After we left Flagstaff we headed east. Our first stop was
the Meteor Crater near Winslow. Now for those of you who don’t know, this is
the world’s best preserved meteorite impact site on Earth. For one, it’s a
fairly young impact site, and two, it is on private land. It is not protected
as a National Monument because it’s not federally owned but, it is designated a
National Natural Landmark. The upside is it makes money and they pay taxes
which suits the government just nicely because most national parks are money
pits.
In 1903 Daniel Barringer purchased the land on the
assumption it was an impact site and thought he could mine it. Up to that
point, geologists thought the hole was a result of a volcanic steam explosion.
Barringer mined for years but never found any ore. Everyone thought that the meteorite
would be buried deep in the soil, but we learned from the guide that meteorites
vaporizes on impact. What amazes me, it wasn’t until 1960 that geologist
finally confirmed Barringer’s hypothesis that it was in fact a meteor crater
and not caused by volcano activity.
One thing that does run through your mind during the tour is why haven’t we had impacts like this in recent years? It kinds gives you the same willies you get when you start watching the doomsday shows on the Science Channel.
The size of this thing is really hard to gage while looking
from the rim until the guide told us the little BBQ looking thing at the bottom
is really a 3-story tall generator! Yeah, it’s that big. In the 1960s NASA
astronauts trained there in preparation for the moon landing. The area where
they worked looks like a spec at the bottom. Like I said, you really can’t gage
the size of this because its’ just so damn big.
The guide told us before we went out that it gets very windy
on the rim, they’ve clocked hurricane strength winds up there. That day it was gusty
but not too bad. You will note that my trusty $100 hat withstood all that the
wind had to give! I’m really beginning to love that hat.
We were going to Winslow next to pay our respects to Glenn
Fry but we missed the exit. Not just missed it, we were practically in New
Mexico before we realized we had gone too far. So we decided to go to the
Petrified Forrest National Park and Painted Desert. One runs into the other so
it’s a 2-fer day. We got off the highway at the designated exit for the
Petrified Forest and it took us down a two-lane road that went on for miles.
Very straight and flat miles that stretched on forever. Where the hell is this
place? Then halleluiah, there was the sign! Petrified Forest turn left here,
conveniently right in front of a store that sold petrified wood. I somehow get
the feeling there’s a kick-back somewhere; that the store had something to do
with the exit being so far away because by the time you got to the turn you had
to go to the washroom. So we stopped.
After our pit stop we drove to the park. The sign at the
gate said drive through, we’ll collect the fee at the other end of the park.
Oh, but what if we turned around? Hmm, didn’t think of that did you Mr. Park
Ranger? We got to the visitor’s center and I was thinking, is this it? Where’s
the forest? Silly me was thinking the petrified trees would be standing up. No,
they were on the ground in pieces, and people were walking around looking at
them—all of them, every little stick. I have to say that I became bored pretty quick.
They all looked the same to me, it was like looking at little rocks on the
beach one at a time. I couldn’t even get a decent photo because they just all
looked the same, round and brown. I forgot to add that there was a sign at the entrance
that said it was a crime to pick up any souvenirs (like I would want to).
Beside we had one at home already, thanks to Bruce’s grandfather. Apparently
back in the 1960s there were no rules about filching a few rocks which is
probably why they have the sign now. Considering you could buy one down the
road for a few bucks I don’t see why people would.
So we hopped back in the car and drove through the painted
desert. It’s very pretty but again, after a while they all started looking the
same. I did take a lot more photos than I did of the “trees.” I did see a pair
of buzzards up close—not because I was dying of boredom. They were flying in
front of me while I was standing on the side of the road. I tried to take a
photo of them but they were just specks in the sky. They have beautiful white under
feathers, but the ugliest faces that only a mother would love, a blind mother
that is.
After driving through, we were back on the highway and
heading west to Winslow. Oh, almost forgot, at the other end of the park where
we were supposed to pay, there was no one at the gate and a sign that said “thank
you for visiting.” No wonder the national parks are losing money!
It actually worked out quite well, missing the stop, because
we ended up going in a nice circle and from Winslow we could go straight up
north to Monument Valley. Oh, wait till you hear that story.
We arrived in Winslow, and there was the corner. Actually
that’s about all it seems there is to Winslow. It’s not a very large town. We
took the obligatory photos of the corner, including one of Bruce standing on
the corner. He was so cute. Then we went into the store across the street
called Standing on the Corner.
Bruce and I are shopping and I overhear this conversation between
a customer and the woman behind the counter. The customer commented that the song
says standing on a corner, not the corner as the store implied. The
woman behind the counter was amazed; “I never noticed that” she said. Meanwhile,
they are playing every Eagles song known to man over the music system. Exactly
how many times has she heard that song? Personally, as much as I love the
Eagles, if I was working at a place that played nothing but them all day, every
day, I’d probably take a hatchet to the next customer that said “a corner” not “the
corner.”
Here’s the other funny thing that happened in that store.
They had a large selection of military items, so we bought a few Navy and
Marine Corps stuff. When we got to the counter I got out my wallet to pay. She
asked if we were military because they give discounts to military. I said yes,
we both are and I showed her my ID. She looked straight at Bruce and said “thank
you for your service.” I kid you not. Hellooooo, veteran here too, you know, the woman.
After than we went to a little restaurant across the street
for a bite before we hit the road. We had asked the store clerk where is a good
place to eat and after we discovered it’s the only place to eat. The lady that
was running the place was from Charlotte, NC. She had moved to Winslow to be
with her son who owned the store. She used to be a school teacher in Charlotte.
I don’t know how many years she had been in Winslow but she sounded like she
just got off the boat. Wow, that was quite the Southern twang that I hadn’t
heard for years. And, it typical Southern-style we became long lost family and
had to promise that we’d come back to visit soon.
Well, that’s end this little leg of the vacation. On to
Monument Valley.
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