I woke up in the mountains and went across the street for breakfast, which was rather bland. Everyone here seems so nice, so corny and so white. So many white people. I overheard the use of “eh” from a trio of bikers at a table behind me. Canadians.
I did some writing and updating and planned my day. I would go to the Petrified Forest then on to Flagstaff to spend the night.
At the beginning of the forest I was greeted with a large tourist shop offering slices of crystal wood, minerals and the requisite stock of regional arts and crafts; fare I would see many more times in the area. The forest itself was weird and beautiful. Like much of the landscape I was entering, it was like being on another planet. Geology is weird. If only Kristie Cornell were here to explain it all to me.
It reminded me of one of the quotes I came across when researching the Apollo program. When they were designing the LEM, they had to figure out what the lunar landscape would be like. “It’s just gotta be like Arizona,” someone supposedly said. Something like that anyway.
Continue reading Road Trip 107: Petrified Forest
I took the 14-year old to the car and he got to work. I went back to the little food place and worked for a while. After an hour I picked up my stuff and went to check on him. It was going well, he said but it was going to take a while longer.
“I’m going for a walk,” I said.
“Ok…….don’t go near……..I’m just kidding.”
Ha, nice one.
I walked down the street, taking pictures of graffiti here and there and getting some gas station coffee. I came across an actual café and went in to sit down and eat a muffin. Just as I was sitting down, the locksmith called. He was almost finished.
I got there and took the key, starting the car with glee. We tried the power lock together and I clapped my hands together like a little girl. I gave him his cash and thanked him profusely. He gave me some water and tea for the road, pulled out of his little car, transformed into a mobile garage.
I found a gas station and a grocery store. I got some oranges and nuts and mapped out a path to St. John’s, on the way to Flagstaff.
Continue reading Road Trip 106: Gila Mountains