I stopped to walk the dogs south along CountyRoad 22, a straightaway gravel road that was flanked by a plowed field. I parked by what looked to be a boarded-up roadside diner, long neglected to its past. Wildflowers bloomed along the edges, birds chirped while perched on the barbed wire, and a family of deer watched us safely from a distance, hoping we would soon leave so that they could resume chomping on the grass. The terrain is flat here, and I told myself "Welcome to Texas!" when the only redeeming beauty was the sky and its whispy cirrus clouds. Despite the flat, mundane terrain,elevation still tops out at just above 4000 feet. I turned around at a slight rise in the road. The road continued straight toward the horizon.
Route 66 still is genuine here, with old gas stations either converted into auto shops or left to remain as living memorials. Void of any people, I continued east on I-40, past the ranching communities of Vega and Wildorado when I neared the western side of Amarillo. Then I recognized Cadillac Ranch, just before I neared exit 60. The long row of parked cars on the frontage road, and the stream of people entering the property caught my attention. I had always wanted a closer look at the ten Cadillacs buried halfway in an open field, facing east, all leaning at the same angle. Amarillo was always a town I had bypassed, stopping only to eat or gas up and continuing on the interstate with more important destinations in mind.
The sun was up high enough now and the day was still young, but as I got off exit 60 to approach Cadillac Ranch, noticed that there were many more tourists already here. The field was muddy from last night's rain, and empty firecracker shells littered the area. A dumpster next to the exit was overflowing with trash. Trash (mostly spray paint cans) was everywhere but visitors seemed oblivious. Their goal was to come and spray paint their message on a Cadillac that didn't have people clustered around it. Whatever art these people put on a Cadillac will be painted over by the next visitor.
I left the dogs in the truck to make this easier for everyone. While dogs are allowed around the cars, I didn't want them frolicking in the mud, or have Sadie intimidate the leashed smaller dogs that obediently followed their owners. I didn't stay long, though. I approached the carcasses, noticed the many layers of dried and dripping spray paint, took photographs, listened to the various languages, and returned to the truck. This is spray paint heaven! A busload of young people had arrived, many of the younger people carrying spray paint cans. At least now I can say I have been to the Ranch, a ranch that was created in 1974 and has since become a quirky roadside attraction for the wayward traveler. I can now mark this off my bucket list.
My next goal was to drive through Amarillo along Route 66. The turn-off to this was easy enough as there is a brown directional sign off I-40, but once driving north on S Western Street, I was getting restless not knowing how far I had to drive to find the iconic route and enjoy some history. But just as I was ready to call it quits, I saw the Route 66 sign and turned right (east) on 6th Street. I had made it! The first place I stopped at was an old Sinclair Gas station now converted into a cafe/b'ar with ample outdoor seating and an old, rusty Chevrolet truck parked outside. Moe Dog's Grill looks like a fun place to eat when open.
It was still too early for most businesses to open. It was 8:30am and I was ready for some coffee. I drove east on 6th street, pass Baxter's coffeeshop, Smokey Joe's cafe, Lil Abner's Pizza and Cocktail Lounge. Most of these storefronts look like post-Route 66 heyday establishments. Only a few besides Moe Dog's look original. The 13 streets that comprise the historic Route 66 in Amarillo are in the San Jacinto neighborhood, a rather run-down looking part of town.
I stopped on the eastern edge of this historic street and parked in front of an island drive-through restaurant when I noticed steam rise from under my hood. And then I noticed my thermostat's needle pointing to HOT. Shit. Knowing that an overheated engine is a very dangerous engine, I stopped all exploring and drove south on Georgia Avenue, then stopped briefly at a Toot and Totum Gas/Convenience store to check under my hood. There was coolant in my reservoir and no sign of a leak. An employee from Toot and Totum (bless those friendly Texans!) ran up to me, asked me what was wrong, and recommended I stop by Chauncy's off the next interstate exit. "Just take the frontage road west on I-40 and it's right there!"
I found Chauncy's right away and walked inside. Luckily I didn't get a kurt "We are fully booked!" excuse. Instead, the friendly receptionist promised that she'll have a mechanic "look at it right away (as soon as a bay opens)!"
And this is how I ended up "stuck in Amarillo." I sat outside with both dogs, on a cement bench against the window. I was allowed inside, but I didn't want the dogs to annoy the customers, or induce allergies. I read another Amazon Vine book, "The Road to Unfreedom: Russia, Europe, America" by Timothy Snyder in the six hours I waited with two tired dogs at this garage. I didn't mind waiting outside while I was in the shade, but by 1:30pm I asked to come inside where it was cooler. The dogs resumed resting in their catatonic state.
The garage was busy all day long. Customers came and went. Being so close to the interstate, I could hear emergency vehicles blaring, cars racing and brakes squealing. By 3:30pm I finally got a diagnosis: the thermosthat had blown, and most likely due to a worn gasket. Jason, the main mechanic, explained that they had used a "Blocktester" on the engine, and the results came up positive. The sealant poured into the engine, however, worked during the test run. "We can't guarantee that you will make it to Chicago and back. Your truck's engine has close to 200,000 miles (precisely 192,700 isn't close to 200,000) and it isn't worth it for a car this old." My bill was $234.
But what a bummer. Stuck in Amarillo. Who vacations in Amarillo? Instead of letting the bad news wear me down, I decided to at least take advantage of my situation and explore the city. It had been ten years since I was last in downtown A. The SixCars brewpub had just opened six weeks prior and was doing good business. There certainly is a lot of space inside, with two floors, both which offer outdoor seating. I had a local porter as well and called Steve about the news. I would heed Steve's advice. Steve asked for Jason's phone number and he called the shop to talk to Jason, then called me back with pretty much the same prognosis: driving long distance on a malfunctioning gasket is risky. I was going to take a day off from driving and just spend tomorrow hanging around Amarillo and checking out the local scene.
The only other business I was interested in was finding the "Acapulco Mexican restaurant," where ten years prior I enjoyed an excellent meal with my army pal MarkB from Lubbock, after we had hiked the six-mile Lighthouse trail in Palo Duro State Park, 30 miles southeast of town. Besides the excellent meal, a stand-out was the water fountain in the middle of the main dining room. It turns out that the Acapulco restaurant is a half-block south from SixCars on the same street. I moved the truck down a block, and after ordering my chicken enchiladas and iced tea, brought the dogs with me to sit on the patio.
I was hungry. It was my first and only meal all day. I relished it. The meal was as good as it was ten years earlier. I was the first person on the patio. When I left an hour later, the tables behind me were full. (No one wanted to go past my sleeping dogs.) I didn't leave the restaurant until 7:30pm.
I made reservations for the Motel6 on Paramount Avenue. The hotel is visible from Chauncy's. With a hotel room now confirmed, I opted for one more walk with the dogs and drove down to Medical Center Park, a walking trail around a small duck pond on the Northwest Texas Healthcare System property. The 1.5-mile loop would be just long enough to fulfil my four-miles-a-day requirement I impose on myself. I started the hike just before sunset, walking counterclockwise around a pond full of waterbirds, squawking frogs and toads, and late-night powerwalkers. It was a quick loop that ended with me getting up close to a rather large Texas toad. Everything is bigger in Texas, and that goes for amphibians.
I made it back to the motel by 10pm and wasted no time getting settled in. Neither did the dogs. I spent the next few hours writing in my blog, answering email, reading Facebook posts and watching 24-hour cable news. The dogs got comfortable right away on the fullsize bed, leaving me just enough room to balance myself on the far right side.
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