Sunday, April 12, 2009

Arizona

The campsite we're staying at has Wi-Fi. Pretty cool! So, I'm writing from the warm, snuggly comfort of my sleeping bag right now, in our tent trailer, in a campsite in Sedona, Arizona. We have been driving for two days straight. Ugh. I hate sitting in a car for so long. I practiced sitting still for my flight to Europe. It's gonna be twice as long, and the only space I will be entitled to occupy will be a little chair instead of a whole backseat. It was hot and smelly coming over here. Our route happened to take us past several factories and cow-manure piles. BUT, m'darlings, I did get my kicks on Route 66. You know, it's not really much after all. If I hadn't known this was the mother road, I would have passed it off as just another highway. Once we got to a tourist town, though, they made sure you knew that this road WAS, in FACT, ROUTE 66. A strip of souvenir shops sold Route 66 T-shirts, shot glasses, metal signs, fake license plates, china plates, briefcases, hats, keychains, magnets, pins, salt-and-pepper shakers, and more. Hey, folks, how about an oven mitt printed with Route 66 sign logos to remember your trip? They were on sale at three different shops for $6.99. I actually brought ten bucks, which I thought would be enough to buy one of the signs for my room, or maybe my door. NOT. They were exactly $12.99 everywhere I looked. Pfff. (That's like, that thing you do when you blow out of your lips all annoyed-like.) I did buy a cheap souvenir-store-quality pin for my backpack. It's the Route 66 sign, nothing fancy. I've always liked the sign, even before embarking on this perilous voyage.
We ate at the Route 66 cafe, which I thought was very gimmicky of us. The place had what is considered "atmosphere." There was an old-fashioned looking red car on the roof. The inside was all done up to look like a fifties diner, complete with a blonde waitress with a poofy hairdo. I wondered briefly if she was required to do her hair that way for her job. I don't see why she'd have hair like that otherwise. There was a big TV right smack in the middle of everything, but it was tuned to men's wrestling. I couldn't watch it because of the awkwardness of staring at men rolling around on the floor grabbing each other. Even reading that probably made you squirm. Imagine watching it. Bleurgh. The bathroom stalls were made of car doors, with only a curtain to conceal yourself. The walls in there were plastered with portraits of the King, Route 66 signs, more Elvis pictures, more Route 66 signs, and a final round of Route 66 signs. My fingers started itching, and I had to clamp my hands shut to refrain from prying a sign off the wall and casually smuggling it out under my T-shirt. 
None of us really enjoyed that town too much. We were all pretty eager to get to the campsite and start setting up the trailer. It's a really nice site, there's a river right next to us. Tomorrow we hike all day, nine miles in all. Then we're going to this Indian monument thing, but I can't remember what it's called. Tozigoot? I don't know. We did go to this other Indian thing today, the Montezuma Castle. He built this thing on a mountain so as to ward off soldiers and stuff who were coming to sneak up on their Aztec tribe. It was cool, but you couldn't walk right up to it. It was about half a mile up the mountain, and once you'd stared at it for a while, you were pretty much done. We swung through the visitor's center, then got back on the road. 
Oh, I forgot to mention. Happy Easter. We bought marshmallow Peeps at a Walgreen's along the way today to celebrate. Then we roasted them over a campfire earlier tonight. It was really goood, with extra o's. The colored sugar hardened, so it was gooey marshmallow cream all spilling out of this crunchy sugar shell. Only five Peeps to a pack, though, so I only got one sticky sugar bomb to enjoy. Ah well. That was my Easter thingie. Celebration, or whatever. I'll put up the photos as soon as I return home. Probably no more posts until then, sorry... unless I find another place with Wi-Fi. Six days, y'all.

And for the record, I did dance in the middle of Route 66. My dad stopped at a minimart for a soda, so I ran out to the middle of the street and sang that Route 66 song and danced. No cars were driving along just then, so yeah. Some people stared a little, but they're probably used to it by now. Arizonians are known to be a little wacky. I felt like a local.

6 comments:

Billy said...

Jenny~
I really enjoy every post you make... you have me laughing almost everytime. You really are an amazing writer and person. I really do envy you. Haha, I think i may be starting to have a lil' crush on you O__O. wow. im really a stalker. :D

~billy

Jeni said...

That is so awkward.

Billy said...

It is, how so?

Jeni said...

*shrug*

Alyssa said...

hahahaha billy
you are an awkward person

Jeni said...

Exactly!