Home Home on the Ranch - Chapter 1

Man! We are really really glad to be back home! Talk about bushed-and-a-half! If I were a ’39 Ford, my axel would be dragging! It will take a couple of weeks to unwind from R&C’s Big Adventure.

Only a few bags and suitcases made it into the house the night we returned. The remainder of the “stuff” (not sure what else to call the compendium of trip snacks, yard sale items, foodstuff goodies, clearance sale items from Wal-Mart, and what all) would have to patiently wait until we had the energy to haul it into the inner sanctum. This could take awhile.

It was a hoot to hit the hay and find that our expensive heiney-fit mattress had Alzheimer’s and lost its memory while we were away. After flopping onto our weight resistant, buttock supporting, supercalifornyrealistic wonder bed, we found that it was like diving into a swimming pool that had no water in it. We basically are going to have to take a week or so to re-mold the bloody thing to our aging and fatigued airframes. Being too tired to argue with a demented bed, we just called it a night. Surprisingly, it was at least as good a night’s sleep as we got in the Super 8 Motels.

We missed some of our dear friends and family on the outbound leg of the trip. So, it was our desire to catch them on the flip-flop. Though our spirit was willing, our flesh was weaker than my mother’s coffee. Our sincerest apologies to all. We will try again when we can. When your body screams vile and opprobrious epithets at you for not giving it enough time to rest, you need to listen. After my body finally threatened to sue for a divorce, we turned the grill west instead of north. Had we slowed down there would have been a body parts revolution. 

In fact, Connie and I are trying to find ways to be able to make more than one annual trip to the east. I advised dear friend and brother, Ben Garwood of Plainfield, IL that all we needed was a couple of dump trucks full of hundred dollar bills and it would all work out just fine! Uh huh.

It will be difficult to express just how great this trip has been but I’ll try. To begin, we actually got started rather late in the game. The plan had been to be in Texas by the first week in November. That simply was impossible for us to do. We were taking care of the completion of our barn project (you know…the “8 weeks” project that has taken nine months to complete). Plus, there were other factors that were governing our life like business and such. As it turned out, our timing was perfect.

When you travel in the winter, the concern is always about the weather. I-40 through Flagstaff, AZ is always a messy area. I’ve been through there in January and it can get your attention. Being an arrogant, ignorant, and/or inconsiderate driver on an snow road can leave you upside down in the median with your luggage packed tightly around your shoulders and your fresh cup of Starbucks filling at least one ear. It isn’t uncommon to see stretches of I-40 closed from Flagstaff to Winslow or from (much of) Albuquerque to Tucumcari. The reasonable solution is to take I-10 which affords fewer weather assaults.

Our trip actually commenced from Harbor City/Torrance where we were guests at granddaughters, Liesl and Cosette’s, birthday party. Their birthdays are close together so we can opt for the one-bash-for-two-cuties party schedule. That also means that we started our trip picking up I-10 from the I-405 at Santa Monica. “Go east, old man”, and so it was on a warm and bright day.

There really is an awful lot of I-10. It stretches from Santa Monica, CA all the way to Jacksonville, FL. Talk about being able to see a “slice of America”! I’ve been on I-10 as far as Pensacola, FL and can testify to the awesome beauty and diversity of the southern parts of our country. There are stretches of I-10 that can also provoke comments such as tendered by my daughter, Jennifer, when we drove from California to Abilene for son, Jeff’s, wedding in ’98. After three days on the road she blurted, “Does the scenery ever change?!”. It did.... once we entered downtown Abilene.

On this journey we decided to not “drive ‘til you drop” before taking up camp. Both of our bodies were delighted about this decision. The first camp was made at the “Super 8” in Blythe. We’re somewhat fond of “Super 8” particularly after an extremely pleasant experience at one of the inns in southern Oklahoma last year. However, we soon discovered that not all watermelons are created equal. Being individually owned, some of the “8’s” were sub-par both in service and maintenance. You pays your money and you takes your chances when lodging at a motel of their modest price range.

From Blythe we meandered up to Prescott Valley, AZ to see friends and fellow ministers, Tom and Jan Luke. Unfortunately, our timing was a tad off. Wouldn’t you know that we would pick a time smack in the middle of “Volante Academy of the Arts’s” big Christmas pageant in downtown Prescott. So, we didn't get too hook up with them on this go around. We had hoped to make it back there on the return trip but were unable to this time. Check them out at: http://volanteacademy.org/. You can help support a ministry of excellence!

What we did do was head over to Sedona. The route there takes you through the old mining-town-turned-tourist-trap of Jerome. Given the fact that it was about 4 PM and that we had worn out our breakfast, we knocked over “Jerome Palace”. One of the specialties is the “Haunted Burger”. After we cast the spirits out of it, it was quite tasty! After taking a lot of pictures of the area we continued our trek.

However, by the time we reached Sedona it was dark. That was an unqualified "bummer dude" event.  However, the drive north through “Oak Creek Canyon” was still nice because the various inns and motels along the way were decked out with Christmas lights. We hit the end of the rope at Winslow. Had it not been at night, we would have stopped at the Meteor Crater near there. I've been there before but Connie has not. It cost one arm, one leg, one grandchild, and a well-polished hubcap to get in, but, it's (argueably) worth it to see a mile deep chunk of 15,000 year old history.

With our coffee and soda cups full, the next day (day 3) found us enjoying an uneventful trip on I-40 to Amarillo, TX. Actually, we did have an “event” in Gallup, NM. Someone (bless their darlin' hearts and all of their vital organs too) left a “Golden Corral” open for lunch. We stopped in for a bite and found that, when we left, we had made money on the deal. There were only light snacks that night because we were still full!

