Richard and Suzanne and Duncan's Big 2013 Road Trip
Stage 4 - Zooming Zonieward
Watersmeet, MI to Phoenix, AZ

Day 25 - Monday, July 8, 2013
Watersmeet, MI to Rosemount, MN
334 miles

To say that the opening hours of our return journey did not go well would be quite an understatement.

Items that previously fit perfectly in the Monte or cartop carrier stubbornly wouldn't. Newly-acquired and well-worn items both put up a fight as Richard grunted and shoved things into the suddenly-shrunken spaces. And the hot & sopping weather combined with the incessant bombardment of nearly every biting and stinging winged creature imaginable resulted in Mr. Moeur using every epithet & curse known to man (and even a few known only to distant galactic civilizations).

Mr. Grumpy doesn't want to leave da UP

But miraculously, with a bit of leverage and an impromptu strategy, the doors & trunk were closed (crunch - oops), the hotel folk notified, and a course was plotted away from the Land of Yoopers toward the Twin Cities and from thence to our home in the far-off Arizona deserts.

But then, just as we're turning south, a momentous question: "Did we get a pasty yet to bring back home?" For those not familiar with Upper Peninsula cuisine, a pasty is a hand-held meat and vegetable pie originally brought by Cornish workmen to the mines for a lunchtime meal. And it wouldn't be right if we didn't try to take on with us. So we checked in at Nordine's Store in Watersmeet near the junction with US 2, but dagnabbit they were just sold out - but we did get some brown-bagged Trenary Toast, chewy meat sticks, and other supplies for the thousands of miles ahead (and a Yooper cribbage board, too).

Mmmm. More Trenary Toast.

US 45 in Wisconsin is a familiar yet pleasant sight, and the miles rolled quickly (well, as quickly as they can in a state that still has 55 mph maximum speeds on 2-lane roads). The grocery in Eagle River did have pasties, along with eclairs and walls of frozen pizzas - must be a big thing around here (sorry, can't take those with us). One thing we did end up taking with us was a big ugly bug, which flew in the side window and steadfastly refused to depart until we clearly explained that "out the window" was a better option than "smooshed into two-dimensional oblivion".

The State In The Way	Segmented stowaway

Although the state adjacent to this one boasts of "10,000 lakes", Wisconsin sure has its share as well, and highway 45 has to curve and swerve around these glacial remnants. And at Pelican Lake, the gas gauge begged for a bit of attention, so we filled up the Monte with BP fuel (yeah, we miss Amoco too) and addressed other fluid management issues.

The green BP in verdant Pelican Lake extracts our green

Ah the visual vignettes of Antigo. US 45 rolls north-south through the city, and along the highway today there were a bevy of amusing views: a large satellite dish painted with a big happy smiley face, a bicycling-encouraging billboard which upon closer inspection had actual genuine bicycles attached to its face, and a roadside business selling old porcelain and neon signs from business both living and defunct. Now that sounds interesting. Drove up by the Red Owl, Dog n Suds, and DX signs outside, and peered into the interior of D B Collectibles' galvanized building to see an impressive collection of old beer, gas station, beer, grocery, beer, pharmacy, and beer signs - any of which can be yours for the right 4-or-more-figure sum. But they are cool, even if we can't afford them right now.

Bikealicious billboard	Yeah, they're real bikes.	The Happy Antennae of Antigo

Signs of an interesting place	Iconic advertising on outdoor display	A warehouse full of collectible metal and neon at DB

Also in Antigo is our old favorite J & P Liquidators, and this visit yielded great deals on a vacuum-insulated mug in Duncan's favorite color, along with more colorful rolls of fat plastic tape, books for light summer reading, sooper-dooper-length bungee cords, and even a few cans of spray paint that might see use later in the trip...? And just south of town is another liquidator - but alas A C was today covered in "Out of Business" placards. But at least we still have J & P.

A selected portion of our J & P loot	For some reason I'm getting a feeling that A C might not be here next time we visit.	And Don't You Ever Forget It.

A ways south of Antigo lurks a giant badger, whose enormous snout and claws now find themselves in use as exterior decor as a "gentlemen's club" (we'll explain it to ya, later, Dunc). But a goofy photo op is a goofy photo op, and the obligatory pix were taken. Then westward at high speed across the bulging waist of Wisconsin along the state 29 expressway, zipping by names of towns that bring back fond and not-so-fond roadtrip memories as Monte's odometer rolled another threesome of zeroes.

