Close enough to the Grand Canyon, Just Wait a Meteor Crater, and Hopi You Aren't Looking for Cola Gummies Here

By the middle of the day, we had gone as far as Williams.  The town is a pleasant and vibrant community full of old shops and horse drawn carriages.  It relies on overnighter tourists headed to the Grand Canyon.  If we hadn’t been delayed with car trouble in Needles, we would have stayed at the Westerner Motor Inn to spend at day at the park. Instead, we urgently needed to get to West Virginia so that we'd have some time to settle before Graduate orientation. Passing through will have to do.

The Grand Canyon Railway takes passengers from Williams up to the rim.  This train is not for us.

Time to fill our thirsty wagon.

Handpainted ice storage, Tiffany's Italian shop, pizza and cocktails.

This old gas station has pumps so old, they're analog!

We pulled up into the “self” side on a pair of analog pumps.  Although we were pretty sure we remember how to use them, a surly station keep emerged.  “What’chu want, boy?”  It was the sort of broad-syllable backroad bellow you might hear clichéd in a tv show.  It instantly makes you want to man up and grow some chest hair for a response with some gusto.  He pumps some regular for thirty dollars square and won’t take a tip.

Sultana Cocktails are not to be confused with Tiffany's Cocktails.

McDonald’s quickly became the crucial pinpoint of many of our legs.  We stopped for the free wi-fi, booked our next room in Albuquerque, briefly checked our email, and left with a blue Powerade, a tiny pocket of fries, and an Olympian Spongebob toy.  David requested the toy with the barbell made of two small marshmallows and a pretzel rod.  When you turn the knob, it shakes.  It seems to be the perfect toy for his desk-to-be in WV – the sort of example-setter you want to have between a youth and a seasoned sage.

The sun was setting and we cruised past Flagstaff, headed for Meteor Crater outside of Winslow.  The night sky was vast and unspoiled by any lights from townships. A large thunderstorm storm ambled somewhere hundreds of miles ahead of us in the dark.  Each streak of lightning lit up the horizon and made our eyes widen with wonder.  Once we found our exit for Meteor Crater, we took the road signs' advice and tuned in to Meteor Crater Radio.  50,000 years old, 550 feet deep, 2.4 miles in circumference, touted as the best preserved meteorite crater on Earth - in the middle of nowhere.  Enticing us with information on tours, history, and camping opportunities, we kept heading towards the crater in spite of all the signs saying "closed at sunset".  Alas, we drove up to find the crater fenced off and the visitor center shuttered.  Not even a glimpse of the giant crater could be had by us adventure seekers.  So much for roadside wonders.

The rest of the road took us through a vast expanse of Native American land on the way to New Mexico.  We stopped at the Hopi Travel plaza, mostly because we had never been to one before.

The Hopi Travel plaza has a theater, a gift shop, a snack stand and many food kiosks, a knife shop, and the "Our Hairitage Salon."

A concerted effort in multiple signage directs patrons toward the men's washroom.

Would have been a good idea if we were coming back this way.

Mural in bathroom corridor.

By then, Amy had a simmering craving for Haribo Happy Cola gummis, with the last bag polished off in Needles.  We convinced a clerk at the snack stand that the exotic and elusive gummi treats were worth seeking, but were told that the only gummis on the floor are those manufactured by the Trolli empire: Sour Patch Kids and Neon Gummi Worms.  The clerk also advised us which Double Shot Energy drink might best suit our needs, and we stocked up on Cool Blue Gatorade.

Back on the road again and fully caffeinated, David takes the final leg to Albuquerque.