis reckon you know all about cars; let's see how good you are! Tell yer mate here the year and make of every car here! I'll allow you a year either way."
And he passed a list of the cars to Dick.
I surprised myself . . . I got two wrong.
I got every make right; but I was two years out on a Mercury Montclair, and five years out on a Triumph Spitfire.

On to Tucumcari and the Blue Swallow Motel, an icon from Route 66.
I'd heard it had been reinstated to something approaching its former glory; and the reports were right . . . it has obviously had a lot of work done to it; but today of all days it was 'Closed today for further restoration work'.
Bugger.
But we got the pics.

Around a few blocks and stopped at the Mesalands Community College Dinosaur Museum.
Very interesting.
Te Papa could take lessons from this place; although it was a museum attached to a college it was not 'dumbed down' as Te Papa is . . . rather it explained things clearly and succinctly using the correct words and terminology.
I'd recommend it.

Kept heading across state, finally stopping at Santa Rosa to roost for the night.
We pulled in to 'Holiday Inn', and I went to check if there were any vacancies; two smokers' rooms with a double bed.
The girl behind the counter was head-down texting furiously.
I stood there for longer than three minutes . . . then walked out.
She didn't even know I'd been there.
So we're now booked in to the Santa Rosa Inn; with two smokers' rooms with a double bed.

Sunday 29th September.

Left Santa Rosa about 8:15, stopping initially at the Santa Rosa Route 66 Auto museum which was just across the road from our motel. Many beautiful cars, most of which were for sale at quite reasonable prices.
The most striking being a coe '46 Chev lwb truck, done the same way as Willie Pelzer's with the engine mid-mounted, very handsome in a silvery-grey colour scheme.

From there we headed for the Albuquerque Atomic Museum.
This too, although some of it was aimed at kids, was absolutely top-notch; reinforcing my opinion of our supposedly 'top-notch' Te Papa being a national disgrace.
For sure; museums are there to educate children, but they (Te Papa,) have taken it to an extreme.
They dealt at depth with the evolvement of nuclear arms during WWII, and it was a surprise to realise that the Japanese were only six months from developing their own nuclear bombs; even had the ships prepared to carry them to within a striking distance of their chosen targets.
Enola Gay was not there, but her sister aircraft was.
A very interesting couple of hours.

Also in Albuquerque, the Unser Garage; a tribute to the Unser family who dominated their sphere of American motor racing for several decades.
Got to have a go on a racing car simulator, and after wiping out spectacularly in the first lap managed to acquit myself quite well later.
Did I enjoy their museum?
Yes!
Would I go again?
No.
Not really something you would want to revisit, even though I enjoyed it.

And on to Laguna and the San Jose Mission, built in 1699 and still being used today.
Quite impressive and awe-inspiring; a magnificent structure.
Although they wouldn't allow any picture-taking, dunno why for . . . thought there might have been some post-cards we could buy . . . but no; not even that.
Pity that.

Finally stopped to roost at a Super 8 in Grants around 5:15 pm.

Dick has been doing the driving since we picked him and Susie up in Oklahoma, and has done well; particularly in the cities, where I would have been white-knuckled.
But I'm enjoying it on the open road too . . . I can just sit and look around . . . and there's a lot to look at!
But tonight he surpassed himself!
Rosie, Susie, and Dick wandered over o Wal-Mart for beers, while I typed this up.
I'd been bemoaning the lack of salt-and-vinegar chips; and Dick managed to find two packets for me!
That man deserves a DB!

Monday 30th September.

Away from the motel by 8:15 or so, heading for the New Mexico Mining Museum plus fossil and Route 66 exhibits.
The area is known for its uranium deposits; so that's what the museum dealt with primarily, and quite well done it was too.
Enjoyed it; quite informative.
As for the 'fossil and Route 66 exhibits', I've seen them done better in gift shop windows.

Okay: the Bandera volcano and ice cave.
The ice cave required an easy walk of fifteen minutes or less, and was bloody interesting.
The water permeates down through the porous scoria to the bottom of s cave about thirty feet deep, where it freezes over the winter, and never gets enough sun over the summer to thaw.
I liked that . . . but the thought of a forty-five minute tramp in that heat to the top of the volcano . . . um, no.
We didn't go there.

And so on to Gallup and the Rex Museum.
Interesting enough, but I wouldn't bother again.
(And the bloke running it was an American Indian with a 'poor-me-I'm-a-hard-done-by-native' chip on his shoulder, and as camp as a row of tents. I felt like shaking him for his attitude . . . you can't let the past be the loudest voice in your head 'cos you'll never hear the future.)

Next stop was the Painted Desert and the Petrified Forest.
Bloody gorgeous! Amazing! An absolute 'must do'! Mother Nature at her best! Superlatives fail me!
I just don't have the words to describe it.
So if you're in the vicinity and opt out . . . then more fool you.
Dick was itching to buy a chunk of the petrified wood, but got put off by the prices. So when he saw a sign outside a shop 'Free Petrified Wood' he brought the car to a screeching halt and raced inside.
He came out with a piece of petrified wood alright... about as big as a finger-nail clipping!

Then on to Holbrook, a picture got took of the Wigwam Motel but I refused to stay there, non-smoking anywhere on the property, so we finished up instead at the Magnuson Hotel.
Another great day.
All good.