The bizarre Badger of Birnamwood	Like badger, like son

Some of highway 29 is the route of the old Yellowstone Trail, one of the original multi-state routes established a century or so ago before the advent of the U.S. Highway System, and in some cases the original trail still exists as a winding side road paralleling the newer freeway. And near Cadott, there's a bright red barn in front of a working dairy farm where the locals sell Yellowstone Cheese (named after the old road, of course, since we're many miles from Wyoming). Inside, you can sample squeaky yummy curds made just minutes before, along with many other delicious fresh-made dairy items from the local farms. Fortified with bags of curd-shaped happiness (plus some really 'cheesy' jewelry), we continued non-stop across the western curve of the state, zooming across the St. Croix and into Minnesota. Some calculation of time and interrogation of vehicle occupants determined that a stop at the welcome center would be wise, and the family played on the swings and enjoyed the cool comfort of the map-packed visitors' info area.

Wiscon-scene on the old Yellowstone Trail	And the cheese is indeed yellow	Mmmm. Squeaky cheese.

Do we have to explore, or can we just drive through?	Swingin' time at the welcome center	Helical hilarity

A few minutes later, we spied the Montana license plate that had eluded us for the previous thousands of miles, and our cross-country collection was complete (plus Guam and several Canadian provinces).

Seen all the plates from the 50 states

From here, it was a semi-urban hop, skip, merge, accelerate, and jump to Suzanne's brother's house in the southern Twin Cities area, and we unloaded and made a beeline for the fresh-cooked dinner and washing facilities. And then a well-deserved rest, made more interesting by a failed A/C unit. But the evening breezes through the wide-open windows were cooling, and the subtle whine of the aircraft passing overhead on approach to MSP (and the purring of a big fuzzy kitty) eventually lulled us to sleep.

Calm fuzzy kittycat greets us in Rosemount

Day 26 - Tuesday, July 9, 2013
Rosemount, MN to Harrisonville, MO
476 miles

Layover? Over. Time to hit the road again - gotta be in Phoenix in 4 days. Now we know some folks can and do do the drive in one 30-hour shot, but we prefer a slightly-different pace (plus, Richard's no fun when he's sleep-deprived). But a early start still helps, and we munched berry cake as we got our personal items out of the home and back into the long red car. Wasted no time in getting to the freeway, and southward we turned, with only a brief stop at a rest area (complete with cute traffic-signal birdhouse) interrupting our drive out of the North Star State and into the rolling farmlands of Iowa.

Hey, the city on the right looks like a great place to visit next year...	Hello, I-35. looks like we're going to be seeing a lot of each other today.	"Light-hearted" concept for a bird nest at a Minnesota rest area

We accept your welcome, people of Iowa.

"Hummmmmm" went the Monte's tires on the concrete pavement on Interstate 35 as the 3.4 liter aluminum engine propelled us and the cartop carrier at slightly-citable speeds through the hot and humid Iowa air. But even the most spacious vehicle can seem cramped after too much time cooped within (and Monte isn't all that spacious in the first place). Plus, even though it was keeping us on schedule, the freeway isn't all that 'interesting'. So Richard consulted the map and the nearby highway signs to determine a good spot for a travel break.

So what's the story with Story City? Named after a 19th century judge, Story City sets beside I-35, offering a seemingly nice place to live and raise a family - especially if you're into Nordic-heritage kinds of stuff. Story City also has a 100-year-old antique wooden carousel gracing its town park, and so it was that we piled out of the car and headed into the pavilion. Story City is rightfully proud of its revolving artifact, and we enjoyed several inexpensive rides on the experienced steeds, with Duncan and a couple local kids particularly fond of a 'mini-spinning' set of seats within the merry-go-round. Fortunately, no lunches were lost in the course of this entertainment.

Entryway to mid-Iowa fun	Quite the century-old carousel in Story City

And it's certified historic	The hundred-year tale of the carousel	New pins added from AZ

Enjoying the eagle-enhanced ride	Richard going hog wild	In for the spin

It's a chicken, I tell you, a giant rideable reciprocating chicken!	Hamming it up	Yikes. Vikes.

But wait - Suzanne's iPhone is again alerting us to a nearby presence. It would seem that someone had hidden a geocache in the park, and so we set about to seek it. After several minutes of merry searching, its cunningly concealed location was revealed, and we added our names to the list of finders coiled within the waterproof casing. Then more fun on the playground equipment, and back in the car stretched and exercised, but in need of blasting cold air from the dashboard vents.

