St. Louis to Chicago (finally)

We made it! Holy Mary, there were moments I didn't think this would happen. I had furious desires to stay in many of the towns I visited, and other desires to push Katie out of the car when she made especially bad puns. Nonetheless, we have miraculously arrived. Let me tell you about our last day on the road.

We stayed at the Millennium Tower in St. Louis, right next to the Arch. It's pretty damn cool. We went there in the morning to ride the tram up to the top, where there's an observation room with windows peering out to St. Louis and the river. The view was great, but the tram itself was the best part. You sit in these little round, white capsules while it lurches you up the inside of the Arch. You get out on top, look around, and then go down the other side. I felt like I was inside an engineering experiment, which, now that I think about it, I was.
So the Gateway Arch is cool and all, but it does not put yummy in my tummy. A more important St. Louis destination is Ted Drewes's Frozen Custard. Frozen custard is a Route 66 tradition, besides being filled with sugar, so there was no way we were missing this. They make this shake called the Concrete which they turn upside down when they give it to you, just to show that it is, indeed, that thick. They were fantastic. Katie recommends the Tart Cherry. After our lunch of frozen desserts, we drove on to Springfield, Illinois. Illinois as a state is obsessed with Abraham Lincoln, so we obviously had to visit his tomb. There's a huge bust of him in front of the tomb, and people rub his nose for luck (it now seems as though he permanently has a very bad cold). They also leave pennies for him, which is a great offering. Give unto Lincoln what is Lincoln's, and to God that which is God's.
The tomb is beautiful and rather sad. Mary Todd and three of their four sons are buried there. Mary Todd was an interesting woman; three of her sons died young (at 4 years, 12 years, and 18 years old), and she held seances to try to reach them. She was a little crazy, but who wouldn't be after the death of three sons? It's all very moving. You can see why they're nuts about Lincoln: he was a great man.

After the sadness and patriotism, we moved on to fried food, another American institution. Cozy Dogs opened in 1946 right here in Springfield after they became popular at USOs during the war. They are very tasty, and the restaurant is filled with weird Cozy Dogs memoribilia. We give it five stars.

After Springfield, we drove almost straight to Chicago (with one stop at an antiques mall where we met some very funny older gentlemen and I bought a lot of lidded Pyrex dishes). I'm going to get the key to my new apartment this morning. Yay!

Tulsa to St. Louis

This was possibly the best day of our trip for seeing weird roadside attractions, especially two that for which we've been holding our breath. First up: the Catoosa Whale. It was built in the 70's, apparently as an anniversary present (I have no idea what that means). There's a dock inside the whale, two slides, and a jump-off out the tail. It was closed down in 1988, but continues to rock the Oklahoma byways.

Next up, a little ways along the road, is Katie's favorite: Ed Galloway's Totem Pole Park. Galloway started it in the 1930's and worked on it for the next forty years, until his death. Huge concrete totem poles are decorated with portraits of famous Native Americans along with what can only be described as "weird shit." I like the owls.This is the tallest totem pole. A restoration society founded to bring back the Totem Park's glory has restored its bright colors. Also, there is what can only be a Martian painted on one side.
Next, Oklahoma threatened to eat us. Look at these clouds and try to tell me they're not ominous:
A freakishly violent thunderstorm ensued, and we got kind of lost in it and the Oklahoma rural roads. We made it, though, all the way to the Columbus, Kansas and their town history museum and geneological library. When we ran in out of the hot rain, a nice Midwestern lady informed us that the Museum was closed on Mondays. HEARTBREAK. I talked to her for a minute while Katie was in the restroom, and she took pity on we poor foreigners. She opened the museum and turned off the alarm system so that we could see this:

THAT'S RIGHT. IT'S THE GIANT BALL OF STRING. I know you've been waiting for it. Let me tell you, it is indeed giant, and that's about all there is to say about it. Doesn't mean it's not COMPLETELY AWESOME.

Amarillo to Tulsa

Day 7

Well, the mile count is up to about 2200 now, and I cannot tell you how sick of driving I am. But we only have two more days: St. Louis, then Chicago. I think I can, I think I can, I think I'll shoot someone, I think I can...

