It’s been a fantasy as long as I can remember – this idea of driving across America on back roads. The picture in my head is that I walk in to a café in a one street town. It has a bench out front and a faded wooden screen door that slaps against its frame before settling back in place. I plop myself down at the counter since all six tables are occupied, and a chunky waitress with seen-it-all eyes and mousy hair wanders over and says, “What’ll it be hon?” I can feel the stares. I’m the only stranger in the place. But by the time I finish my cup of Folgers and lemon meringue pie, I’m yukking it up with Helen and the “boys” two stools down.
Who knows if that version of America even exists any more but I’m about to find out.
I launched yesterday from Littleton, CO where I’d driven on Friday and then spent a delightful weekend with my gracious hosts, Cindy and Richard Cortese in their lovely oasis home. We drank Cosmos and ordered the living room furniture I’d been eyeing for months but didn’t want to buy until I’d sat in it. Cindy left Durango a year ago and it’s the first real chance we’d had to talk – about life, aging, travel, etc. It’s one of those relationships where time between visits is completely irrelevant because we live in each other’s hearts.
So after three wonderful nights’ sleep, I launched my road trip yesterday morning en route to Phillipsburg, KS. I made my way through Denver and its suburbs to route US 36E, which will be my highway of preference for the next few days. It was a wonderful drive. Driving through the plains of Colorado is usually boring – almost stupefyingly so on I-70. But here on this little two laner that runs through a seemingly endless stretch of farm land, it was delightful. I probably saw 10 other cars the entire day. Cloud shapes rose out of the horizons and were as diverse as LA’s population. A few rolling hills and green green green thanks to this summer’s regular rains.
I arrived in Phillipsburg at around 5. It’s an old town of the sort that used to thrive in the Midwest but now hangs on by its fingernails. Red brick streets surround the courthouse and its perfectly manicured lawn but whole blocks of State Street are empty now. The Majestic theater has obviously seen better days but still shows a movie a week.
The “suburbs,” side streets shooting off of State in either direction are lined with nice, albeit small homes in good repair. Their town may have faded but, from the looks of it, their community has not.
The EconoLodge (only hotel in town) was on one end. I parked and walked to the other end of town and back looking for a place to have dinner and maybe a glass of wine. What I found was Stacy’s Café is closed for dinner and the only other options I could find were a Subway and a “Sports Bar” that looked more like the hangout for the hard core than a gathering place for sports enthusiasts. I think the Phillipsburg Panthers are the hot ticket in this town, and the next generation of them were having football practice when I walked by.
So I bought a Subway salad, walked back to the hotel, run by an Indian couple who immigrated to the US 6 years ago, making their way from Amarillo to Phillipsburg along the way. With my pie fantasy unfulfilled, I turned in early, settling for an episode of So You Think You Can Dance before turning in. (Old habits die hard.)
Road Trip 