There's a geocache here somewhere	Aha. Right in not-very-plain sight.	Found it!

A slightly smaller merry-go-round	We see Story City. We saw Story City.

More freeway driving - thumpetythumpetythumpety over the concrete joints. Monte's behaving well, and we're making good time. Uh, 'time'. Oh, that's right, Richard has a Very Important Conference Call for work in a few minutes that he can't miss, and a stationary location without vehicle noise would be a plus. And look, there's a Maid-Rite at the upcoming exit in Lamoni, and loose meats sound great for a late lunch / early dinner. So we stopped, Richard took his call in a secluded location while the rest of the gang toured the remarkably large gift and craft shop grafted onto the building.

It's Lamoni	Mmmm. Loose meats.	And giant metal cows outside say "tanks"

Maid-Rite lunch counter	Mad for Maid-Rite

Over 400 miles so far. Re-entered Missouri for the third time, and closed in on Kansas City, while the sun set redly to the west. Did we have dessert yet? Don't think so - hey, there's Culver's. Sounds great - and we have coupons. Then south around the suburbs and under the brand-new signs for Interstate 49 (which will eventually connect all the way down to the Louisiana coast), and into the night we continued on the new freeway.

More MO?	Haa.

Odd clouds billowing on the western horizon	Kansas City skyline in the sunset	Four numbers, one freeway

Starting to get late, and we've done a pile of miles - what's available? Let's look. The only motel in Peculiar was... peculiar, so no rest there. Onward to Harrisonville, where the Caravan Inn had open rooms at reasonable prices. So there we stayed. But... later that evening, as Richard was reloading the cooler with the copious free ice provided by the friendly and thoughtful management, he noted that all the new cubes were fitting a bit too easily into the chest. With a creeping sense of horror, he realized - we'd left the precious Vollwerth's ring bologna and frozen pasty nearly 500 miles away back in Rosemount.

Uh oh.

Day 27 - Wednesday, July 10, 2013
Harrisonville, MO to Hennessey, OK
407 miles

Another bright clear summer morning dawned on western Missouri, and we prepared for another travel day, as Duncan played with the numerous cute and harmless potato bugs also inhabiting the property. Grab a McDonald's breakfast as we merge onto I-49 and away we go!

Friendly little Missouri potato bug explores a shirt

Drove south on 49 (recently known as US 71) for almost two hours until we made it all the way to Nevada (the town, not the state). Saw the colorful buildings and the monument to Senator Stone on the courthouse lawn (on a stone base, fittingly enough), and then into the Cash n' Dash for a fillup of fuel for the Monte and Little Debbies for the passengers. Duncan did suffer a slight mishap, though, the prairie winds caught one of Monte's big doors and smooshed him in between, but some calm words and yummy snack cakes soon made things better.

Welcome to Nevada. Missouri. Both.	Colorful buildings in old-town Nevada	No, this wasn't the service station we stopped at.

Storefronts on the square	Vernon County Courthouse	A stone memorial to a Stone

Near the small town of Milo, a tree. In a silo.

As we approached the southwestern corner of MO, we chose to veer off the freeway near Jasper, and drove past the big popcorn plant as we followed the rolling green backroads. A zig and a zag and several turns had us popping back into Kansas - and wouldn't ya know it would be in Galena. Hey, look, there's Cars On the Route again - and I think Melba's serving lunch inside. Let's mosey on in, shall we?

Corner pocket of Kansas	We're baack!	Melba, Queen of the Grill (and many other things)

Melba Rigg was indeed working the grill on our second visit to this location on the same road trip, and we munched on fresh-cooked burgers, hot dogs, and tater tots as we caught up on doings along old 66. Richard picked out a new colorful 66 shirt that he didn't see the last time through, and Duncan got a reallllybig hug and squeeze from Melba and Donna right before we headed out again.

