planes, trains and automobiles
the way the west should be experienced
#2015Roadtrip #twocootstravel
Planes. Trains. Automobiles. Planes and automobiles - well, we were good at those, but the train had long been that elusive carrot dangling before our eyes. We have always wanted to be lulled to sleep by the cadence of the train's movement, eat in dining cars on tables draped with white linen, even struggle with a shower/toilet in a single tiny space. Long ago, it was the way everyone wanted to travel; then came the automobile and America's love affair with four-wheels. Who says you can't have the best of every world . . .
The time is now! Go for it ,Two Coots!
We knew we wanted to visit the Grand Canyon, and we also wanted to get there and back in extraordinary fashion, making the entire trip one one for our record books. We set goals. Do you set goals for each trip you take? See exactly what you've been missing? Relive a dream? We harkened to the days when our parents traveled, saving for an entire year, planning months ahead, and counting down the days until departure. We wanted to experience the finer things in life, opting for the pricier points yet ones that wouldn't break our budget. We asked ourselves: will this trip be a do-over? The answer: no, which in itself made many of the decisions for us.
Goal: To make the journey there and back as AMAZING as the destination itself.
So, grab your carry-on luggage, your boarding pass, steady your legs, pack your head scarf, and hit the air/rails/road with Two Coots!
The time is now! Go for it ,Two Coots!
We knew we wanted to visit the Grand Canyon, and we also wanted to get there and back in extraordinary fashion, making the entire trip one one for our record books. We set goals. Do you set goals for each trip you take? See exactly what you've been missing? Relive a dream? We harkened to the days when our parents traveled, saving for an entire year, planning months ahead, and counting down the days until departure. We wanted to experience the finer things in life, opting for the pricier points yet ones that wouldn't break our budget. We asked ourselves: will this trip be a do-over? The answer: no, which in itself made many of the decisions for us.
Goal: To make the journey there and back as AMAZING as the destination itself.
So, grab your carry-on luggage, your boarding pass, steady your legs, pack your head scarf, and hit the air/rails/road with Two Coots!
ATL > Chicago : 715 miles
Saturday, May 15: 8:55 a.m. departure from ATL
planes . . .
What can we say about planes that hasn't been said? Been there; done that. The new part of this experience, flying Southwest. No boarding passes, no assigned seats - just show up and get in line in the order you walked through the door. I suppose it could have been worse, but we were hard-pressed to find anything bad with this leg of the trip. Great prices (booked six months in advance), plus a flight attendant singing during descent; well, it was definitely different yet entertaining, and her serenade made us forget all about that big thump upon landing. Her lyrics included the fact that if you marry her, you get to fly free! We will pass that along to our single friends. Now, we follow the signs (great signage Chicago!) toward the downtown train - there's another train waiting on us! And sure enough, down a few blocks on busy Chicago streets, across the Chicago River, and we were there - eating our FIRST Chicago Dog in a busy Union Station.
Chicago > Flagstaff : 1,699 miles
Saturday, May 15: 3 p.m. departure from Chicago
trains . . .
I've always wanted to be summoned "All Aboard" by a conductor who stood beside a steel door offering only seconds for travelers to rise to the platform and disappear inside - I didn't just want to ride down the street, but spend hours moving to its rhythm. It was the mainly the old Westerns that seduced me. There were scruffy-faced, rugged men, leaping onto open doors to catch the spirited cars, then as sure as shootin', they'd skirt through an open door on the other side, skidding down the rocky embankment and disappearing into the dust. Ah, Butch and Sundance, I loved you best. Then, there was White Christmas. What can you expect when you combine Bing Crosby, ballroom dancing and beautiful girls, falling snow and a train - sheer magic and romance. I have been smitten ever since.
Amtrak's Southwest Chief was calling our name. Its entire route runs from Chicago to Los Angeles. We would debark in Flagstaff, some 33 hours after boarding in Chicago. I felt sure there wouldn't be any cowboys jumping in and out of sliding doors, and for sure, there wouldn't be any snow or melodies of Bing wafting through the air, but there would be sleeping and dining and tight places! Just like I had always imagined.
