2022: Route 66 and Beyond, Day Ten

DAY TEN, we made it to the double-digits folks! And by this point, we hadn’t even lost anything or had any major setbacks (… although wait for that). I didn’t want to leave our cute little rows of adobe apartments, but we had a full day ahead so we had to get movin’ early as usual.

One last look! WE’LL MISS YOUUUUUUUU.

I did not want to leave Albuquerque, period. When we come back, more time in this area (and New Mexico in general) is needed.

One thing I was kinda anxious about at this point was finding that jewelry similar to Muzzy’s. I never found anything in Old Town, not even from the vendors with their blankets still laid out when we arrived. And as you head East from this area, trading posts and that distinct Southwestern Native jewelry fall off pretty quickly.

I know Albuquerque has tons of trading posts for shopping, but when you narrow it down to the reputable ones, factor in that we had a small window to shop (best be open at 10a), and add in the fact that we were there on a Monday – it was slim pickings, friends. I was left with three spots to choose from, and Palms Trading Company was the highest rated of the three, so off we went to try our luck one last time.

The guys stayed in the car, which was for the best – too much fragile stuff to leave my kids running amok while I looked at jewelry. I also didn’t take any pictures inside, it just felt kinda strange especially since I was also the only shopper at that hour. So you’ll just have to imagine what it looked like on your own – a huge building with different rooms, they sold pretty much anything you could want. The main room was filled with jewelry cases, with separate rooms for rugs, pottery, and souvenir-type stuff. They also had a huge wall of incense, and another wall of dried chiles and other New Mexico foodstuffs.

I was lost for a bit, as there were just SO MANY cases of jewelry. Also, while my mom wore this jewelry every day, the more I tried to focus on the details in my mind, the more they blurred and I couldn’t remember much. I asked my dad to send a picture, but he had trouble finding the bracelet to take pictures for me. So I was kinda just flying blind and confused. Which, let’s be honest, was pretty much half the problem.

Eventually I flagged down an employee, and here’s where things get a bit foggy. Listen, first let me just say that I just don’t believe in that Pollyanna feel-good “your dead loved one is looking over you and sending you signs!!!” stuff. I have several family members and friends that take great comfort from that; be it a song playing on the car radio at the exactly right moment, or a particular animal sighting, a lightning bolt during a conversation, you name it. But I just don’t see any of it. I don’t meet my mom in my dreams (although I’d kill for that, honestly), I don’t “feel her presence” or receive “signs” or whatever, it just does not happen to me.

Until I got this jewelry. I don’t know if it’s just thinking so much of Muzzy in that moment and my emotions took over, or what. But as I stood there helplessly, suddenly this older woman who came over to me was like a reincarnation of my Auntie Anna. She sounded just like her. She was sweet and kind and matter-of-fact just like her, and seemed to know exactly what I was looking for. She pulled out rows of bracelets and plucked out a Zuni cuff, then paired it with two delicate stamped Navajo bangles. It was not my mom’s bracelet, and yet it was just like it, and I still can’t really explain why except it seemed just right. And the entire time I was kind of spaced out so I just stood there quietly enjoying her presence, which felt comforting, like a big hug. Those pieces also came in way under the budget I gave myself (score). She patted my shoulder, gave me a knowing smile, and rang me up. I floated out of that trading post all the way back to the car.

Maybe it was just all my head? I kinda feel like that’s probably the case. But regardless of however that went down: I love my jewelry and am so thankful I found that nice Native lady in that huge shop who knew exactly what I needed. I wear it pretty much every day.

Once I finally found my jewelry, we were ready to get moving along with our day. Here’s where arriving in a city on a Sunday/Monday will always break your heart, because so much will be closed. The Bien Mur Indian Market, the Indian Pueblo Cultural Center, out of the equation. Golden Crown Panaderia for cookies? Nope. Church St. Cafe also closed. But: Mary & Titos was supposed to be open on Mondays! An Albuquerque institution, their red chile sauce is described as “nirvana on a plate”. Every review on TripAdvisor, Yelp, and even the local Reddit begged the reader to go there. So, off we went, ravenously hungry and ready for our minds to be blown.

It turns out that Mary & Tito’s is closed the first Monday of every month, something we were not aware of until we pulled in and found there were no other cars in the lot… so guess what friends. GUESS WHAT, IT WAS THE FIRST MONDAY OF THE MONTH, Y’ALL. That was one of the saddest, biggest disappointments of the trip. No turnover stuffed with adovada and bathed in red chile sauce for meeee. We parked in their parking lot and, completely heartbroken, googled to find a worthy replacement lunch on our phones.

