Road Trip Report

The Spensers are home, home from the sea (the Tallahas-Sea, ha!). Here is the tale of the trip, after the break. (Caution: long, boring.)

The day before we left our temporary posting in Florida, we had a clean-out party, where we invited people over for pizza and made them take stuff with them when they left. You know, the spice cabinet, the condiments from the refrigerator door, the half bottles of wine, the toilet paper. When everyone cleared out, we were left with our 2 rats, our pet tarantula, an air mattress for our last night, 1.2 pizzas, and all our earthly belongings.

Next morning was Tues, Aug 28. We loaded the car to the rafters - the rat cages took up a lot more space then we had planned. As a result, Ms. Spenser had to ride with her seat pulled all the way up, and 2 pizza boxes in her lap. We dropped off the key and hit the road around 10 AM, well ahead of Hurricane Isaac.

Due to the storm, we had picked a route that was pretty much the reverse of our trip to Florida from California: North to Memphis, then Route 40 all the way to CA, with a jog up to Santa Fe.

We headed north through Montgomery, Birmingham and Memphis. We had a few sprinkles, but no real weather related issues. The storm was well south and somewhat west of us. Our worst problem was the route, a tricky one with many, many turns to get around the cities. We did not stop for lunch, we ate the pizza. This was partly to save time, partly because we couldn't leave the rats in the car to broil, and couldn't figure out how to get them into a restaurant.

After about 10 hours, we arrived at Forrest City AR, between Memphis and Little Rock. I had picked this town for no reason at all; it was on Route 40, our way west, and it was just the right distance for the first day. We found from the hotel literature that the town was named after Gen. Nathan Bedford Forrest, Confederate war criminal and early KKK member.

That dampened my desire to go exploring the town. Fortunately (and strangely), the Days Inn next to our hotel had a Mexican restaurant with surprisingly good reviews, Don Jose's. It was just what we wanted - we felt at home as soon as we heard Spanish. The margarita's were about what we had expected (bad), but they had a nice special - beef, chicken and shrimp cooked in chili sauce in a half pineapple. That was my lunch the second day.

The second day we drove across Arkansas and Oklahoma. AR is quite pretty, with a lot of trees and water. Oklahoma is a bit more flat and boring. We wound up in Clinton OK, at a Holiday Inn Express next to a waterslide park under glass (and under construction). Once we had snuck the rats into our rooms (we did this every day), we drove into Clinton looking for dinner. We tried a steak house at the Days Inn - it had worked last time - but it was too depressing. The Mexican place up the street seemed ok. I had a strip steak soaked in what seemed to be soy sauce, but was probably gravy base. Clinton in general was not too much fun, although they had a Route 66 public park downtown with a neon sign. Route 40 follows the old Routes 66, and we saw a lot of towns that have pretty much nothing but Route 66 nostalgia going for them.

After this, things started to get prettier. About an hour west of Amarillo (past Cadillac Ranch), around the New Mexico border, the scenery gets scenic. It wasn't quite as awesome as I remembered it from the trip out (better views looking east?), but still pleasant to look at.

We were going to stop for lunch in Tucumcari - looking for Indian fry bread. Old Route 66 left a lot of quaint hotels with colorful neon, but it looked pretty run down. We continued on our way.

At the turnoff to Santa Fe, where Route 40 crosses the Continental Divide, We stopped for gas, Dairy Queen and trinkets. A gang of probationary Banditos were stopping at the same time. We saw them later on in Santa Fe, shopping for Indian jewelry. Remind me, Banditos MC: motorcycle enthusiasts or criminal enterprise?

In Santa Fe, we stayed at the Inn and Spa at Loretto, a lovely place. However, they had valet parking. And we had 2 rats, two very large rat cages, and a tarantula to sneak inside. So, we shifted the rats to purse-sized cariers, wrapped up the cages, drove up and brazenly started carrying stuff to our room under the very eyes of the valets, the bellstaff and the clerks. They were completely fooled.

Once everyone was safely stowed, they parked our car - right outside our room. We had a ground floor room right on the parking lot, and they parked us there to make it easier for us.

Also, we late saw someone come in with a dog. I guess they allow pets, if we had just asked. Oh well.

We did a little shopping at our favorite place, the Indian art gallery in La Fonda, where Ms. Spenser discovered Zuni fetishes. This trip, she found a beautiful old sun-face ring from the estate of the manager's father in law, who had lived all his life among the Zuni. His family found little boxes full of jewelry and carvings after he died, and some of it is on sale.

Then, dinner - and especially cocktails - at the Coyote Cafe. I know it is washed up and passe, but let me tell you about the cocktails:

• Devil's Advocate: Mezcal and smoke infused watermelon juice in a martini glass, with 2 cute devil's horns carved out of watermelon on the rim
• Smoking Dragon: Yuzu, burnt rosemary, and 151-proof absinthe, whipped with liquid nitrogen into a sorbet, served with a burning rosemary twig

That was the night the Republican convention nominated Romney for president. Back at the Inn, we were having a quiet drink in the lounge when some asshole Republicans (probably Texans) got the waiter to turn up the TV. We were leaving in disgust when an off-shift waitress stopped us: "You can't take it either, huh? Don't worry, we're not like this - 90% of Santa Fe and all the owners of the Inn and Spa are totally cool Democrats." 

She proceeded to tell us her opinion of Republicans as a rape survivor and Planned Parenthood supporter. She asked us to imagine how the gay waiter felt when he had to turn up the TV, or the bartender, a man of Mexican origin. Hearing her perspective (even though she was pretty drunk) made us feel a lot better.

Since our next stop was Flagstaff, only 5-1/2 hours away, we had a nice breakfast and did some more shopping at the Palace of the Governor, where the Indian artists sell their jewelry. Picked up a few things, too. 

The road from Santa Fe to Flagstaff goes through some wonderful country. At Laguna Pueblo, we turned off to find the Indian Art Center, which coincidentally served fry bread. I had a fry bread taco, Ms. Spenser bought some art. It was cool enough to leave the rats in the car with the doors open. Lovely territory, which we got to see a little of when we got lost down a canyon.

The Little America in Flagstaff is a funny place. It's a kind of lodge with Louis XIV style furnishings, and a 2-mile nature trail in back. The trail wanders through some Ponderosa pines, and was a nice way to decompress. We had dinner and drinks in the hotel bar, didn't even bother to go into town.

We had breakfast at Macy's, a nice hippy/student coffeeshop on Beaver Street near the tracks. Again, cool enough to leave the rats in the car. Then the sprint across the AZ/CA desert country - from hilly grazing land to high desert, with almost no gas stations between Flagstaff and Barstow.

We got to our friend's place in Arcadia CA just in time for cocktails and dinner. The man of the house made some excellent BBQ skewers (going on a paleo diet), and there was beer and margaritas. The rats were happy to be given a room that they didn't have to sneak into. Our hostess, who wasn't feeling quite well, went to sleep visiting the rats. Our host made us some amazing boozed up hot cocoa and put us to bed.

The next day we went out to breakfast at the cafe in Santa Anita racetrack. Sadly, the horses were not running, so we didn't get to see them being exercised. Still, a beautiful venue.

Then we loaded up and hit the 5 north. Once past the Grapevine, it's a long boring slog, until the Casa de Fruita pass to the Bay Area. We were home around 5:00. We unloaded the rats and nothing else, and headed to Fiesta del Mar, the best Mexican restaurant in the world for dinner and a few of their fine margaritas. We are home.

It was a nice trip, but too fast, partly because of the rats. Well, Ms. Spenser might be going to FL again next year...