Day 06.5: An Incident Outside Gallup

A while ago, I remarked how strange it was that my digestive issues seem to have fixed themselves on the road. That streak ended the middle of Night 06. I awoke with sudden stabbing abdominal cramps. Too much dairy? Sugar? The spicy jerky I'd nibbled that afternoon? I'm still not sure what it was that sent me stumbling into the scrub that night, toilet paper in one hand, flashlight in the other, naked from the waist down save a pair of slip-on shoes. No need to thank me for that image.

Surprisingly, once I fell back asleep, I stayed asleep, and felt reasonably OK the next morning.

Day 07: New Mexico, Arizona; 403 Miles

I drove into the city for breakfast. West Coal Avenue runs through a part of Gallup straight out of Touch of Evil. It's quiet, with pristine concrete streets between mission-style buildings finished in stucco. Murals adorn some of the businesses across from Gallup Coffee Company.



Gallup, New Mexico: city street; Gallup Coffee Company

Inside, the shop exudes warmth and cleanliness without feeling sterile. White walls, honey-yellow wood trim and furniture. A large cement block occupies the center of the space. A century ago, this location served as a bank. The vault remains, though one assumes its purpose is largely decorative today.

Breakfast was a slice of housemade coffeecake and my usual oatmilk latte. The coffeecake was perfect – light in texture, the flavors of spices and sugar well-balanced. The latte was mediocre, tasting darker than most I've had. Whatever oatmilk they use seemed rather sludgy, though I also let the drink sit a while before drinking, which could have been part of the issue.

Heading south through Arizona, I made a New Englander's mistake. Signs told me I was approaching the Painted Desert and Petrified Forest National Park. I'd intended to hit them a few days later, on the way to Utah. But how much of a detour could they be? I envisioned a quick hour's diversion, then back on the road to Tucson. Three hours later, I emerged in a state of quasi-religious ecstasy. Had I thought the Continental Divide majestic? With apologies to New Mexico, it had nothing on this. Every bend in the road, every scenic overlook, was a new revelation. I ended up rushing through the last few stops, keenly aware of the day slipping away from me. I vowed to make a second trip before I left Arizona.




Painted Desert and Petrified Forest, AZ.

Route 60 proved another mind-altering experience. The highway zigzags through Apache-Sitgreaves National Forests, winding over mountains and alongside jaw-dropping canyons. Regrettably, there few places to pull over and take photos. All I could do was let the awe wash over me, and drive on. Arizona's landscape is God's apology for not existing.


Two picturesque views off Route 60.

Her temperatures, meanwhile, remind us that “I'm sorry” can only get you so far. The thermometer climbed through the 80s as I moved further south.

I came down from the mountains and onto Route 77. As I passed a state trooper running his radar, I realized I had no idea what the speed limit was here. My Vermonter instincts took over, and I slowed to 50mph. The cruiser pulled out behind me. A few moments later, on went the lights.

I was, you see, traveling at 15 miles per hour below the speed limit. The trooper was very kind about the whole situation, but he said he did have to write me out a warning ticket for “impeding the flow of traffic.” Fair enough. Still, my hands kept shaking long after we'd both driven on. One hears so many stories of escalating misunderstandings these days. And I've got miles and miles to go yet. Best to stay out of the hoosegow if I can.

Predictably, I hit Tucson just as rush hour was beginning. I still made it to my destination in time for dinner – a suburban neighborhood where my eldest niece lives with her growing family. Row upon row of identical stucco houses in shades of umber, sienna, ocher.

We hadn't seen each other in about a decade. We did our best to catch up, talking of my trip down, her job, the ways in which she and her husband are trying to mindfully raise their two year old son. We went through the usual armchair psychologist routine with other family members. Like you do. I did some much needed laundry, we ate dinner, we went to bed. Tomorrow, more mistakes would be made, more adventures would be had. But for tonight, it was good to be off the road, to see this little family working every day to be just a little bit better. It was a damn good way to end the day.

Next up - the Grand Canyon trip. Flagstaff. And...?

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