We found a few solid fill-in lunch stops, and headed on our way. It turns out the spot we chose was kitty-corner from Golden Crown Panaderia, the bakery we were told was a must-stop (also closed on Mondays, naturally). OH THE HUMANITY.

I swear to god we will be back soon and on an non-Sunday/non-Monday, so I can have my gluttonous vengeance.

Anyway, we finally settled on Cocina Azul for lunch.

Listen, you can’t complain about the food pretty much anywhere in New Mexico, this spot included. I would also like to note that this is about the point in our trip that Pete hit his Chile Stride. He welcomed the heat and flavors and dug into that spicy chile just like us adults. #growingup

Scott got a sopapilla sorta plate and I went with the carne adovada. And there was so much leftover that I lovingly packed it in our little Braums cooler bag and dragged that stuff all the way back to Wisconsin.

Very full, we were ready to roll out to our next adventure.

And that next adventure? The National Museum of Nuclear Science & History.

This museum is a national repository of nuclear science and is also a Smithsonian affiliate (and we were able to get in on our ASTC passport, score). Here, you can learn the story of the Atomic Age, from early development to the Manhattan Project, and from the Cold War to today.

The first rooms went through early scientific research (fist pump to Marie Curie!) and early uses of atomic energy, mostly early uses in medicine, which frankly was pretty frightening GOD BLESS SCIENTIFIC PROGRESS.

Onwards to a hands-on kids’ area…

(Here’s a fun child’s chemistry set from back in the day.)

There were also display cases of some bonkers early marketing material for nuclear plants, including several pieces from Three Mile Island.

Frankly I find it pretty hilarious (…actually I mean horrifying) to go directly from an exhibit all about the accident at Chernobyl, deeply serious and talking about how their evil government lied about the amount of radiation leaked to innocent citizens… To an exhibit about Three Mile Island. Detailing its own nuclear disaster, but framing it as “thankfully, as our government concluded, no risk ever came to the public near the site”. Lol. That’s not exactly what science has proven over time, but sure…

Next we went through some rooms about the Manhattan Project and early atomic bombs.

On to the Cold War, including info on the ever popular fallout shelters of the time.

I remember reading Sadako and the Thousand Paper Cranes in junior high, that book sat with me for a long time. That was my first inclination that what we did was actually pretty messed up.

Oy. Lots to process from there. We did our duty and put a dent in the gift shop, then it was time to head off to the eastern side of New Mexico. Good bye, Albuquerque. You are a true gem.

Here’s also where we had our first real scare of the trip. We hit the road, as usual. Long, beautiful but deserted landscapes, as usual. And then, somewhere around Clines Corners (which, if you are familiar with the area, you will recognize as THE MIDDLE OF GODDAMN NOWHERE WITH NO CELL SERVICE AND HARDLY ANY OTHER VEHICLES PASSING THROUGH SO BASICALLY NOTHING TO SAVE YOU), the Check Engine light started flashing and many an “oh shit” was whispered between us adults. Shortly, the engine also sometimes let out an ominous shutter. We slowed down in an attempt to not overtax the engine, and just had to hope that we weren’t going to break down in the middle of the desert.

About 20 minutes later (that felt more like 2 hours), we reached a rest stop/gas station thing called Flying C Ranch. Scott popped the hood to take a gander while I hustled the kids inside to use the bathrooms and to get them some slushies to distract them from whatever in the world was going on with the car.

First, I have to say this place was WEIRD. Part rest stop, part touristy stop, it was full of souvenirs but like, odd ones? The first display when we entered was filled with shirts that had nude cartoon people with suggestive sayings on them. A heck of a choice there, C Ranch. And I have to say, this stop was HUGE. Entire rooms of apparel and souvenirs and foodstuffs. And a bunch of weird coin machines and tchotchkes near the restrooms. If I’m to be honest: I wanted to take in the camera to get some pics, but given the stress with the car trouble it seemed kind of thoughtless to go around getting some funny and ironic photography, so I left it on the floorboard of the car during this part of the whole ordeal. And I’m still a little regretful of that, this place was begging to be photographed for posterity.

Scott said the something-or-another was a bit low (maybe coolant?), but the oil seemed fine and everything else looked okay. I take it from him, he’s the car person. All of that was also concerning to us both, because it meant there was no real answer for us about what was going on and meant we had to get this car looked at ASAP. But again: we’re in the middle of the goddamn desert. We googled and saw there was a Napa Auto Parts in Santa Rosa, so we decided to head out there.