There was great delight taken over the 2.89 gas price at the locally owned pit stop! Our California fill-up was at 3.54! Wonder who we can blame for that? The southwestern motif place was exceptional in that it harbored a gorgeous red 1950 Buick sedan and a  red and black 1941 Chevy flat bed truck! They also had lots of bric-a-brac with which to temp tourists but…we had already prayed, “Lead us not into temptation”. So, were able to leave the place with full fuel and an empty bladder and nothing else other than a Pepsi refill. Moving on down the Interstate....there was a bit of snow left lying around on the roadsides but the highway was clear and dry.

From Amarillo, the route was straight to OKC then I-44 to Tulsa. There was a light rain most of the way but nothing like the mid-west “frog strangler” storms. It was a piece of pie (hoping to conjure up thoughts of the movie "2010"). The laundry was attended to then we called it a night. Gas 2.87 to 2.94.

OK…time to sleep in. The continental breakfast was not substantial enough to keep us from lazing our way into the morning. Besides, there was a coffee pot in the room (did I tell you that I prefer “Super 8” motels?). When we finally did crack an eyelid, I asked Connie for the bag that contained my toiletries. She handed me this dinky rectangle that I was sure could only hold a pair of socks and an eyebrow pencil. “You’re kidding!”, I thought. But, when the pouch was opened, lo and behold, there before my coffee assisted eyes, lay my two brushes, my deodorant, my slick’em smell’em (“Old Spice”, don’tcha know), a can of shaving cream, my regular razor, and my electric razor! If anyone ever asks if they know anyone who can pack 3 pounds of sugar in a 2 pound sack, tell them that my wife can! We sort of wallowed our way into the day after that.

Dear friend and brother, Red Polston and his wife, Patty, met us at 71^st and Memorial for lunch. Red is the leader of the pack for “Halo Jordan” Christian ministry band. You need to check these guys out but only if your feet aren’t broken because you’ll need to tap at least one foot: (http://www.halojordan.com). If your pocketbook isn’t broken, you will be blessed if you would be a part of their ministry. Red is a “prayin’ man” and knows how to pray blessings upon us.  

Now, you need to understand that “his Redness” is a great cook and that he is not known to dine at dives. That’s why his and Patty’s discriminating palates took us to “Famous Dave’s BBQ”. It is absolutely no wonder that Dave is famous! The waitresses fetched us, get this, a large trash can lid (lined with wax paper) loaded with BBQ ribs, brisket, and grilled chicken along with side orders of fries and corn on the cob! A couple of us dang near needed knuckle replacements after vying for the scrumptious goodies.

After barely making it out of the place due to overstressing the flooring and after hugs-all-around, the two California travelers eased out of the parking lot. Can you imagine our surprise when a huge ‘possum waddled his way across our path! My camera wasn’t at hand so I missed the “shot for the day”! The critter ducked underneath the wooden deck of “Famous Daves”. Uh…I wonder…naw. Anyway, it was time to go to Uncle Ron and Aunt Sue’s place.

Ron and Sue greeted us with hugs and smiles. We settled in for a great visit. After awhile and due to all of the non-union jaw work, we had worked up yet another appetite (my...but we humans do have our frailties, eh?). I had remembered a favorite burger place from when I lived in Tulsa in the early ‘80’s. Come to find out, “Goldies” was still around and still providing one of the best burgers anywhere so Ron and Sue took us there. They have a condiment bar from which you can load your flame-grilled burger and bun. Life is good at “Goldies”. After that, we headed back to the house, visited awhile longer, then made for the snore sack.

Day 6: After a nice home-made breakfast with Ron and Sue, some general lollygagging, and, after straightening out a few computer issues with their computers (computer dudes are handy gadgets to have around), it was time to bid “adios” to our hosts. Both are great at spoiling relatives so we wanted to testify that they scored the highest of marks on our score cards!

With Tulsa in our rearview mirror, our route was northbound to Fort Scott, KS via I-44 Will Rogers Turnpike. On the way we encountered the famous former world’s largest MacDonald’s over-the-freeway pit stop at Vanita, OK. Though we’d stopped there before a few years ago, we simply had to stop again. It was nice to sample the “Blue Bell” ice cream again! Connie had pumpkin spice and I savored the mocha madness.

It's only a few hours to Fort Scott, Kansas from Tulsa. Fort Scott is noteworthy for a lot of things. One is that it’s my mother’s home town. OK. She’s not all that famous. I “Googled” her and all that it said was “Who?”. However, it is where the first national cemetery is located. Also, it was one of the way points on the Pony Express route. If that isn’t enough to wax your mustache, they rebuilt the original fort after which the town is named (Gen. Winfield Scott)! It’s complete with tourist traps which reach out and grab passing folks by the legs and that don’t let go until you pay for a ticket to tour the place. I stayed out of reach because I’ve already been there some years ago and paid for my release.

Cousins Rick and Carol Singmaster and daughter Sylvia along with cousin Gary Singmaster and his full-time special lady, Kelly, all got together for supper at a rather unique diner near Pittsburg, KS. The place is called, “Chicken Annies” which, of course, serves the best chicken in the land. We did our part in making a dent in the chicken population that evening. To say the least, it was fabulous! The side of fries and the garlic coleslaw boosted the meal up even higher on my list. Though many folks don’t doubt their claim, the other restaurant next door, “Chicken Mary’s” apparently takes exception. Guess where we will pig out on chicken the next time we come through this way again?

With "God bless you" and hugs all around, we headed back to the motel for some much needed rest prior to the next leg...and thigh (heheh...I crack myself up).

Stay tuned for the next chapter of “Connie and Randy’s Big Adventure”