Mmmm. Melba-grilled burgers, dogs and tater tots.	I think that the shirt rack has too many feet...	Melba and Donna giving the Dunc a big squeeze

While still in Galena, Suz's geocache app on the phone notified us of one lurking in the town cemetery, but a fair amount of respectful searching amid the fences and headstones left us empty and exhausted. So a glance at the map to explore a different route than the well-trod 66/69 alignment, and off we went - right into an unexpected road closure and detour that took us even farther north into Kansas and away from home. But the extra miles did result in pleasant discoveries - along the main street in Oswego, we found the local drug store, with its friendly and authentic hometown feeling and decor (including displays of old-time medical supplies), and a counter in the back selling most excellent slabs of fudge, which were wrapped for the trip home (and didn't survive long much after that - they were good). If all detours were like this one, we'd welcome every big orange barricade.

The center-parked downtown of Oswego	Are you sure we don't need more pituitary lobe and yellow ocher?	Freshly-served fudge from the pharmacy counter

Truth in shirt-vertising

Finally OK with getting into Oklahoma. Now whata? Nowata, which we'd last visited on the 1999 trip before Duncan was born. Stopped at the town park north of US 60 for some play time, and then south on US 169 through the tongue-twisting towns of Talala and Oologah, where the local temperature signs proclaimed the presence of near-100-degree heat. In Collinsville, we chose to veer west on winding state highway 20 and avoid the congestion of an afternoon commute through Tulsa, and the highway took us by Skiatook, Hominy, and the rolling terrain of this part of the state.

OK, we're back.	Rolling Okla-prairie	Racing the Union Pacific

Call him many things, but "slow" isn't usually one of them	Classic rusty tow truck in Nowata

Hot tongue-twisting times in Oologah and Talala	Scooting through Skiatook

It was about this time that Duncan, who it seems had spent the previous 5,000 miles of travel with his head buried in his iPad and completely oblivious to the passing countryside, suddenly exclaimed from the back seat: "I see cows! Lots of cows!" We initially thought he'd stumbled into a new Minecraft mod, but indeed he'd actually discovered all those genuine bovines along the roadside, munching in the shade and bathing in the ponds. But just think of all the moos you've missed behind us, my boy...

Obligatory cow photo

As many folks know, Richard graduated from the University of Arizona, and the red and blue Wildcats play road games in many sports in locations across the country. So when we find ourselves in a city or town possessing a major-conference university, we make it a point to drive by the campus and see the neighborhoods surrounding the stadia we'd so often seen on television. And the town of Stillwater just happens to host the orange-hued horde of the Oklahoma State Cowboys, whose teams the Wildcats had tangled with several times recently. So up and around the impressive hulk of Boone Pickens Stadium we drove, letting the numerous OSU banners block out the late-day sun. Then west on highway 51 past I-35 (that's quite a freeway ramp for such a small town), and into the orange horizon.

Home of the Cowboys, and a Boone to Stillwater

The good news about OK 51 was that it offered an open, quiet, and unhurried drive, far removed from the busy bustle of the Interstates. The bad news was that the towns are few and far between, and the sun was fixin' to set on us mighty soon. We continued on, hoping that our usual good fortune in finding a room would continue. And as we entered Hennessey, we saw the reflective signs of the Sawmill Inn, and pulled in to see what they had for us. The proprietor stated we were very fortunate, in that he'd been fully booked with drillers and roughnecks for some time now due to the recent oil boom, but tonight he had some rooms available. And once he found out that Richard was knowledgeable about reflective sign sheeting, the two of them got on talking about what the best material might be for even more signs to lure in travelers from the highway. And then when the man discovered Richard was a Cub Scout leader, he tried to interest us in some fine specimens of quality hardwoods perfect for craft projects, but Richard politely explained that the car had no room for any added lumber (if we'd brought Truckasaurus, maybe). So we settled in, grabbed a pizza from down the street, and the parents quietly plotted the final two days of our cross-country vacation while one child bounced off the very white walls.

Crazy boy terrorizes the motel room

Day 28 - Thursday, July 11, 2013
Hennessey, OK to Santa Rosa, NM
454 miles

About a month since we left Phoenix. Two days to go. Still over 1000 miles left. Let's see what happens.

One of our morning motel rituals is to pull out the Gideon Bible that can usually be located in the nightstand drawer (sometimes found mixed in with a few other less-blessed items), open it up, turn to a random page, and see which verse of Scripture will inspire and guide our day. Today, the book opened to Ecclesiastes, which is always good for some sound multi-thousand-year-tested advice. Suzanne was a fan of the "an excellent wife is the crown of her husband" verse, whereas a few lines down the good book stated "and there is nothing new under the sun". OK, perhaps so, but maybe it's new to us. So let's get out there and see it.

