Last Days of Trip to Southwest
If you ever plan to motor west Travel my way, take the highway that's the best Get your kicks on Route 66…
I’ve long had this vision of being a reporter when on the road — via Instagram and Substack. Like a 21st-century Charles Kuralt (who had a 3-person crew and roamed the “Great American Highway“) producing the popular “On the Road“ series for CBS for over 10 years.
WELL, with a one-person crew, and no network budget, it’s way harder than I thought.
If I just posted on Instagram, it’d be simple.
But I love the opportunity that Substack presents.
I can WRITE.
My photos can be (comparatively) BIG. It’s like filmmakers want people to see their creations on full size screens, rather than streaming.)
No gatekeepers imposing algorithms on my output
I can get paid. It’s direct and doesn’t get filtered through Youtube or Google or Facebook. Plus it’s from people who want to support my communications. BTW, I’m also delighted in having as many free subscriptions as possible. The point is to reach people.
Now that I’m back, I need to get on to other things, so I’m gonna throw out pix from the rest of the trip (not in strict chronological order) in the next few posts.
It’s good to be back at Ground Control. My posts are gonna get better now…
Above video: the Highway 66 that’s still there (and not Disneyfied), along with the Stones” “Carol“ from their “Ya-Yas” album, live at Mad. Sq. Gdn. Best with sound loud here. Rollin along…Burma Shave…scant traffic…
Who could resist? The neon drew me in here for dinner in Flagstaff. Inside: all the spirit of a Great American Diner, from juke box (with flip-through pages of songs), to pix of notable people all over walls, and old school milkshake makers.
I ordered an eight ounce steak ($19) and, oh hell, a root beer float.
The float was fine, but then the waitress brought a plate with overcooked corn on cob, big amt. mashed potatoes with foul smelling gravy and — 2 veal cutlets that looked like breaded shoe leather fried in grease.
She took it back and eventually brought the steak, which was the worst I’ve ever had.
Don’t like to diss like this, but this food was BAD.
Next morning, heading west out of Flagstaff:
Now on to Seligman, Arizona…
Tourists galore. Authentic becomes inauthentic. Disney influence. Internet stampede. Not entirely unpleasant, but it was something special Back Then.
I went in and said to the chef, “If I bring you a dead squirrel, will you cook it? “No,” he said,but it got a good laugh.
Think what Hwy 66 was like in 1946! I remember all the mineral/fossil/crystal stores, trading posts, and — snake farms — in Missouri and Texas in the ‘60s. I kick myself for never visiting a snake farm.
All in all, being on the open road in the Southwest, where there are few cars and way less stress than California roads, is a great relief…
Oh, give me land, lotsa land under starry skies above — don't fence me in…
Thanks for the nostalgic ride down highway 66. I couldn’t have done better if I thumbed a ride out there on Route 66 in meatspace, but I got my kicks right here in cyberspace without leaving the house… There’s nothing worse when you’re on the road and the food is bad...
Hey Lloyd, thanks for the freebie. Just doing an out west stay here is Australia & have thought seriously about ditching the busy, stressy, full of bs coastal living. Have you ever considered that as possible for your great self?