Trip Report, Days 1-3
Day 1:
Have arrived in Barstow. Barstow is just as scenic and fascinating as I remember from my visit here when I was 8 which is to say, not at all. Ye Gods. The trip down was uneventful. We took 99- slightly longer than 5 but prettier and I’ve seen 5 a lot. There was about an hour of almost completely stopped traffic at Bakersfield where we shifted to 58. I don’t know precisely how it happened, but the big rig we passed was facing oncoming traffic, which they are generally not supposed to do. It’s frowned upon.
We saw the Tehachapi loop, but there were no trains on it as we passed.
We had dinner at the local pizza palace in which the food was adequate, the service was mediocre but the stained glass was fabulous. Taking a picture of the stained glass train was not logistically feasible, but it was really cool.
So, yeah. Motel 6 in Barstow is not exciting. The cool stuff all starts tomorrow. We’re going to see London Bridge. >BOUNCE<. No hotels for the next few days and if LJ doesn’t come back up from their power outage, I won’t be posting this until Branson.
Day 2:
Contrary to popular belief, London Bridge is not falling down. It is alive and well in Lake Havasu City, Arizona. (Photographic proof to follow.) We spent most of the day cruising along and admiring old Route 66. The Accountant spent a couple minutes “standing on a corner in Winslow, Arizona.” (Photographic evidence to follow.) Decided that the campground was waaaaaaaaay too far off and found an inexpensive but surprisingly nice and clean motel in Holbrook. I recommend Brad’s Desert Inn to travelers in the area. Brad also runs Brad’s Cab and Brad’s 24 Hour Photocopy (fax service and high speed internet available). I do not have photographic evidence, y’all will just have to take my word for it. I could hear the trains from the motel. I love trains.
Day 3:
Things are not going at all according to plan. We left Holbrook and went to the Painted Desert and Petrified Forest. Halfway through the park a nice lady pointed out that we had a flat. We limped along at a very low speed to the end of the park (at least we got a nice leisurely view of the place) and Dad changed the tire in the parking lot of the gift shop. A park ranger directed us back to Holbrook for a tire repair. It was cheap, but we ended up hours behind schedule on what turned out to be an overly ambitious day of driving. We did not make it to Amarillo. We made it to Albuquerque where after a couple false starts we landed in a Motel 6 in a room with only one bed, two burnt out light bulbs, sub-standard cable and a lingering odor of cigarette smoke. I have a sunburn on my chest. The pizza man is overdue. Tomorrow we will get back on track and I will be happier again. Tonight I say, “phooey” to Albuquerque.
Have arrived in Barstow. Barstow is just as scenic and fascinating as I remember from my visit here when I was 8 which is to say, not at all. Ye Gods. The trip down was uneventful. We took 99- slightly longer than 5 but prettier and I’ve seen 5 a lot. There was about an hour of almost completely stopped traffic at Bakersfield where we shifted to 58. I don’t know precisely how it happened, but the big rig we passed was facing oncoming traffic, which they are generally not supposed to do. It’s frowned upon.
We saw the Tehachapi loop, but there were no trains on it as we passed.
We had dinner at the local pizza palace in which the food was adequate, the service was mediocre but the stained glass was fabulous. Taking a picture of the stained glass train was not logistically feasible, but it was really cool.
So, yeah. Motel 6 in Barstow is not exciting. The cool stuff all starts tomorrow. We’re going to see London Bridge. >BOUNCE<. No hotels for the next few days and if LJ doesn’t come back up from their power outage, I won’t be posting this until Branson.
Day 2:
Contrary to popular belief, London Bridge is not falling down. It is alive and well in Lake Havasu City, Arizona. (Photographic proof to follow.) We spent most of the day cruising along and admiring old Route 66. The Accountant spent a couple minutes “standing on a corner in Winslow, Arizona.” (Photographic evidence to follow.) Decided that the campground was waaaaaaaaay too far off and found an inexpensive but surprisingly nice and clean motel in Holbrook. I recommend Brad’s Desert Inn to travelers in the area. Brad also runs Brad’s Cab and Brad’s 24 Hour Photocopy (fax service and high speed internet available). I do not have photographic evidence, y’all will just have to take my word for it. I could hear the trains from the motel. I love trains.
Day 3:
Things are not going at all according to plan. We left Holbrook and went to the Painted Desert and Petrified Forest. Halfway through the park a nice lady pointed out that we had a flat. We limped along at a very low speed to the end of the park (at least we got a nice leisurely view of the place) and Dad changed the tire in the parking lot of the gift shop. A park ranger directed us back to Holbrook for a tire repair. It was cheap, but we ended up hours behind schedule on what turned out to be an overly ambitious day of driving. We did not make it to Amarillo. We made it to Albuquerque where after a couple false starts we landed in a Motel 6 in a room with only one bed, two burnt out light bulbs, sub-standard cable and a lingering odor of cigarette smoke. I have a sunburn on my chest. The pizza man is overdue. Tomorrow we will get back on track and I will be happier again. Tonight I say, “phooey” to Albuquerque.