Big Texan

Dinner at the Big Texan was a "tourist" experience to be remembered. We all gathered at the KOA for our free Limo ride to the restaurant. Please note pic with Limo Bull Horns and real Texas drivers. "Drivers" is what they call 'em in Texas cause they got no cattle "chauffeurs". After arrival we, of course, had to take a few pics of us at the hooves of the big bull, etc. Inside was one room after the other of gifts, stuffed heads, fudge of all kinds and finally a place to eat. We were seated at long tables with cowhide cloths (fake) and began our experience. In the middle of the room was an elevated deck so we could gaze upon those fools who attempted to eat the 72oz steak, shrimp, salad and baked potato (gotta eat it all to win). Two adversaries took their seat and commenced to eat, and eat, and eat, and, oh you know. One fellow was kinda a nondescript skinny one who you figured would fail right off. The other. . . well that was a different story Big Daddy! A huge black guy sporting a tee shirt that said "I Love it When You Call Me Big Daddy." Whoa, this guy just might take the prize, they had 1 hr to do it and you could see the big timer counting down the minutes.

We all ordered our steak and took pictures of the local color. The "Sons of the Pioneers" serenaded us with such oldies as "The Yellow Rose of Texas". They looked liked the last living vets in the US. I did include a picture of the Texan Beer, a yard tall drink. The table behind us was a couple with like 10 kids, half of 'em were black and the other half white. Mamma was pregnant. The only ones drinking the beer were mom and dad. Guess they needed to chill out.

By the time we finished dinner, bought some fudge, and pulled up in front of the KOA, I was ready for bed and Fox was ready to walk. That's how it usually goes with us. Fox got his walk then I turned in for the night.

Oh, Big Daddy didn't make it and neither did Skinny Fellow. Both had to pay $82 for their 72oz failure.

A Day in Amarillo

Last night we met the Route 66 group, 12 of us in all. Folks are from all over, VA, WA, CA, TX and Indiana. Lane, who put the tour together, brought along his 15 yr. old grandson, Matthew, a really nice kid. Most of us did our own thing on Saturday and joined up again Sat night to go to dinner.

I took a drive out to the long ago closed air force base where we used to live. What do ya know, I managed to find the house (note pic). Driving through base housing I remembered houses of high school buddies. Most of the places were in ill repair with unkept lawns. One nice thing, the trees were huge. No more golf course, it was left to go to weeds with piled up junk next to what might have been the club house. Most all of the buildings on the base were gone. Just rows of trees and overgrown sidewalks to suggest people once walked there. I remember how I could see the big tails of the B-52s towering over everything else on the base. . . all gone. The pool still had the white wooden fence around it but the white had long ago turned to black. I felt I was looking out on a town that had been blown away by the bombs the big planes carried. Very sad for me.

From there I took a ride through town on Polk Street, a favorite place for teenagers to cruise on Sat. night just to see who was out and about. I remember those nights well. There was the Paramount Theater where I hid my face through most of Psycho in 1960. I never did recover from that. Parts of Polk are still cobbled but the whole area was for the most part deserted. On a lovely Sat morning no one was cruising Polk but me.

Driving down Amarillo Blvd. I could see the buildings along old route 66. Many of them were recognizable and many had new Mexican and Asian names. Still not the best part of town, just like in the 60s. I passed Toad Hall off Western ST where Stanley Marsh lives on his ranch. His famous Cadillac Ranch has been moved and we'll swing by there on our way out of Amarillo tomorrow. I drive out Western and remember more times . . . specifically, one time when Clay was in Viet Nam and the kids and I were visiting Mom and Dad. I had some kind of infection and was really sick with a high fever. Mom took me to the Doc and on the way home she stopped at the grocery store to fill my prescription. It was in July and hot and I was burning up. I remember thinking that a butter pecan ice cream cone would really be good. And what do ya know, mom walks out, gets in the car and hands me a butter pecan ice cream cone. She said, "Here, I thought you could use this."

Tonight we go to dinner, of course, it's the Big Texan!

Amarillo by Friday

The Fox and I left for Amarillo Friday, May 28th to join the Casita Route 66 Group. Needless to say we didn't pull out at 6am as anticipated, although, three hrs later wasn't too much of a delay. Our route took us down I25 to Raton then 87 into Dalhart. From there I hooked into Boy's Ranch Road (County Rd 1601). Well, that was nostalgic to say the least. All the way through NM my mind was flooded with memories of long ago when me, and the kids would stop on our way to Canyon at the Hi Ho Cafe in Clayton and have a piece of homemade pie. We always looked forward to that stop and then getting to Boy's Ranch Road and closer to Mom and Dad's. This time the Canadian River actually had red water in it. The red is not unusual but the fact there was water is. We left the flat planes of Dalhart for the gentle slop of new arroyos close to Boy's Ranch. Thirty-six miles to Amarillo. I remember that drive seemed so long 50 yrs ago when I was a senior in high school.

The yucca was blooming and nearly covered every sq inch of ground. So many wild flowers. Yucca is not a good thing on a ranch. . . that means the country has been overgrazed by cattle. Coming into Amarillo nice homes were built on both sides of the road, something that didn't exist in the early days. You could see Amarillo off in the distance. . . 4 - 5 skyscrapers. That sight used to be so exciting for us. I remember we used to stop at Stucky's on HWY 27 to use their phone to call mom and dad so they would meet us at the Palo Duro Club gate and let us in.

Arriving there after a long drive from Denver we would sit in the "air conditioned" house having a drink while the kids checked the creek and water depth at the first and second crossings. They loved it there. So did I, it was like an escape to another time and place for me, all my problems seemed to melt away. Maybe that's because it was home to me. The reference to "air conditioned" was the memory of my Dad trying in vain to keep the double A Frame cool in the summer. One visit we pulled up to see a water sprinkler on the roof fanning back and forth to keep the house cool. My Dad had one goal that I'll never forget, keeping the inside of whatever house we lived in cool. Once, I came home from high school and the refrigerator was in the dinning room, door open, freezer door open with a fan sitting in front of it. He was always saying "shut the door and don't let the hot air in".

This time we were headed to the KOA campgrounds on the northwest side of Amarillo right off of Amarillo Blvd which used to be Route 66. I was amazed when I merged onto Loop 335 to skirt the city on the way north. Wow, how time changed things. It was good to get there. I was tired of driving and ready to rest up and meet the folks in our group. 85 degrees, oh yes, oh yes! Finally, a touch of summer weather. Better not be too grateful because I remember how hot and windy it can get here.