Little Colorado River Canyon. things from outer space. Winslow. got my kicks.
Thursday, 9.27.01
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
Once out of the Park, the road crosses vast fields bounded by mountains on the horizon. Not far from the entrance to the park lies the Little Colorado River Canyon, one of the many small offshoots of big papa canyon. The viewing area is surrounded by roadside stands selling authentic Native American jewelry. This is Navajo territory and the road is peppered with roadside stands and signs promoting the stands, each claiming its stand to be the most authentic for the reality-seeking tourist. I would have been excited to pick up authentic handmade Native American jewelry. I'll admit I don't know anything about jewelry; somehow I imagined it would be coarse beads and pounded bits of metals scarred by impressions of the tools that shaped them. But the jewelry looked like what you'd find in a mall - perfectly smooth, shiny, and all looking kind of processed and the same.
To view Little Colorado River Canyon you're herded through a strip of about fifty Native American jewelry booths, before emerging onto a small railed viewing area. It's beautiful and impressive, but after spending yesterday hiking the Grand Canyon I couldn't help but feel a little tired of looking at canyons.
 |
Passed through Flagstaff, stopping to locate a Barnes and Noble and pick up more coffee and the next book in Cormac McCarthy's Border Trilogy. Think I already mentioned this is great western reading. Jumped on Interstate 40, heading East for New Mexico.
Next stop is Barringer Meteor Crater, located about forty miles east of Flagstaff, in the middle of vast empty fields. The approach from the outside isn't so impressive. You can't miss it, but because the exterior is a continuation of the cow pastures that surround it, it appears as a large mound rising out of the center of a field. But it's not just large. It's enormous.
The Barringer family cleverly purchased the land containing the crater several generations ago, and built the visitor center just outside the crater. The visitor center is a large structure, containing a meteorite museum, screening room, small cafeteria, and large gift shop, as well as extensive annexes whose purposes one can only guess at. The most startling thing about this structure, other than the fact that it's perched on the world's second-largest known meteor crater, is that it was designed by Phillip Johnson, considered by many to be the greatest living American architect. The building is fairly unremarkable and I don't recall it's being cited in any modern architecture courses so this may have been an early effort for him. And in case you're wondering the world's first largest meteor crater is located beneath the Gulf of Mexico so it's unlikely you'll be seeing that anytime soon.
After paying ten dollar admission and being granted entrance to the facility I browsed the small number of quasi-informative museum displays, passed on the meteorite film and the opportunity to purchase meteorite-branded towels, spoons, and hot sauce, and stepped out onto the observation platform. The thing's pretty fucking big.
The beauty of the Grand Canyon lies in the elegance in which it was gradually shaped by erosion over a long period of time. The beauty of the meteor crater is that about fifty thousand years ago a rock slammed into a field and in a matter of seconds there was a hole 570 feet deep and almost a mile across, so it could comfortably hold all of Hoboken. It's virtually impossible to grasp the size of this thing, even when you're standing on the rim. That's why the rim is supplied with a telescope so you can see the life-sized astronaut and American flag standing on the floor of the crater. Can't see these in my pictures as they're too far away.
 |
In addition to owning the crater, crater facilities, and nearby RV park, the Barringer family also owns the only gas station in the area, and your ticket stub from the crater gets you 5% off your gas bill and another opportunity to purchase crater-themed memorabilia.
 |
Back on I40 I decided to visit a couple of old Route 66 towns. 1926 saw the completion of this major road connecting Chicago and Los Angeles. In 1938 it was the first cross-country highway to be completely paved. The road was immortalized in Steinback's The Grapes of Wrath, and in the post-war 40's and early 50's America's love of the car and car travel made this the most popular road trip. Towns sprung up around Rte66, offering hungry travellers 50's-style hotels, motels, attractions, and of course the exciting new world of fast food. By the late 50's the volume of cars threatened to overwhelm the road, and construction began on the interstate system. By the early 80's I40 was completed, absorbing large chunks of the original Route 66, and bypassing all the little towns that used to lie along its path.
I stopped first in Winslow, AZ where I first became familiar with the sad run-down Rte66 towns I'd see over and over in the next 24 hours. Unlike Flagstaff, which offered a freshly-restored Route 66 as a minor attraction in a modern city, Winslow offered original crumbling 1950's structures and signs. Several abandoned motels and diners. Soaring arch-supported signs with letters missing. People wandering around with nothing to do, some asking for money or food.
Lonely Planet recommended the Falcon Family Restaurant which is a big diner faring better than most of its neighbors. I stopped there for lunch around 3, so I don't know if it's always completely empty or if it was the time of day. It's a cool holdover from another time, with a friendly waitress, a simple menu, and nostalgic atmosphere. The waitress asked if I was from Minnesota, after glancing out the window and reading the license plate on my car. I explained it was a rental and told her I was from New York, which prompted sympathy and a prolonged interrogation about what that was like. Good coffee and decent chicken burrito, then back on the road.
On I40 again and I drove by the painted desert, which was beautiful but I didn't have time to stop. I also failed to visit the petrified forest. Drove through Route 66 town of Holbrook to see the forest, discovered it lay farther outside town than I'd thought, realized it was getting late, turned around, and headed back east on the interstate.
 |
Crossed into New Mexico and arrived in Gallup just as the sun was setting. Gallup was fortunate enough to become one of the more popular places to visit and experience Route 66, so it's better maintained than its sister towns, and looks somewhat more like a modern American town. This is partly due to the fact that Gallup lies almost midway between Albuquerque and Flagstaff, so it's a logical stopping place for anyone driving between these cities. In addition to having more open businesses than some of the other towns, Gallup also features the by now familiar complement of jewelry and Native American crafts stores, though somewhat pricier than the ones in the more desperate towns.
Gallup also offers El Rancho Hotel, which is almost too good to be true. I found it online - of all the roadside lodgings in town this one stands out as the one people seem to talk about, and the only one with a website. Letters strung across the lintel boast "The charm of yesterday - the convenience of tomorrow". This is where the stars used to stay when shooting films in the surrounding area, and the lobby is wallpapered with autographed headshots and framed yellowing newspaper and magazine articles. It's perfect. I stayed in the Katherine Hepburn room. The rooms aren't much to look at, they're exactly what you need and nothing more. But at these prices who's complaining?
Around 8 I retraced Route 66 to Ranch Kitchen, a popular dining experience with a really cool sign. The host asks how many in your party, smoking or non, and what state you're from. On the way to your table he selects the appropriate state flag from a shelf and seats you and your state flag at a table in one of the large dining rooms. The food was pretty good, definitely not memorable, but given the other options in town I'm pretty sure this was the best Gallup had to offer.
I noticed when checking in to El Rancho that the hotel had a small bar at the end of the hall past the gift shop and dining room. Stopped into the nearly-empty bar for a two dollar Bud and a smoke, and watched the locals chat excitedly about something I couldn't follow before heading upstairs to the Katherine Hepburn room, where I wondered briefly what Ms. Hepburn thought of Gallup. I'd had enough for the day. Thank you, New Mexico, and good night.
back to Day Six, Grand Canyon, AZ:
down. up.
