Nothing like starting the day with a windblown walk to see 10 Cadillacs buried nose down in the earth.
God, you gotta love Texas!
The Cadillac Ranch was exactly as I'd imagined and not. I had seen the cars before in photos. I had never seen the surrounding area for what it is -- vast, empty plain! Wow! The wind can treated my little VW like it was not much more than an empty Coke can. Walking to the exhibit meant taking on about a 100 yards feeling like you were in a wind tunnel at NASA!
The cars get painted white regularly but it doesn't take long for the graffiti folks to add color. I was surprised at the lack of profanity as well as the lack of protest -- no anti-war messages, no hate messages, no nothing . . . except a lot of who loves who outside Amarillo, Texas.
The midpoint of Route 66 is in Adrian, Texas. We found some wonderfully tacky souvenirs and had a scrumptious cinnamon roll (whoever came up with the combination of butter and sugar was a sheer genius . . . and the spawn of the devil if I consider the impact on my hips!).
We moved between I40 and old Route 66 (which, when it became a dirt road, was not on my "must do" list) and after a few hours of scenic mesas and valleys and canyons and blue skies with puffy white clouds which we viewed easily because the top was down I was soon "freckle-licious".
Santa Fe was as I remembered it from my visits years ago as a good Baptist making the journey to do training in the conference center at Glorieta, just a few miles away. I smiled that both Stan and I have come a long philosophical, theological, emotional way since then.
Traveling to Gallup for the night, we pulled off for a moment to take the top down again and take in the stars. Stars dancing indeed!!!!
Tomorrow . . . Winslow, AZ where we hope to see a girl in a flatbed Ford and then on to Las Vegas.