But to lighten up your day, there is nothing like seeing a giant cross on the side of the highway around Groom, Texas. I'd read about this thing in my guidebook, but I had no idea until we were approaching it that this was my image source for one of my weavings: it's the cross in the hand of St. Margaret of Antioch. I found a snapshot of it on the innerwebs, and I used it because it had interesting shading. The place itself, with the ministry attached, is quite evangelist-creepy. There's a shrine for aborted children, for example. But it's none the less fascinating, that people would spend this much time and money building a cross simply meant to attract visitors. I see this all the time with Catholic cathedrals, and I usually take it as a matter of course, but this was different. It's a little too close to home, I think, a little too much of my childhood.
And then I bought a magnet and some Tall Cross Triple Berry Preserves (?!?) at the gift shop. Katie and I were talking about our mixed feelings in supporting a place like this; on the one hand, I think it's valuable as a tangible piece of our religious culture and I want it to be maintained, but on the other, I'm afraid of other uses to which my money could be put. I don't want to evangelize people or support an abortion clinic bombing. It's sticky, and I don't have a real answer.
Stop 2 today was a great art deco café/filling station from the 1930's in Shamrock, Texas. It's so beautiful, and it's been amazingly well-restored. Now, because I failed to namecheck Tori Amos in my previous mention of Winslow, Arizona, I have to tell you that part of my reason for wanting to see this is another Tori Amos song. In fact, (U Drop Inn at the ) Dew Drop Inn was the name of one of her tours. I KNOW you don't care, and yet I am compelled to tell you. I am also compelled to tell you about one of the funniest things I've read in my guidebook so far: in Shamrock, all the men grow their beards for Saint Patrick's Day, and if you don't, there is a price put on your head. I would live in this town for that one and only reason, and it would be totally worth it.

Our last stop for the day was the National Route 66 Museum in Clinton, Oklahoma. It's slick and shiny, with interactive exhibits and fully restored cars (along with a full-scale restored 50's diner). I absolutely loved the 40's Ford roadster...it weighs 3000 pounds and probably gets about 5 miles to the gallon, but it is PRETTY AND I WANT ONE. So anyone who has yet to give me a birthday gift...

Santa Fe to Amarillo

This morning Katie and I wandered around Santa Fe for a while and went to the Loretta Chapel. It has a "Miraculous Stairway"--it winds around twice on its way to the choir loft without any visible means of support. Adding to the "mystery" of good engineering, the carpenter disappeared after six months it took him to make it without payment. The guard rail was added later, because that is a crazy staircase to make nuns climb without anything to hold onto.
But now comes the great part: Cadillac Ranch. I've been waiting for this one. In 1974, one man (along with some help) upended 10 1960's Cadillacs into the ground (at the exact angle of the Egyptian pyramids, by the way). It's a kind of homage to the golden age of Route 66, and it's also a fun and freaky thing to do. Since then, people come by every day and paint whatever they want on them.


But I am no mere spray-paint fly-by-nighter, oh no. I cut a stencil for the brand-new website that I'm starting up with Katie, www.dilettantearmy.com, that we can use to detail the artistic leanings of otherwise reasonable human beings. It's in red on the car (twice because we screwed it up the first time, in true dilettante fashion).
We can't decide on a slogan. Here are some of the options; you can weigh in if you like.

1. Dilettante Army: It won't pay the rent.
2. Dilettante Army: Conquering the world if we feel like it.
3. Dilettante Army: It's what we do...when we're not doing something else.

Durango to Santa Fe

When we left Durango yesterday, we headed south and wound our way through the Jemez mountains in New Mexico. These are the ruins of a 17th-century adobe church build by Spanish missionaries. I'd tell you about it, but Katie informs me that these posts are boring, so I'm letting you slide THIS ONCE. But don't get used to it; I will soon be telling you all about something obscure you don't care about. Don't be lazy.


We got in early to Santa Fe for a true birthday evening. We stayed at the La Fonda Hotel, one of teh first inns at the end of the Santa Fe trail. After we went for sangria and tapas, we went to the New Mexico History Museum, where they were having a kind of fair. This woman showed me how to scrape an elk hide; it is very difficult. That stuff is no joke. (by the way, you tan these things with pig brains. Who knew?).
We had a fabulous dinner with a great champagne. Thanks for everyone's 30th birthday wishes--I had an awesome day full of obscure knowledge and wine. That's like Valhalla for me.

Cortez to Durango (Mesa Verde)

Yesterday morning, Katie and I left Cortez early to get to Mesa Verde. We had "seen" it on our fruitless journey into the park the night before, but let me tell you, it's much more visible in the daytime. At night, we saw a deer and a couple of coyotes, but in the morning we saw this:
The canyons are long, steep, and deep. Everywhere you look there are cliff dwellings built on the sandstone ledges that riddle the canyon walls. There are literally thousands of archeological sites here, but we only climbed down to two of them. After being somewhat frightened by the taxidermied puma in the visitor's center, we headed to Spruce House.

