The Road Trip, part 16

Day 15 -- Bedrock behind us, on to, um, Holbrook, Arizona, as it turned out

Time to leave Bedrock at last, and head toward Tucson, we took to the road at 1:30 in the afternoon, having spent the morning doing laundry and packing and saying good-bye. By now we had dumped the Grand Canyon from our plans, for several reasons. One, Val and I have seen it and the kids are still a bit young to appreciate it in depth. Two, the Durango-Silverton train was plenty of train fun, and demonstrated that the kids don't have the attention span for a long train ride. Third, it wouldn't be a cheap stop, what with driving to Williams, taking a hotel for two nights, and the train tickets. Plus we stayed longer in Bedrock than we'd planned, so maybe in a few years, but not now. We adjusted our driving route to take us more directly toward Tucson.

Getting out of Colorado was, of course, twisty and uphill. We did spot one deer ahead on the road, but he scampered off into the trees.

Crossing into Utah, the roads were not appreciably straighter until we reached high desert territory. We saw many wind-sculped rocks and mesas and buttes, and even one arch right by the road (Wilson Arch, I've since learned). But the boy was dozing and there were miles to go, so we didn't stop. To our surprise, though we expected a long, hot drive, we actually got a good bit of rain along this stretch and again in Arizona -- monsoon season, Val calls it. It certainly broke the heat nicely.

We did stop once in Utah, to top off the gas tank. This was, easily, the highest price we paid for fuel the entire trip, over $4.50/gallon.

Motoring on into Arizona, the land changed little -- high desert and barren bluffs. It would have been very dry but for the storm system overhead, which occasionally slashed us with rain or provided entertaining, distant thunderbolts. Small towns clearly embraced the fundamental geologic theme of the region -- Rock Point, Rough Rock, Round Rock, Window Rock, Flat Rock. Val (naturally) spotted one coyote scurrying through the roadside scrub (I did catch a glimpse).

We finally reached I-40, our last major road for the day, and turned west for about 30 miles to Holbrook. Jenny had suggested we stay at the Wigwam Hotel, another Route 66 era relic, which places its guests in stereotyped teepees. A nice thought, but it was getting on toward 9:00 pm and, rather than search for the Wigwam, we simply pulled into a Best Western. As on other nights afield, I set out to forage the local restaurants for dinner; an Italian place provided spaghetti, meatballs, salads, and a pizza. Thus sated, and the kids having burned off energy by jumping on the beds, we dropped off, one by one.