We were ~40 miles from Santa Rosa, the next populated area. Santa Rosa is tiny, and known for the aptly named “Blue Hole”, a strange natural lake that is both teeny in circumference yet intensely deep (it’s a cenote, I found out after googling!). You can swim there, and the water is icy cold (a treat in the desert, I’m sure). It’s used for scuba diving training and legend has it, one of the passages of caverns deep beneath lead to Carlsbad Caverns.

I thought about adding the Blue Hole as a possible stop if we needed to break up the drive, but instead we ended up stopping in Santa Rosa to make sure our rental wasn’t exploding. We white-knuckled it there (even the kids were silent from the backseat, oof), planning to stop at the Napa Auto Parts first. Which was on a random side street in a dusty village. To give some context: Santa Rosa was the only populated area for hours, and it has a whopping 2,500 people. Uh, yeah. So if we weren’t finding it here, our only hope was our destination of Tucumcari, which was another 60 miles east. Eep.

This is the random small-town street the Napa was on. And they had no way to run a diagnostic. But hey, at least we had Fashion Fantasy to depend on. And thankfully: we now had a few bars on our phones, so we fiercely googled for somewhere to get the car looked at. Ortega’s was the clear winner, not only actually open (!!) but highly rated to boot. So off we went across the village.

God bless Ortega’s. Scott seemed skeptical when we drove up, but he hopped out and the staff was happy to take a look and help us out.

A kind man missing a few fingers ran the diagnostic, and told me to take a picture on my phone of the results. We had a misfiring cylinder as the main culprit. After talking for a spell, he told us we’d make it to Tucumcari easy, and encouraged us to talk to the rental agency and set up an appointment with a mechanic from there.

While the shuttering was concerning, we knew this guy had a good handle on things, so followed his advice. The kids, too, seemed comforted to know things weren’t as dire as we originally thought. We drove back through and headed on our way to Tucumcari. What a town, that Santa Rosa. By now I got my courage back with the camera, and took a few shots of the cool buildings on the way out.

Then the long drive to Tucumcari commenced. Weirdly, the shuttering stopped almost immediately. At first we couldn’t believe it, we held our breath for the most part and rarely spoke. I kept wanting to mention that the car seemed to be running well, but felt the moment I spoke it out loud that we’d have issues again and I would have jinxed things. Scottie, it turned out, was feeling the same (he told me later, lol). Anway, after about 15 miles of unremarkable driving, we looked at each other and turned up the radio, counting our blessings. It was a long, looooooong drive, but we eventually made it to Tucumcari (which honestly, kind of felt like cheating fate at that point).

We made it to our hotel, which was the famous Blue Swallow. This was one of the first I booked when we started planning our trip, and is arguably the most famous on Route 66. It’s tiny, but mighty. It opened in the 1930s, an original motor court (and it kept the garages for the rooms, although our compact SUV only fit in halfway, ha). It is the only one that still operates to its original configuration: 12 rooms with garages in two L-shaped wings. The owner met us outside as we pulled up and when he heard we were having car issues, promised to call his mechanic in the morning to look at our car first thing. He then gave us a short tour of the grounds, and checked us into our rooms.

Yes, rooms. Technically, anyway. We booked the only suite on the property, two motel rooms connected by a hallway that included our shared bathroom. Roomy, each section included a sitting area. The boys’ room had a couch that pulled out into a sleeper (which soon-to-be-teen Peter decided would be HIS bed), and the adult room had an original-to-room old oven (there only for decoration) as well as a small desk and closet. Like the teepees: all furniture was original, and linens were lovingly recreated from the originals. This was a gorgeously kept set of rooms.

We got to our room and we all legit collapsed to decompress after that long, stressful day of driving. Pete watched YouTube videos from his couch. Linus watched all the red carpet news on the new Jurassic World movie and then happily watched Jurassic Park (the original from 1993!), which played after the red carpet coverage.

I don’t know what those indented areas were originally meant for, but they perfectly fit modern televisions.

Scott called our rental car agency. He gave them the diagnostic codes, and after discussing it with their mechanics they told us that we were actually fine (?) and the car should easily make it to Oklahoma City, their next big airport with a rental agency (??) and if we still had a “check engine” light by then, we were welcome to switch to a new car if it bothered us (???). Ooooookay, well I guess we trust their judgment… I will admit, that gave both Scottie and me both some welcome relief. Scott celebrated by watching Jurassic Park with Moose while we searched our phones for a dinner spot.

