Home again, home again...

Louise here, sitting on Thelma's couch, wondering just where did those two weeks go? Oh yes, on the road. We have decided that deserts are our least favorite landscape and climate. However The Grand Canyon is a marvel to see, and a must stop if you are in that area. Tip: Park in the Village and take the free shuttle bus to the main areas.

We had a delightful dinner with Jordan, who Thelma's known since her college days in Minnesota. That's the nice way of putting it. Thelma was his au pair, but we prefer the term chauffeur-tutor-big-sister. :) He's family.

And then we headed to the Santa Monica Pier. Thelma was fantastic in figuring out the back roads to the old 66, to avoid the LA freeways. We found parking and walked to the end of the pier, feeling rather smug about a having made the entire trip. There were so many a tourists taking photos of the end of the road sign, who would never have the Route 66 experience.





(In order to get the sign in the picture, we had to cut off Thelma's face. She's short.)





(At the end of Santa Monica Pier! That's the OCEAN! We did it!!)

Our last night was in beautiful Santa Barbara, staying with Doc and Mrs. C. Doc was Thelma's professor waaaay back when she was in college (he was one of two profs in the whole department...it was a SMALL school...so they became pretty close). The Cs retired to SB from Minnesota (SMART people!!), and have been dropping hints that Thelma needed to visit ever since. We finally complied; Thelma joked that she still kinda felt like he controlled her grade, so she HAD to obey. :) It was fantastic to catch up and see their new life here. We'll be back to visit; it IS Santa Barbara, you know!


Coming home was bitter sweet. We didn't want the adventure to end, yet we
looked forward to being at home. Re-entry is always the pits, but future summer events await and we are looking forward to visitors from afar.

Thanks for riding in the back seat with us, even if it was crowded back there. Hope you enjoyed the adventure! We will let you know when the next journey takes place.

"I Love You, California...

"You're the greatest state of all
I love you in the winter, summer, spring, and in the fall.
I love your fertile valleys; your dear mountains I adore,
I love your grand old ocean and I love her rugged shore."

Did you know that California has an official State Song? Yeah, me neither. There's the first stanza, and let me tell you, upon arriving in our home state, we saw...none of that.

Holy. Cow. The eastern side of this state is desolate. Depressing. Mile after mile after mile of hot (106-degrees), dry, barren land. Yes, there were majestic, craggy mountains, but after the third hour of hot, dry desert, we were looking for that "grand old ocean and rugged shore."

Truth time, too: we deviated from Route 66 upon crossing the border in Needles, CA. We looked at the map, at the desert, at the temperature, and took a good hard look at the fact that we were driving our THIRD rental car, and decided that it would be prudent to stick to the interstate. Where there are Highway Patrol officers and other people around in case "Ethel" started to have problems (which she did not, thank you very much). We did join the Mother Road after Barstow, and after the danger of breaking down in the middle of nowhere had passed.

Lodging in the LA area has been a challenge, as there's some kind of convention going on. As Thelma was battling traffic (let's face it, after crossing the country via back roads with maaaaybe one other car, to suddenly be thrown into LA traffic is a bit of a shock), Louise was making call after call after call to find us a place to stay. It's kinda fitting that the only place we could find is an old Motor Court in Glendale. It's our last night officially on the journey of Route 66, as tomorrow, we will end at Santa Monica Pier; so staying in one last, iconic motel just works.


(It was waaaaay too bright and waaaaay too early in the morning for it to be so bright.)

Dinosaurs and Wigwams and the Grand Canyon!

This morning, upon departing from Holbrook, Arizona (they claim they're the town that the creators of "Cars" used as inspiration), we ran into quite a few pieces of iconic Route 66:





(Her name's Gertrude)














(You have NO IDEA how heartbroken I am that they had no vacancies)


(I can't even...but it is definitely advertised for miles beforehand!)


We traveled to the Grand Canyon, which is always incredibly amazing. Thing is, no picture we could take (especially with iPhones!) could anywhere close to doing it justice. You'll just have to take our word for it; it's AMAZING.

I DID take a picture of the sign, and while I know that some of you will claim that it's not enough to prove we were actually at "The Rim" (as they call it), sometimes you have to step out from behind the "camera" and just enjoy. Make mental pictures. Barring senility, they might last longer, anyway...


Tonight, we stay at yet another iconic roadside attraction. Let not the shabbiness of the sign fool you, it's clean and even has (semi-working) free wifi!


PS: If you're ever in Williams, Arizona, go to South Rims Wine and Beer Garage. Amazing ambience (T-bird in the main room), great wine and beer selection, awesome nachos (some of you know how I feel about nachos), and the owner's a fun dude! Plus it's 1/2-block from El Rancho.

The Painted Desert and Scared Trees

Once upon a time, Louise and my dad dragged all us kids to see the Petrified Forest. I must've been about eight at the time, and I was wondering why...WHY...they would take me to a place where trees had been scared. What kind of monster lived in those woods? What kind of fear had struck the heart of those poor trees? What kind of PARENTS would take their kids to a place where something had scared the TREES?!?