Yes, the counsels of the wicked are deceitful. But enough about the current Administration.	Scriptural evidence for ancient tourist traps

Outside, it was gray and rainy, and we left Hennessey splashing through puddles on highway 51. The early miles made for some contemplative driving, with the stereo playing softly in the background.

One of the small pleasures of a roadtrip is walking into a general store in a town thousands of miles from home and being treated instantly like friends. And in the shadow of the grain elevators, the Sooner Co-Op in Okeene did just that, as we scooped up a bag of self-service ice, looked over the shelves full of machine implements and ranch supplies, and fueled up on (relatively) inexpensive gasoline.

Okeene Co-op - a keen place in OK

A spell of drivin' brung us to the town of Thomas, and Sewell Park looked mighty invitin' to a boy who'd been cooped up in a car for too long. Duncan scrambled up and down the equipment, surfed the see-saw, and engineered the tin train (woo woo!!) while his dad tried to keep up with all that energy. Then back in the car to roll south to intercept I-40 / Route 66 for the remainder of the miles to the middle of Arizona, looking at the whooshing blades of the windmills near Weatherford as they spun in the sun.

Play time at Sewell Park in Thomas	Surfing the see-saw	Junior Engineer, Locomotive Division

Oklahoma - where the wind comes sweeping. And sweeping. And SWEEPING.

We exited I-40 at Elk City to look at lunch options. An establishment named the "Route 66 Sweet Spot" initially looked great, but turned out to be more of a breakfast-and-pastry place (maybe earlier in the day). We aborted to our backup option of Sonic, where unfortunately an error in the order, compounded by a finicky child and poor handling by the staff, made what should have been a good meal not as good (Sonic made it up to us later, though). In the interests of time and mileage, we kept on the superslab most of the afternoon, slowing only after re-entering Texas and running into a line of afternoon thunderstorms providing moisture to the Panhandle. But that heavy rain combined with buffeting winds had us exiting at Conway and taking a break at the Love's truck stop, whare Duncan seemed to find many objects worth buying if his dang parents wouldn't keep saying "no". ;)

Tex-again	"Are you sure we don't need a giant Angry Bird?"

The rain stopped, and we set about our carefully-crafted Conway plan. A couple days ago, we obtained some spray paint at the liquidators in Antigo. And wouldn't you know that here in Conway is the "Bug Ranch", an arrangement of partially-buried Volkswagens by the highway just itching to be painted, in a sort of similarity to the more-famous Cadillac Ranch a few miles west - only with a Teutonically-themed twist. Out came the cans, off went the lids, and away we sprayed on the freshly-washed Beetle steel - and, given the fact that one of the artistes was only 8 years old (and the other two just acting that way), there was paint on tops, doors, wheel wells, undercarriages, arms, legs, and wristwatches. A whole lot of volatile solvent fun.

Conway - home of the "Slug Bug Ranch"	Bug butts in the air ready for painting	Myriad coats of colorful paint adorn the Volkswagens

Duncan does his bug-coloring part	Made our mark on the Beetle door	One overly-pigmented child

We took our newly-pigmented bodies back to the car and cruised into Amarillo, where we were met by our very good friend Becky at the Big Texan. She showed us their new acquisition - "Big Tex-Rex", a cowboy-booted happy-grinned green reptile perched sky-high in the parking lot. We posed with our scaly new friend (no, not Becky!) and then hugged and said farewell in order to stay on schedule. But the schedule did allow for a lil' detour for some Braum's ice cream, though. :)

Tex-Rex looms over the Moeurs	The brief story of Tex-Rex	Mmmmm. Braum's.

As we approached Adrian, a look at the watch advised us that Dennis and Fran were not going to be around - so we figgered this made a great excuse to visit the Stuckey's out by the superhighway. Once a national chain stretching all along 66 & I-40, this store was the lone survivor from east of Oklahoma all the way to the west coast (the ones near Santa Rosa and Grants closed or changed hands recently). While no Goo-Goo Clusters were to be found, we saw the usual satisfying mix of odd merchandise and road travel essentials, plus large sheets of paper posted in the restrooms for travelers to use to convey their stories. We somehow managed to fit in a plug for the Big Road Trip webpages and Facebook site, and then it was time to goo-go down the highway and under the screaming yellow overhead sign heralding our entry into New Mexico (and getting an hour back as we re-entered the Mountain Time Zone, which we could really use right now).

