DAY TWO: Saturday, 16
August 2008
Day’s Starting Pedometer Mileage: 808.
The plan was to wake up at 6 am to
get a head-start on the day. I did wake
up at 6 am, but only because the body was ready to get up. The alarm clock provided by the room didn’t
go off. A quick shower, and then I was
on the road. I head west on I-40 through
pine forests and open plains, looking at a menacing dark cloud ahead. This dark cloud was only over the highway, as
it was pretty clear blue on either side.
Reaching the exit for Williams in about 30 minutes, I shot north towards
Valle. And it’s pronounced like
“valley,” not “vale.” I had planned on
perhaps eating breakfast in Williams and then heading towards Valle, but once I
got to the exit I realized Williams was in the opposite direction of where I
wanted to go (I thought it would be right at the exit). Again there was a lot of excellent scenery,
but not a lot of good places to pull off the road to take pictures. I wanted to take pictures of the area because
of my failing memory that comes with age and genetics (thanks, Mom!), I’ll want
to remember this trip as long as I can.
The first target for the day was
the Planes of Fame Air Museum. Since it
didn’t open until 9 am, and it was about 7 am when I turned off I-40 towards
Valle, I was hungry for breakfast. As I
said, I originally thought about getting something to eat in Williams, then go
up to Valle, but since Williams was south, I went the another 30 minutes up the
road to see what Valle had to offer.
On the way to Valle, it became that
green scrub again, as I lowered in elevation down to about 6,000 feet. Off the main road (Route 64) it was pretty
barren. Most of the houses were just
trailers off of red dirt roads. I’d seen
two gas stations since leaving Flagstaff ,
so make sure your car is filled up before you go anywhere. Prices for gas were about 10-20 cents more
expensive than Austin ,
so it wasn’t the “higher gas price” as I had expected.
Arriving in Valle, I located the
Planes of Fame easily, because it was on a three-corner intersection with very
little else. North would take you
towards Grand Canyon, and the east road (Route 180) would eventually take you
back to Flagstaff
(as I figured out later). Well, food
choices looked thin. There was a hotel
right at the intersection, but no hint there was any available food there. Just past the intersection I saw something
that was just begging for me to try.
There was an RV park, complete with gift-shop and café that was done in
the theme of the Flintstones. It had
markers that looked like bones, the buildings looked right out of downtown
Bedrock, and a friggin’ giant Fred Flintstone was standing there to welcome you
into the park.
Sure, it was a diner. So what.
Guarantee you won’t find it at home, and perhaps no where else in the U.S. That’s the fun of eating the local fare. It’s not always the food, it’s the
atmosphere. I just had runny over-easy
eggs, toast, home fries, OJ that had an odd taste, and chocolate milk. That took me up to 8.15, so I figured I would
loiter at the hanger nearby the museum.
Wow, what a find!
Inside the hanger was a bunch of
old cars (I liked the 1908 Buick), and what I found the funniest, a 1972 Honda
motorcycle all decked out for Operation: Desert Storm (desert camouflage paint,
too). There were some cool airplane
pictures also, along with movie posters for related movies (like “Fly Boys,”
and “Memphis Belle”). I thought the
hanger was just going to be a functional area with just the control tower for
the Valle Airport
and very little else (similar to the Glens
Falls Airport Valle Airport
for helicopter rides and such over the Grand Canyon . Walking into the actual Museum, the first
thing lady beyond the counter (Shirley) noticed was my Hill
Aerospace Museum
(Utah ) shirt
I was wearing. I had not chosen that
shirt to wear today at random. Planes of
Fame was about a third the size of Hill Aerospace, and about twice as big as
the Highland Lakes
Museum (in Marble Falls , TX
Shirley enjoyed me telling about to
the above two places I had visited, as well as the Arizona Wing B-17 that Keri
got to ride in not long before I came to Austin. Shirley also didn’t know about the AIRBOY
comic about the CAF (like the lady at Highland Lakes
For those who don’t know, let me
quickly bring you up to speed. AIRBOY
was originally published in the 1940s as one of many war-time comics, and it
fizzled out a few years after the war was over.