We should have known early on that the service was going to be impeccable. Since we had a sleeper, we were ushered into the Metropolitan Lounge in Chicago prior to departure. Goodies and sofas to make the two-hour wait easier. I'm beginning to like this first-class service. As we pulled out of Chicago, I swear my open mouth never closed. It really wasn't anything spectacular - just a series of highrises, train tracks, and buildings which quickly transformed to a vast openness right before our eyes as we headed west - , but the more we travel we have come to expect that new experiences should always take your breath away. Our personal attendant quickly made sure we had everything we needed, made our dinner reservations, and urged us to enjoy! No problem, I confirmed. In the dining car, we met Luis, our 24-year-old server who was on his first cross-county trip with Amtrak. His smile and personality was the perfect accent for train travel. We met other attendants and servers that had been working for the railroad for more than 40 years; they told us that once train life gets in your blood, there's no turning back.
As we settled in for the ride, we gained a new perspective. You can't get this behind the wheel of a car or riding in the passenger seat or hurtling sky-high at 30,000 feet. We crossed the Mississippi River. We saw wheat fields, ranches, missions, pueblos, mountains, deserts, and the heart of cities and communities that we'd never see otherwise. We even saw our first "tumbling tumbleweed" as cattle, horses and elk who were oddly close to the tracks, made a bee-line toward open land.
We watched the sun set and thought how lucky we are to have this chance to live a dream. We would only have one night, so we'd soak up every second. We "opened" our bed (bunk and lower bed) and decided it was only fitting to snuggle together in the lower bed, experiencing the sway and cadence as the Chief made its way westward. We slept through the night, only waking when the train made a quick stop at a depot to pick up passengers. The next morning, our dining mates mentioned the noise of the train's mechanical rhythm, finding it difficult to get accustomed to the sounds; we wondered how we would sleep without them from this point forward.
Amtrak's Southwest Chief was calling our name. Its entire route runs from Chicago to Los Angeles. We would debark in Flagstaff, some 33 hours after boarding in Chicago. I felt sure there wouldn't be any cowboys jumping in and out of sliding doors, and for sure, there wouldn't be any snow or melodies of Bing wafting through the air, but there would be sleeping and dining and tight places! Just like I had always imagined.
We should have known early on that the service was going to be impeccable. Since we had a sleeper, we were ushered into the Metropolitan Lounge in Chicago prior to departure. Goodies and sofas to make the two-hour wait easier. I'm beginning to like this first-class service. As we pulled out of Chicago, I swear my open mouth never closed. It really wasn't anything spectacular - just a series of highrises, train tracks, and buildings which quickly transformed to a vast openness right before our eyes as we headed west - , but the more we travel we have come to expect that new experiences should always take your breath away. Our personal attendant quickly made sure we had everything we needed, made our dinner reservations, and urged us to enjoy! No problem, I confirmed. In the dining car, we met Luis, our 24-year-old server who was on his first cross-county trip with Amtrak. His smile and personality was the perfect accent for train travel. We met other attendants and servers that had been working for the railroad for more than 40 years; they told us that once train life gets in your blood, there's no turning back.
As we settled in for the ride, we gained a new perspective. You can't get this behind the wheel of a car or riding in the passenger seat or hurtling sky-high at 30,000 feet. We crossed the Mississippi River. We saw wheat fields, ranches, missions, pueblos, mountains, deserts, and the heart of cities and communities that we'd never see otherwise. We even saw our first "tumbling tumbleweed" as cattle, horses and elk who were oddly close to the tracks, made a bee-line toward open land.
We watched the sun set and thought how lucky we are to have this chance to live a dream. We would only have one night, so we'd soak up every second. We "opened" our bed (bunk and lower bed) and decided it was only fitting to snuggle together in the lower bed, experiencing the sway and cadence as the Chief made its way westward. We slept through the night, only waking when the train made a quick stop at a depot to pick up passengers. The next morning, our dining mates mentioned the noise of the train's mechanical rhythm, finding it difficult to get accustomed to the sounds; we wondered how we would sleep without them from this point forward.
A rancher gathers his herd.
Flagstaff > Williams > Grand Canyon
Saturday, May 16. Arrival 9 p.m. in Flagstaff. Overnight then shuttle to Williams to catch the Grand Canyon Railway on Monday morning.