Only one more state to go

We didn't toodle thru Tucumcari this time, staying on the high-speed bypass and rumbling west. We did need to stop somewhere, and a great place to do just that is at the Route 66 service station in the quiet village of Newkirk. The obligatory big dog laying by the front door greeted us with a yawn and sniff, and Richard fueled up from the classic mechanical pumps while Duncan and his mom thoroughly appreciated the cool dry afternoon air.

Authentic Route 66 gas station in Newkirk	Mechanical pumps dispense the fuel	And what's a rural service station without a dawg by the doorway?

Goofy poses...	...in the cool high-country air

Not long after that, we were driving down old 66 in Santa Rosa, looking in sad amazement at the damage that had been wrought by a freak hailstorm a few days earlier. This unwelcome weather had smashed or damaged nearly all of the neon tubes on the motel and business signs that are relied upon to bring in customers from the open road. We wanted to try a new place to stay on this visit, and so we selected the Tower Motel, which turned out to be quite satisfactory (as long as you're not expecting on-site management). We checked in, tossed a bag of ice at our boy in the back seat (feel good, son?), and then Duncan was immediately changing clothes in anticipation of what he knew was only a few blocks away. Hey, son, didn't you already visit Park Lake on the outbound leg? And now you want to go again? OK, son. :) So Dad took Dunc for a refreshing dunk in the lake until sundown, while Suz enjoyed some blissful child-free solitude, with sole control of the cable TV remote.

The Tower Motel sign in Santa Rosa, bashed and battered by recent hail	The sad sight of broken neon litters the sidewalk	"Here, hold the ice for a minute."

Ready for another swim in Park Lake	Careening off the diving board	"Son, if you were perfect, you'd be walking on the water"

After the swim, we were all far too bushed to go out for chow, so it was time to rummage through the cooler and have 'leftover surprise' for our final overnight stay of the trip. Then out with the lights and burp our way to bed, and anticipate just one more long day of travel adventure.

A very pink bathroom at the Tower Motel	Conked out after a busy four weeks of travel

Day 29 - Friday, July 12, 2013 (Richard's 50th birthday)
Santa Rosa, NM to near Cordes Junction, AZ
540 miles

The horn of the BNSF freight train rumbling through Santa Rosa provided a convenient wake-up alarm to rouse us on what promised to be a very long (but hopefully fun) day.

And this particular 12th of July marked exactly fifty years from when Richard entered this plane of existence - and as he stretched his aging back, neck, and other joints, he wasn't feeling all that young anymore.

Let's go. But where are the keys?

In the room? no. Under the beds? no. Lurking outside? nope. In clothing, bedding, or bags? no. See any key-hiding gremlins 'round here? Other than Duncan, no - and he seems to have an alibi.

Let's have a snack while we ponder our options.

What are those keys doing in the bottom of the food bag...?

With the keys now securely in the ignition (and the motel keys back in the hands of the management), time to start a long day of driving. But wait - it's Richard's birthday, and there's a Denny's just up the street. Time to chow down on a complimentary Grand Slam, plus anything and everything else that looks good on the menu (for a modest upcharge). And an hour and a half later, we emerged bloated and happy, and finally ready to begin the last leg.

Slightly older than Richard

We drove at great speed westward across the high plains of east-central New Mexico, while Suzanne scanned for antelope and Duncan did something iPad-ish. But the bright red roof of the Flying C Ranch had us exiting the highway (OK, maybe the 3,287 billboards in advance of the exit might have affected that decision), and in we walked by the big black sombrero-wearing bear to see what the Bowlin folks had for us. Richard obtained a funny squeezy cactus as a birthday gift / souvenir, while Suz found copper penny earrings that look great in her lobes.

Needs more billboards.	Fleeing into Flying C Ranch

We'll spare you the "un-bear-able" jokes	Two cents for Suz's ears

Back in the car, stomp on the accelerator. "Point me in the direction of Albuquerque" is what the old Partridge Family song said, and that is precisely where we pointed.

Albuquerque. It's not just a 300-year-old hole in the ground.

