A Walk Through Time

October 13th

My hip belt arrived. It was delivered to a different motel with a completely different name, but what is life without a little mystery?

I put on the new belt and was off around 11:00. My route would take me along old Route 66 through Grants, then through some sparse neighborhoods, up through a historic canyon, then south through a quiet canyon.

A new interstate goes around Grants. However, Grants most recently grew along Route 66. As a result, traffic bypasses Grants and the town is dying, or at least resizing.

Walking along the old Route is like walking through a business cemetery. Car dealers, small automotive repair shops, small grocery and appliance stores all shuttered. It made me realize how much cars have changed just in my life tinme. It used to be cars broke down all the time and people always sought an honest mechanic. Now, the car dealers have tied up warranties and service, the niche shops grab standard services (think Jiffy Lube), and big boxes grab chunks of business (I buy my tires at Costco). However, the fact is that cars are also so much better now. Growing up, I can remember knowing which cars were bad based on how often they were stranded on the highway.

The only thriving businesses in Grants, besides the prisons, are payday loans and fast food joints. I hope the town survives.

In case you are wondering about my physical well being, I received some objective feedback. In the middle of town, there is a park and at one there is an old building where the homeless and/or drunk people gather. When I walked past, I received a heart-warming welcome. I looked like one of their own and they were waving me over. Yes, I belong.

I finally exited Grants, crossed over the interstate, and worked my way up to the Zuni Canyon. An auto tour had been implemented to help drivers see the role this canyon played in transporting lumber from the local mountains down to sawmills in Albuquerque.

It was a hot day and the road, once it left neighborhoods, turned to gravel. Dusty gravel. If you every drive a dusty road, slow down for people walking. I concluded there is a special section in hell for drivers who don’t. They prefer to fling gravel and maintain a dust cloud reminiscent of the plume from an erupting volcano.

Entering the canyon. Note the gravel road.

The gouge in the cliff was where logs were lowered from the mesa to the railroad

Around 3:00, I finally peeled off the gravel round to a less traveled road. It rolled gently through ponderosa pines. It was quiet and cool. I saw my first tarantula. It was very cool to see although not quite as big as I had imagined.