(Here’s a peep at our side of the suite, fyi)

Fun fact! The working phones were a party line for the entire motel, which was how they were originally installed.

I thought the ice buckets were the cutest thing, and then learned they also sold them in the office gift shop. SCORE. When we went to the office the next morning for coffee and granola bars, I saw they were being sold for $50 a pop. Errrr, nevermind I don’t need one. But they sure were cute!

Our hosts recommended Del’s for dinner (which I now recommend to you, because at first it appeared to be a fancy steak house and spendy but looks to be quite normal and cool and vibey now…), but to us, tired and road weary, Lizard Lounge sounded like a better bet for a quiet, dark spot to get some solid grub. So that’s where we ended up.

Lizard Lounge is a little 1950s roadhouse serving the favorites (classic Southwestern fare, yes ma’am). When we got inside we were greeted by a dim but inviting space decorated with several murals and with classic 1960s tunes.

If you look at the image above, you’ll notice in all but one of those booths, they are not filled with people but instead those “seated” are actually part of the murals.

Probably the weirdest part of the murals were in the bar area, which we were seated near. There was a raised stage for bands and a long wall painted with a beach scene, across from the bar area. On the beach were several lizards with human faces, which we quickly realized were of the staff. In one corner there were lizards with blank beige faces (some obviously had a face painted over to be blank again), likely now reserved for future bar staff. Ha.

Our food was fantastic, as usual. We were soon gonna miss the food of this region. One thing I failed to mention until now is that it was customary to order some fried dough at the end of a meal (essentially small bits of Indian fry bread), usually served with a bottle of honey. A regional customary dessert. We never ordered it, but on this night the waitress had an extra order of freshly fried dough, so she brought it to our table with a bottle of honey, free of charge. They were mighty good too, I have to admit.

We rolled ourselves out the door after our meal, and back to the Blue Swallow.

A look at our garage! We had vintage signs, others had full murals. See those bikes? None of the garages have doors, instead the owners park bikes to block the entrance of each garage until a guest checks in, then they guide you to our garage and park the bikes in the back of the garage.

We got the kids settled, then I grabbed my camera to take a walk around the property. As soon as I stepped out, I immediately wished my parents were here to see it. Inky dark with Patsy Cline playing over the outdoor speakers, all lit up in gorgeous buzzing neon, and several other guests outside mingling and enjoying the night. I felt like I stepped back in time.

The area in the picture below was right next to our suite, open to all guests. It included a laundry room, and also held an antique fridge and microwave area.

This was our suite! These are both doors; Scottie and my room was on the left, and the kiddo’s door is on the right.

The picture below was taken from my phone, which is sad because it took no thought whatsoever and yet turned out pretty darn perfectly.

I kept trying to get a good reflection of the sign off the windshield, but eventually gave up because I didn’t have a lens with a wide-enough angle.

Walked a bit down the road and got some of the Teepee Curios neon, too.

Back to the Blue Swallow.

I ran into the owner again, and told him we no longer needed a mechanic and thanked him again. When I got back it was time to coax the kiddos into going to sleep. Moose insisted on Bob joining him.

Pete was happy to sleep not on the actual pull-out sofa, but underneath it. He did this quite a bit in his own bedroom this summer, too. PRE-TEENS ARE WEIRD.

And after settling them in, I went back to our room and my beloved Desert Southwest book. That I finished that night and it felt somehow timely, considering our next day would take us decidedly out of the desert and into the unpredictable Prairies and Ozark areas of middle America.

See y’all again soon, babes.

Day Ten Stats:

The Mileage: 175 miles

The Towns!. Albuquerque, NM to Tucumcari, NM (with an unplanned layover on Santa Rosa)

Dwellings:The Blue Swallow Motel. So worth it, this 1930s motel is clean, gorgeous, and lovingly kept up to its original dwellings. Moreso than others, it’s a VIBE.

Attractions:The National Museum of Nuclear Science, ABQ.

Roadside Oddities: Does random, strange car trouble count?

Meeper Count: Zero today!

Stuff To Do That We Missed: Well, the Blue Hole for sure.  In Albuquerque, there is tons to see and do (I mentioned a few spots up top in this post), so I suggest you spend more time there than us!

Foooooooood: Lunch: Cocina Azul; Dinner: Lizard Lounge.