Trains #2
After spending overnight in Flagstaff, we took the Arizona Shuttle (very economical and convenient pick-up at the Flagstaff Amtrak Station, downtown) to Williams and our lodging, The Grand Canyon Railway Hotel. As part of the Canyon Discovery Plus package, we had lodging in Williams and in the Canyon which included a rail ride to and from the Canyon. It was the perfect extension to our rail adventure; one payment (check out AARP for a 15% discount) and done. They also offer options (daily one way train service, hotel accommodations, etc) without everything (food, accommodations, train ride) packaged together. The Xanterra properties, both in Williams and in the Canyon, were good, offering dining options and prioritizing green living (2014 TripAdvisor Green Leaders Gold certification). It was our ride in the Chief, one of the luxury cars, which included the entrance into the observatory car and out back to the observation deck, that satisfied us most in the first class adventure. It was quite an escort into the Grand Canyon.
the grand canyon
I could say lots of words here but why. Stay in the park if possible. At Maswik Lodge, part of the Xanterra family, we were only a few hundred feet from the canyon's edge and the bus stop on Hermits Rest Route. We could catch the free shuttle, transfer to other lines (all free), and go to any area of the South Rim. (The South Rim is open year round; the North Rim, only from May 15 - October 15). Don't forget to stop at the Grand Canyon Visitor Center and stamp your passport. After a few stops at various look-out points, we consciously starting gravitating toward people at they were arriving, instigating our own experiment. "Wow." Then silence. Over and over again. Just one word. Every single time. There is no way that photographs - movies - TV shows do this wonder justice. Even when you're there, you're rubbing your eyes, questioning if this is really what you are seeing. The majesty simply takes over and you stand in awe of something like you've never seen and more than likely will never see again.
Officially a Park
February 26, 1919
Park Size 1,218,376 acres
Colorado River 277 miles
that flows within the Canyon; total length = 1,450 miles
(according to one tour guide, the average wait for a Kayak permit is 10 years)
Average Depth 1 mile
Rim Elevations
South 7,000 feet
North 8,100 feet
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Flagstaff > St. Louis > HOME : 2,099 Miles
Wednesday, noon. Arrival in Flagstaff from Williams (and The Grand Canyon Railway experience), headed home via Route 66.
. . . and automobiles
Route 66 and the side trips
We're a rag top duo, and we couldn't see traveling back from the west in any other fashion. Hopping aboard our horse of a car, we settled into our Mustang for the next six days, donning a head scarf and jacket as needed. As time-sensitive as our return trip had to be, there were moments when we had to veer off our itinerary, take a risk, drive a little faster, make up a little time, and put ourselves in the middle of something more.
petrified forest national park
I-40, near Holbrook Arizona
Thousands of years of history lay along the foundation of the forest. Along the roadway lay logs of various sizes, upright or flat, petrified wood that is silica—quartz. It is estimated they have been here over 211 million years. The park is considered to have one of the largest concentrations of petrified wood in the world; others are found in North Dakota, Argentina and Egypt. It's a 146 square mile area that made its way onto the itinerary of those who seek to discover the old route of Route 66.
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walnut canyon
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painted desert
I-40 near Holbrook, Arizona
As part of the Petrified Forest National Park, the painted desert drops you in the middle of a water color painting, with layers of darks and lights, of shadows and edges. Dana Trent at the National Park office offered us the speedy version of viewing the park; we arrived at the southern end heading north, one hour prior to the 28-mile main road which slices the park in half closes to all traffic. Most spectacular: the Blue Mesa, the Agate Bridge, the Crystal Forest and the overlooks. Just in time for sunset . . . barely.
monument valley, utah
US Highway 163 between Mexican Hat and Bluff, Utah
"Do you think we have time?" asked Len.
"When will be back?" I replied. Almost automatically, the car veered itself north, and I started shuffling maps.
We were headed toward Utah.
In the heart of the desert, inhaling dust, punching the accelerator, leaving Route 66 behind, we came face-to-face with those childhood westerns every little guy watched with his daddy or grandpa. We were in Monument Valley. Visitors can ride through the valley getting as close as possible to the formations (might I add, we started with our rag top down - Len's idea which he quickly reconsidered). If we listened carefully, we could hear the clip-clop of horses making their way through the mesas, buttes and spires where nature sculptured masterpieces millions of years ago. Imagination has named these rocks: elephant butte, the three sisters, the hub, totem pole, artist's point, north window and the thumb. Some are based upon imagination, others on Navajo meanings. Although the weather dictated a less than stellar sunset, it was well worth the detour.
"When will be back?" I replied. Almost automatically, the car veered itself north, and I started shuffling maps.
We were headed toward Utah.