The characters were acquired by another publisher in the mid-1980s. One issue (circa 1987) had the title
character of the revised series (the son of the original title character) went
to an air-show featuring the CAF (Confederate Air Force). The CAF restores WW2-era planes and flies
them around as living historical pieces.
The CAF has since changed their name to Commemorative Air Force when
they got more well-known (as the new name is a little bit more PC).
At the Museum I got to drool on my Messerschmitt
Me-209 (an excellent German fighter).
And there were a number of quirky airplanes that I got to take pictures
of, including one that was a prototype built by General Motors prior to
WW2. Even on vacation, I can’t escape
work, it seems. J One of my other favorites was the P-38
Lightning (U.S.
fighter), but the Museum didn’t have theirs’ at the moment (as it was out at an
air-show). I also got to go to the
“boneyard” where there were planes awaiting restoration, including a Russian
MiG. I then had a guided tour of the
Constellation that had been General MacArthur’s during the time he was a
five-star general. Once I had seen
everything I wanted to, it was time to jet.
Sorry, I couldn’t resist that one.
Even though I was about half-way to
the Grand Canyon at Valle, I decided to stick with my original plan and drive
back east beyond Flagstaff . I did stop in Flagstaff near the hotel on the
way back through to feed the car and take a shot of the 12,000 foot peak that’s
the tallest in Arizona, then it was on the road again. Once again, as you get away from the cities,
there is nothing but wide open space, nice mountains, no shitters, and no place
to pull off to take pictures of the awesome scenery.
Half-an-hour after feeding the car,
I had arrived at a place that was a real hole.
Meteor Crater Natural Landmark.
Notice it’s not a “national monument” as it’s privately-owned. I had my pyramid with me today, but I really
brought it out for this because of the energy I was feeling from them
place. There were some cat-walks with
overlooks I took pictures from, and also took the chance to sit and meditate on
the views. There’s an illusion of size
that the Crater doesn’t seem as big as it is, but it’s a mile across and some
550 feet deep.
Part of the experience was a guided
tour along a portion of the rim by our Navajo guide, Mike. We would walk to a point, Mike would give us
some info, and then to another point for more info. It was about 1.15 pm when we started, and
while it was hot and sunny (I don’t recall too many clouds), it wasn’t burning
hot. There was a breeze, but it wasn’t a
hot breeze. I have no idea what the
actual temperature was, if it was 80 or over 100. While Mike said the Crater has no spiritual
connection for his people, he did think that it was cool that I was using the
pyramid as a focus to draw in the energy from the area. I even let Mike handle the pyramid, figuring
the touch of a Native will bring good things.
I said to Mike it was surprising
that none of the Native people had a story to explain this, as there are
usually stories that explain other natural events. And keep in mind, the land is pretty flat and
featureless, and there’s this gaping hole in the middle of it, and nothing like
it around it, so there’s no way this was a natural thing. Mike said that the Hopi would refer to this
as “the place where the stars far,” and that’s really all they say about
it. Considering this was made 50,000
years ago, there weren’t many people around to see the meteor hit, and those
that did were probably vaporized by the explosion.
I asked Mike if it was possible to
walk all the way around the Crater. He
said that the edges were too crumbly for that.
I suggested just around the whole Crater, but a safe distance away from
the edges, just to be able to say you walked around it. Mike thought it would be neat, but figured
most people wouldn’t be interested in doing it.
Obviously, I’m not most people.
