Amarillo By Evening

The world outside the 50 states is a dangerous place.  Terrorists have committed multiple atrocities in England, France, Belgium, and Germany in the last few years.  Political instability and rioting has rocked South American countries like Venezuela and Brazil.  There are even concerns that American tourists have been drugged at all-inclusive resorts across the border in Mexico.  So when it was time for The Wife and I to decide on our next family vacation after a year-long respite, did we take these global issues into consideration?  Hell no!   The Wife and I just decided that The Kids were the right age for a road trip across the Southwest United States.

Back in the 1980’s, practically every family I knew crammed into their wood-paneled station wagons for 2 weeks and did their best impression of the Griswolds.  Mine was no different.  The Wife’s family did it too.  Luckily, neither of us had a Cousin Eddie.  We thought it was important that The Kids experience their share of backseat boredom as well.  Besides, it would allow us a chance to visit several of the kitschy locations that dotted the American heartland along Interstate 40 and historical Route 66.

Our main goal was to visit as many National Parks that we could.  The U.S. National Parks system has a problem with age.  The mean age of a visitor to a National Park is well above 50.  Young people are too tied up in their electronics and gadgets to make it to the great outdoors.  Young Americans need to experience the natural splendors protected by the National Parks Service.  In turn these wonders would hopefully inspire them to be responsible in maintaining them for future generations as well.  Since The Girl had just finished 4^th grade, we were eligible for the Every Kid In A Park initiative.  This would save us $180 in admission fees to the eight parks that we planned on visiting (alternatively, a year-long pass to all parks can be purchased to $80).

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Friday, July 21, 2017

We set out early for our 10 hour drive to Amarillo, TX.  To break up the monotony of the drive we planned on stopping at any location close to the highway that sounded even remotely interesting.  Unfortunately, our first stop at Toad Suck, Arkansas was a total dud.  It had gained notoriety a few years ago from a poll that called it the most unfortunate named town in America.  Otherwise from that, there was absolutely nothing there except for a convenience store and a couple of storage buildings.  We all wished we could have the 30 minutes of our lives back that this detour had taken.

Strangely, we saw no toads.  Just a whole lot of sucking.

The drive through Oklahoma was uneventful and boring, mainly because I slept through most of it.  As we passed into Texas and neared Amarillo, we began to encounter some of the oddities notable for Route 66.

About the only interesting thing that we
encountered in Oklahoma was these teepee-
shaped picnic benches at the rest area.

The "Leaning Tower of Texas" was just a marketing ploy to get people to stop at Groom,TX.  The
owner hoped it would catch the eye of motorists so that they would stop at the nearby truck stop. 

East Texas is so flat and monotonous--perfect for the plethora of windmills that dotted the landscape.

Whenever I told anybody that I would be driving to Amarillo, the first thing they would always ask is “Are you going to the Big Texan?”  Of course we would.  Its reputation is built on the 72 oz steak challenge—eating that huge piece of beef, two sides, and a roll in under an hour to get the meal free and eternal bragging rights.  As much as I wanted to participate, The Wife shot this idea down.  The last thing she wanted was for me to be in a food coma for the next several days, making her do all the driving. 

Even at 5:30 PM, the restaurant and adjacent parking lot were packed.

Just in case visitors missed the hundreds of
billboard signs off the highways advertising for
the Big Texan, this display informed visitors
what the restaurant is famous for.

There is no doubt that the interior of The Big Texan was designed by somebody with ADD.  The establishment is filled with a whole lot of random stuff inside as well as a gift store full of odds and ends.

The Girl failed at making new friends.  Perhaps there was a language barrier as they were quite taciturn.

The Girl tries on a 20 gallon hat.

Hollywood films often get it wrong.  Bad guys often wore pink cowboy hats.

There were a couple of cheesy games to pass the time while patrons waited for their tables.

I wished for Zoltar to make my penis "Big."
He turned my schlong into Forrest Gump.
Stupid is as stupid does.

The restaurant was decorated with a kitschy Western theme.

The Big Texan wasn’t just décor only, the steaks were actually well-cooked and the portions were gut-busting.

Does it make me gay that I enjoyed eating the Rocky Mountain oysters?

A kid's-sized order of chicken fried steak served in a souvenir hat.

Chicken fried steak with a ton of gravy

The Big Texan strip steak

A 16 oz, bone-in "The Duke's Cut" ribeye

While we were there, only one patron was man-enough to sit on the stage
and try the 72 oz Big Texan Steak Challenge.  He failed miserably.

Afterwards, we headed out to the outskirts of town to visit the Cadillac Ranch.  Back in 1974, the late millionaire Stanley Marsh commissioned a work of “art” comprised of ten Cadillacs buried head-first into the ground.  Since then, people have placed their personal stamps on these vehicles with spray paint.  We brought some cans, leftover from various school projects, and took our turns at being graffiti artists.

After a couple of decades of being decorated, these cars are likely more paint than metal.

The Girl struggles to work the spray can.

The Boy enjoys drawing graffiti without being arrested.

As a patriotic American, I left a testimony to our great country.

Later that night we stayed at the newly built Springhill Suites.  Our stay didn’t start out well, as the room they initially gave us hadn’t been cleaned yet.  The beds had yet to be made, the old, dirty sheets were still on the floor, and the previous-occupant's towels hadn't been changed.  I swear I even saw pubic hairs in the sink.  Fortunately, the hotel staff were very accommodating.  We were quickly given a new, cleaned room and had a restful night.