Vacation - Wednesday "What happened yesterday"

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The trip yesterday was fun, but it was a long drive as well. I was just reading over the entry I made somewhere between late-thirty and quarter-to-early and I was amazed just how eloquent I can be when it is late enough in the evening. However, don’t expect this one to be chalked full of large vocabulary and creative wordings.

The first few hours went well, there was a lot of joking around and time went quickly. I was amazed to see the vast expanses of beautiful skies in Arizona and couldn’t help but marvel at the sublime beauty before me.

Yes, I did take some photos.

We arrived at the town of Snowflake around 12:30 yesterday afternoon, and proceeded to La Cocina de Eva (which translates to ‘The Kitchen of Eva’) for lunch. It was a delicious meal and, well worth the wait; however, since we were all starving by this time, we could probably have been subjected to mouse droppings and enjoyed them thoroughly.

I had this fantastic chicken enchilada which was perfect. The beans were warm and cheesy, and the rice was moist and had just the right amount of zip to them. Overall, it was a fine dining experience and I was glad that Michelle had chosen this as our lunching destination.

After a quick visit to Michelle’s doctor, we proceeded to drive around the town and found gas, amazingly, at a mere $3.96 per gallon (odd that I would say ‘mere’ when I can remember gas being priced at about a dollar per gallon). We filled up and drove around town, the girls in search of thrift stores with vintage clothes, and myself longing for that photograph which was just waiting for me to take it.

Unfortunately I was the only one in luck that day. Vintage clothing stores were few and even farther between, and the girls were finally appeased by several stops into these horrible tourist traps. They were awful! I couldn’t help but snap some shots of the interior of said shops where everything was overpriced, trashy, and it smelled reminiscently of old people.

I was plunged back into memories of times when I’d loved to go into these places and had to emerge with something I purchased…often something as fantastic as a shot glass which proclaimed, “Seattle, Washington…I’m only a small drinker.” And beaded Indian pouch necklaces which would undoubtedly break once any type of pressure was put on it.

We went into ‘Geronimo” which claimed fame from the fact that they had—in their possession—he largest piece of petrified wood.

Hold me back.

We went in and immediately found ourselves surrounded by shelves burgeoning with knick-knack-patty-crap. As my good friend, Melanie, would say, “It looked like the knick-knack fairy had thrown up all over the shelves.”

I couldn’t wait to leave, and upon arriving outside, pictures were taken at the tepees and I even assisted a family in their shootage of photos. Of course, I took a quick photo of them with my camera as I was walking away just to post here…ah, we Americans and our fixations with the tacky.

We went to “Here it Is.” I call it that because I don’t know the name of the store, only the name on the billboard drawing one’s eyes to said shop. The interior of this store was slightly less crowded with junk, but it was of the same caliber…only cheaper.

I opted to purchase nothing (shows how far I’ve come since my prepubescent days) and we made for the freeway and the last six hours of our journey back to Hurricane. That’s when it the sound started…ka klink, ka klink, ka klink…

The faster we drove, the quicker the clinks. I pulled over and examined the back tire. Well, to what to my wondering eyes should appear?

A fork.

I was bewildered…how in the name of all that is holy did we manage to get one of those imbedded in the tire? I pulled off on a section of roadway where we could change to the spare and, before I could take the photo, the handle of the fork had fallen off.

Well, amidst jokes of “We decided to take the fork in the road” and other such mundane and witless humor, we changed the tire and then headed back to the freeway and our still awaiting journey home.

I won’t go into sordid detail of the conversations, sights we saw, and various whatnot, but suffice it to say that after several dozen photos, super gulps of Dr. Pepper, and hours of driving we all felt the urgent need for…

Well, you know.

Unfortunately, restrooms are scarce in the great outdoors, but after a time we were finally able to reach Fredonia. Unfortunately, all gas stations, as well as their restrooms—had closed up for the night. I thought the girls were going to explode, and laughter was kept to a minimum so that nobody would have an unfortunate accident.

We did find a port-o-bathroom next to a laundromat. While Michelle raced into the small, blue cubicle, I walked the laundromat door and pulled the handle. It was open. AND it had a bathroom.

Needs were met, and we were soon again on the road. It came to be about 12:30 that we rolled into the driveway, our journey finally complete four tanks of gas and seventeen hours since our initial departure.

It felt good to be home.

So, what course will now my journey take me? This, I know not. I may stay another day or two, just because I might be able to…or I might head out. Know that if I do, I will be out in the desert, and despite the allusions I made in an earlier post about wi-fi cacti, they sadly do not exist and postings will be postphoned.

Have a good Wednesday, and, if you made it this far, thanks for taking the time to finish reading my mini-novel.