And Richard, being in command of the mission and holding the coveted "it's my birthday so we'll do what I want" card, was on a mission. And that mission had the Monte pulling under the yellow-painted sign of Surplus City, a Route 66 center containing millions of interesting items for sale (or, as Suz would say on any other of the 364 days, "a bunch of junk" :) Richard prowled the corridors of the establishment, tossing conduit clips, multi-pole switches, spacer bushings, ditty bags, and other very useful items at ridiculously low prices into his basket. And not far behind came Duncan, wearing a bright orange life jacket and a red backpack, thinking most of the stuff was boring, but a few things were really cool. Meanwhile, Suzanne hung out near the registers, where the swamp cooler blew cold and the kittycats were friendly.

Bright sign of odd bargains	You'd be nuts, er, bolts not to shop here

Black fuzzy patrol kitty	Ringing up the loads of loot

And as the cashier's counter was laden with all that oddball loot for ringing up, Richard saw something completely unexpected: a framed photo of one of his high school classmates from back in Phoenix - David Holt.

David Holt. West High Class of '81.

Time for a bit of honesty here from Richard. Mr. Moeur the Elder did not have the best experience in secondary education. There were some good moments, but they were definitely the exceptions. So, it's been relatively easy for him to not keep track of or in touch with the other folks who also survived the Class of '81 at West. But David's picture did bring back some long-dormant memories of freshman cross-country races, where David led the pack (and Richard soon realized that running was Not His Thing). And it turned out that Mr. Holt was the owner of Surplus City, bringing things full circle. But this time, the picture was a memorial to the man. David had succumbed to brain cancer only a few months earlier, and we won't ever get a chance in this life to tell him to his face how much we like the place.

Into the car, do some calculations. It's already 3 PM, and we still have over 400 miles to go. Hoo boy - gonna be a late night. But we intend to have more fun, dangit. After all, it's someone's birthday. Undeterred by a wall of icky weather just west of town, we zoomed nonstop across the mesas and red rock of western New Mexico, with one good break at the park in Grants so Duncan could get some high-quality play on swings and bars he knew very well from previous visits.

Storming out of the Rio Grande Valley	Here. You guys drive for a while.

Busy near-transcontinental highway	Traffic rumbles through the scenic rock formations

Play time in along old 66 in Grants	Dad's not too old for this... yet	I think you're supposed to be on the inside of the tunnel, son.

Thence on to Gallup, where we realized that our overly-tardy schedule would mean that this was our last chance for a decent dinner. And so we stuffed ourselves silly for a second time at the all-you-can-eat-but-that-looks-really-good-too buffet at the Golden Corral at the US 491 junction, and Duncan explored the wonders of the Chocolate Wonderfall (under careful parental supervision, of course).

Big birthday dinner at the Golden Corral in Gallup

It's been four weeks since we'd set foot in our home state, and so a stop at the Painted Cliffs Welcome Center just inside the state line allowed for some post-dinner energy blow-off, and numerous photo opportunities as the reddening sun played over the rock formations and ADOT-maintained freeway signs.

We have returned!!	4th-generation native glad to be back in Arizona

The moon was rising in the night sky as we sped west on I-40 across the Colorado Plateau. A brief stop in Holbrook for fuel and frozen goodies, and then over to Flagstaff, where the odometer displayed exactly 450 miles for the day as we took a break at the Little America Travel Center. The friendly green dinosaur looked inviting in the cool pine-scented night air, and Duncan roused his sleepy body for one more playful pause before we made it home. Then the ramp to southbound I-17, a sharp lookout for elk by the highway, and a cautious drive down the steep grades and sweeping curves.

Blurring into the final-day twilight	Hello, dino!

And, by now, I suppose we're into...

Day 30 - Saturday, July 13, 2013
near Cordes Junction, AZ to Phoenix, AZ
45 miles

The final hours of the 2013 Big Road Trip were pleasantly uneventful, with Monte ably responding to Richard's still-somewhat-awake control. One last head-clearing stop at the Sunset Point Rest Area before we descended into the heat island of Phoenix, then a stop at QT for a final fillup (I'm not saying we were just slightly tired, but we almost drove away with the squeegee still on the windsheld), and at about 1:00 AM on the dashboard clock we steered into our driveway and shut off the engine after 6,735 miles across the United States and one Canadian province. Still a lot of unpacking, unloading, and unwinding, and a Cub Scout Rocket Derby and Lego Fest before the weekend's over, but just happy to have a fun and successful trip - and to share it with you.

See you next year on the way to Minneapolis!

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Latest Historical Revisionism 04 June 2014

Scripting: Richard C. Moeur
rcmoeur@aol.com

Coding for photos created by PhotoPage by John A. Vink.