In the heart of the desert, inhaling dust, punching the accelerator, leaving Route 66 behind, we came face-to-face with those childhood westerns every little guy watched with his daddy or grandpa. We were in Monument Valley. Visitors can ride through the valley getting as close as possible to the formations (might I add, we started with our rag top down - Len's idea which he quickly reconsidered). If we listened carefully, we could hear the clip-clop of horses making their way through the mesas, buttes and spires where nature sculptured masterpieces millions of years ago. Imagination has named these rocks: elephant butte, the three sisters, the hub, totem pole, artist's point, north window and the thumb. Some are based upon imagination, others on Navajo meanings. Although the weather dictated a less than stellar sunset, it was well worth the detour.
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meteor crater
Exit 233, I-40, Winslow, AZ
Always keep an open mind when you travel, especially when you visit the world's best preserved meteorite impact site (50,000 years ago) on Earth. Nearly one mile across, 2.4 miles in circumference and 550 feet deep, Meteor Crater has definitely made an IMPACT. There's educational displays as well as guided tours. It is sure to delight the science geek (Len) in your group.
canyon de chelly National Monument
Route 191 in Chinle, Arizona
People have lived in these canyons for over 5,000 years; what makes this such a spectacular place is that they still do. Remains of the first residents who lived in small groups are etched on the canyon walls. Random houses continue to dot the canyon floor, and often, visitors stand at various look-out points and watch residents climb from their homes on the Canyon floor. The Canyon is made up of several canyons where some walls rise 1,000 feet. The National Monument was established in 1931; it is comprised of nearly 84,000 acres within the Navajo Reservation. The canyons are home to the Dine, the Navajo people. Alice (pictured below) has lived in the canyon all her life and sells homemade jewelry at various locations within the Park.
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the best of route 66
We were in the heart of a love affair; this trip was one of appreciation, curiosity, and discovery. Now, it was time to let the wind take us home. And there was no better way than in a convertible on the legendary Route 66. You gotta see this!
The Wigwam Motel had to be one of the most transcendent places along the route. People still spend the night in wigwams (15 still stand complete with private bath) while vintage cars sit in parking spaces and you swear, any moment, your grandma is going to open a car door and get out. There were originally 7 Wigwam Village Motels; three remain, including this one in Holbrook, Arizona, and one in Cave City, Kentucky and one in San Bernadino, California.
On many stretches of the highway, painted inscriptions of the state and route remain an imprint for posterity.
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Established in 1928, Budville Trading Company has a story as wild as the west. Bud Rice owned the store where he sold groceries, gas, operated a gas station, wrecker service, salvage yard and repair garage; he even sold bus tickets if need be. He was murdered her in 1967 during a hold up. His wife Flossie kept it going for a while but closed it in 1979.
The road trip took on a new meaning as waves of storms began hitting the west. It was during our stop in Amarillo when the rain began to barrel down and it didn't let up for weeks. We passed bridges where water almost touched. Unfortunately, we had to second-guess routes due to flooding.
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The original road for as far as the eye can see in Texas.
Everything with a side of jalapeno at Big Texas Steak Ranch.
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We understand the burgers here at the Dairy King - a restored old Marathon gas station - are just as good as his famous Route 66 cookies.We got to try neither because the weekend before a holiday, evidently, everyone leaves town. Commerce, OK.
It's the family store on the corner in Winslow, Arizona, that draw the tourists inside once people finish snapping and posing with the statue and the Ford.
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Our Postcards from the road
11 days - 13 states - 4,513 miles - two coots - one mind-blowing road trip
I can not remember the last time I was on the road for 11 days. Experiencing the opposite of my everyday existence, on my schedule and dime. Exploring the unknown. Just being as free as I cared to be (there's a Mary Tyler Moore reference there somewhere). Even in reflection, I did remind myself that it was a little too long in the same clothes. But that's it - freedom - and that's what extended travel allows. Lengthy travel affords you spontaneity that you don't necessarily get when wandering around in your own state during the course of a weekend. I believe as serendipity becomes possible, you let go, exhale and smash the boulders that weigh you down, the voices that blare too loudly, and the garbage that thinks it has a place in your life.
Go west, young man. Heck, go anywhere, wherever the wind takes you. And do it again, and again, and again . . .
Go west, young man. Heck, go anywhere, wherever the wind takes you. And do it again, and again, and again . . .