Needless to say, seeing petrified wood was a huge let down to my eight-year-old self (a letdown and just a little bit of a relief).

This time, I was prepared. "The trees are not scared, Thelma; use the other definition." ;) What I had forgotten (or didn't/couldn't notice in my hyper-watchfulness for the boogey man) was the sweeping majesty of the Painted Desert. It was stunning and breathtaking, and it seemed to never end.

At the end of this post, we're also including just a bunch of pictures that we've taken along the way. Have fun making up your own captions to them (feel free to share in the comments)! Also, if you click on the pictures, it will load them bigger, so you can see the detail in the panoramas, if you so choose.

Tomorrow, we're off to the Grand Canyon (another place I was still looking for the boogeyman, so I'm excited to see it this time!).

Goodnight, all,
- xoxo, The Not-so-worried-anymore Thelma























And now, the weird and wonderful of Route 66:



































Oh, and we DID finally get our fuzzy dice! ;)

Left at Albuquerque

Louise here. After quite the adventure driving yesterday, we made it to Albuquerque!

We started the day with sunshine, then overcast sky, then rain to the point we pulled over with other cars to wait it out. Then a little later, the HAIL. Praises, we found an exit from the freeway where we joined other cars and 18 wheelers at and old gas station, under the roof over the bays for the missing gas pumps. We got the last spot. We were amazed that Ethel had no damage, because as our friend Marcie remarked, it did sound like we were inside a jiffy pop pan. Those puppies were up to two inches in diameter. Adventures abound.

Our goal was to make it here by 5:00 pm, as the Ernie Pyle Library closed at 6:00 pm until Tuesday morning. We rolled in around 4:30!

This has been on my bucket list for eons. The pictures of the library were posted yesterday, and here are a few more. The library is in his home, donated to the city back in the '40s.











For those who are in the younger set, you may never have heard of Ernie Pyle. I was introduced to him during my 8th grade history class, while studying WWII . Our teacher read the closing of "Here is Your War", to give us a realistic sense of what war was like in the trenches. I went home and told my Dad about this, and he said to look on the bookshelf for the book. I was fascinated.

Ernie was a correspondent and covered London during the Blitz, educating Americans about what the British were experiencing. He later volunteered to be a war correspondent in Africa and throughout Europe through VE Day.

Ernie was imbedded with the troops from the beginning, and wrote about the individual servicemen and women, telling the folks back home what they were going through on a personal level, including their names and home addresses. He was the soldier's representative and probably the most loved reporter ever.

Later he joined those fighting in the Pacific and was killed by a sniper just 3 weeks before VJ Day.

In the past, I have dragged my children to his grave at the Punchbowl Cemetery in Hawaii, and I have visited the museum in his childhood home in Dana, Indiana.

That completed, we had a delightful dinner with Kit and Larry Anderson. Kit and I are colleagues through NAPO. She took us site seeing today, and we had a a great time... From Zuni dancing to Old Town tour.

Off again tomorrow. Ethel is behaving beautifully, as we keep adding things to her trunk. After all, there are shops as we travel....

Oy, What a Day!!

We drove from Elk City, OK ( and the Flamingo Inn) to Albuquerque, NM today. Through wind and rain and hail and lightning and some of the most amazing scenery you can imagine.

We booked it to make it to the Ernie Pyle Library and Museum...which I will allow Louise to write about tomorrow, since SHE was the one insisting we get here. The library's not open on Sundays or Mondays, so weathering the storms, so to speak, was an absolute imperative.

But, we're TIRED. We'll write more, in depth, tomorrow. For now, here are some pictures and video of our "adventures" today.

Oklahoma City Is Oh, So Pretty...

We spent the afternoon at the Oklahoma City National Memorial and Museum. Powerful. Gut-wrenching. We didn't take a lot of pictures inside the exhibit, even though we were allowed to. Taking pictures of lost shoes, car keys, office items which belonged to those victims just felt wrong. So, we wandered and remembered and honored the memories of those who fell and the valor of those who stepped up to help.

Outside is a gorgeous memorial, though.








And this, across the street, at the church which was damaged in the blast:


It's titled, "Jesus Wept."

After the somber afternoon, we hit the road in early evening, crossing back roads and more bridges:


and having to backtrack 30-ish miles from a navigation "mishap." At the beginning of this trip, Louise made the rule that the navigator who caused the fewest amounts of u-turns "won." She's now changed said rule to be that the navigator who causes the MOST amounts of u-turns wins.

I'm not naming names about this 30-ish mile mishap, but Louise is now winning this game...

We drove through some of the craziest weather either of us have encountered (and let's all remember all the crazy places...and weather...that Thelma has visited), and finally made it.

To the Flamingo Inn. Because, it's the FLAMINGO. INN!!


Tomorrow? Amarillo by morning (you're welcome, all you George Strait fans).