This is the most well-preserved of all the sites. There are about 150 rooms, and the peak estimated population is 70-90 people. The Ancentral Puebloans lived at Mesa Verde from 550-1280 AD, but the cliff dwellings were only constructed starting in the 11th century (before that, they were living in pit houses on the mesa top). Anthropologists theorize that they started moving down the cliffs because of overcrowding and/or for defense. The defense part is tricky, because although they built towers that look like they're made for archers or lookouts, there's actually no evidence of warfare anyware around here. These people were heavily influenced by Chaco culture to the south, and they seemed to be peaceful hunters, farmers and traders.

This is a photo of one of the restored kiva roofs that form the main courtyards (the wooden ladder leads down to it). The kivas are round underground rooms; if the modern descendants of the Ancentral Puebloans (the Hopi and the Zia, among other tribes), they were used for ceremonial purposes. The sipapu ("navel") is an important part of each kiva; it's a small circular indentation on the floor that symbolizes the navel of the earth through which humans, demons, and corn have all come to the earth.

ANYWHOSITS. I can hear you falling asleep from here. Our second visit was to the Cliff Palace, which is the largest and most extensively restored site at Mesa Verde. The cave goes back about sixty feet, and it looks like the seep springs from which they got their water were back there. Cliff Palace seems to be a spiritual center of some kind, because there are 21 kivas* here. It could have been an administrative center as well. There are over 200 rooms, but peak population is estimated at 90-120 people; they couldn't possibly have used all that space themselves, so it's likely that this was used as a gathering place for visiting traders and the other settlements as well as the main residents.

Our ranger guide gave us what speculative information he could, but he said "Really, all we have are rocks and mud, and a little bit of wood. So...tour's over." Cliff Palace was abandoned by 1280, and all of the Ancentral Puebloans moved south. The main reasons for the mass migration seem to be a growing population, the depletion of their resources from living there so long (lack of game, tired soil), and a 25-year drought that started in 1226. It's weird, though, that EVERYONE left, when Mesa Verde could certainly have supported a smaller population, so there were probably cultural reasons for the move as well.
That ends today's unsolicited lecture. I should inform you that I am now an official Junior Ranger. Katie and I filled out activity and quiz booklets, turned them into a ranger, swore an oath, and were handed our badges. The oath was actually quite comprehensive, and we take our new duties very seriously as part of the 10-and-up age bracket of Junior Rangers. Ranger Eli said that he's never seen adults do this, but we can't figure out why not. There are fun games, and you get a prize at the end! If they taught art history like that, I would pay much better attention.

*Note that I did not fall into a kiva, although Katie was placing sizable bets on that probability.

Flagstaff to Cortez

When we left Flagstaff, this was our first stop, the Meteor City Crater. It was the first "proven" meteor crater, and it's the NASA benchmark for all other craters. It's enormous--4000 feet across and 570 feet deep. You can hike around the rim, but needless to say we skipped that.
We did stand on the rim and say "Wow. Big." In 1938, in true Route 66 fashion, someone founded Meteor City right next door and built a tourist trap.


But OUR next stop was Winslow, Arizona, which has done it's own capitalizing on a meager claim to fame with the Eagles song "Takin' it Easy." Now, instead of just standing on any old corner in Winslow, Arizona and waiting for a girl in a flatbed truck, you can stand with the official statue! I want you, dear readers, to pay especial attention to our stylish cowboy hats. We like to think that we need nothing but those and our toothbrushes on this roadtrip, but the reality is somewhat different. We are not, however, carrying our friends' various suggestions of guns, baseball bats, or tasers; this led to our temptation to stop at Knife City.
We had lunch at La Posada, the Harvey House designed by Mary Jane Colter. It's beautiful, and the restaurant is fantastic. There, I resisted buying an ENTIRE SHRINE to the Virgin of Guadalupe. You may now applaud my restraint. I'll wait here.


After Winslow, it was on to Joseph City, where you can see this billboard:It's possibly the most famous billboard on Route 66. You can see why, can't you: it's awesome. You can also sit on the plastic jackrabbit. At that moment, we were battling a large weather system (one of the five literary dramatic conflicts), and were unable to take flattering pictures while wearing our skirts. Just imagine a large jackrabbit with a saddle--I get that unsolicited mental image all the time, myself.

It was then time to leave Route 66 for a time and head north towards Mesa Verde. We stopped at Four Corners, which is just that. It's in the middle of nowhere (but you can buy flatbread and get a pony ride, so it's probably worth it).
We trudged on to Mesa Verde, where I made reservations at the Far View Lodge inside the park. They, however, lost my reservation. I hate them just a little. But we backtracked to Cortez and found a Comfort Inn, and headed out to the park yesterday.