Once I had seen all there was to
see, and found some amethyst that needed to come home with me from the gift
shop, I headed back towards the Flagstaff
area. Meteor Crater closes at 7 pm, but
since it was further out, I wanted to hit that before I hit Sunset Volcano,
which closes at 5 pm. The dark clouds of
the afternoon monsoon season were visible over Flagstaff , but I figured if I hustled I could
get there before it closed. If the
weather would permit, then I would also hit Wupatki National Monument
The rain was a sprinkle by the time
I got to the turn off the highway to go towards Sunset Volcano, and it was a
light drizzle by the time I pulled into the visitor’s center. It was about 3.45 pm, so I knew I didn’t have
a lot of time, and I decided not to visit Wupatki today because of
weather. Hell, five bucks to get into
the whole park, it would be easy to come back and hit it another day. Only going a mile up the road I reached the
Lava Flow Trail. The rain was a medium
drizzle by the time I reached the trail, but it had been joined by thunder and
lightning. Hell, I don’t recognize Thor
as my patron (and perhaps protector) for nothing. I trekked on the nice paved path that went a
short distance to a patio-like structure overlooking the lava flow.
What I saw was a landscape of
complete devastation. Keeping mind this
volcano only blew some 1,000 years ago (guess is 1040 to 1180 being a range, so
let’s just say 1066 for fun). 1,000
years is a blink in geologic time, but far shorter a time as far as plants
go. The trees were very sparse, as the
soil still hasn’t completely recovered.
There was no order to the broken landscape, no nice lines of sediment
exposed, nothing neat about the area. It
was a vast area of piles of rubble simply scattered about. This was not “Beautiful Desolation,” but pure
volcanic badlands.
Off near the “patio” was what was
called the Long Trail, a hiking trail that took you around the area. It wasn’t paved, but there were small trail
markers and a fence part way so you would stay on the trail. The soil was fine like dirt, but a black-deep
brown color. This was not life-giving
soil, but volcanic dirt that was devoid of any thing that would allow plant
growth. I made my way quickly around the
trail, enjoying the scenery, but going at a good pace. The sky was getting ready to rip open, and
Thor being a patron or not, I’m not stupid enough to be caught out in it.
I did take a few shots with the
pyramid, as well as the Burst Crater, and the Entrance to the lava flow
tube. I had been told that people use to
be able to go into the lava tube as it snaked around another mile or so, but
it’s been since closed for safety reasons.
I took a picture of the gate that blocked the entrance. It would’ve been really cool to go in the
lava tube, but certainly not in this weather.
Besides, I didn’t have any light source with me.
By the time I had made it back to
the car, it was down pouring now. I
timed that good. As it wasn’t quite 5 pm
yet, I went back to the Ranger Station—Visitor’s Center, and chatted for a
while with one of the gentlemen there about various volcanic topics. Once it was time for the park to close, I
drove back to Flagstaff
proper in pouring rain.
I took a different way back that
brought me through the Historic Route 66 area.
The various drive-ins and motels were really a sign of that time. Each one would be an experience in eating,
and learning some of the history. It was
also in what would pass for “the hood” in Flagstaff
(the “east side”). As the rain was
getting heavier, and some of the streets were starting to flood, I decided it
would be better to be back in the area of the city I knew better. Once I got back to my hotel and took a moment
to unwind, it was time for food. Keep in
mind I hadn’t eaten since 7.30ish when I had my breakfast with the Flintstones.
Going on a recommendation I had
gotten at the Flagstaff Visitor’s Center, I went to a Mexican place called Casa
Bonita. Casa Bonita wasn’t that far from
my hotel, but since it was raining hard I drove. I took a page out of Rachel Ray’s book, and
just stuck to water. The first thing I
noted on the menu was no queso! There
was instead “cheese dip.” Not the same,
but I got it anyway. Not the same, but I
ate it anyway. Of course, I ordered my
requisite cheese enchiladas (no beans, extra rice). While I am a creature of habit, I order the
same dish at a new restaurant so I can gauge how good it is. The enchiladas were covered in a
light-brownish-color sauce that I couldn’t put my finger on as far as the
taste, but it was still good.
I sat at the table for a little bit
writing this journal, until I noticed there were a lot of people standing
around in the waiting area. I figured
they might want my table, so I paid my bill, and returned to the hotel. I had a plan was for tomorrow, and dropped
off to bed by 9.30 pm. As you will see,
there was a method to my madness.
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