It was a
dark and stormy night. Really. And the sky turned white in the middle
of the night, just like in Captain Beefheart's “The Floppy Boot Stomp.”
Emily and I had booked this getaway a while back, and it came just as
the presidential race was getting tight and scary. Outrageous weather
was a relief.
The next
morning, there were problems with my Chicanonautica post getting up
on La Bloga. Or maybe it was just me tripping on Google's security
protocols. One way or another, it went up just before we left the
motel, into the rain, for a rock 'n' roll breakfast at the Galaxy
Diner.
Outside
Flagstaff, there was a hand-painted sign: TRUMP! SAVE THE U.S.A.
We took
a walk through the lava around Sunset Crater, enjoying the eerie
beauty.
Stopped
by Walnut Canyon, walked a trail we've never been down before, with
more Sinagua ruins.
Strolled through downtown Flagstaff and got red
mud on El Troque's tires. Had an early dinner at Dara Thai.
The next
day, steam rose from piles of logs at the side of the road. There
ware patches of snow, too. Em told me that there was snow on El
Troque in the morning.
While
waiting to be seated for breakfast at the Coffee Pot in Sedona, I saw
a young guy in an NRA T-shirt, and an old man with scabs around one
eye.
I took
pictures of some Kandinskyoid Indian art – one that was signed with
glyph-like symbols, the word HOPI, and the copyright sign. And the
men's room had gone 21st century with waterless urinals
and air blade hand dryers.
After
some aimless driving through the spectacular Oak Creek Canyon, we
hiked for about an hour in Red Rock State Park. Red mud on our shoes
makes us happy.
Then we
took the 89A to Cottonwood – which is colorful, and hippie-dippy,
and worthy of further investigation – and stopped at Adventures
Unlimited Books, where I bought The Lost Tribe of Coney Island
by Claire Prentice.
There
were political signs in Jerome: WE LOVE BERNIE, BUT WILL VOTE FOR
HILLARY and WE SUPPORT HILLARY, so big it went all the way across the
front of a house.
In
Prescott, where Trump would be holding a massive rally soon, we ate
tacos and carnitas at El Charro, on Montezuma Street, while the the
music of Johnny Cash and Willie Nelson played overhead.
We left
into a downpour. There were scattered downpours all the way home.
In
memory of Søren Heinecke, who enjoyed these little travelogues.
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