Day Four: Albuquerque to Colorado Springs

Fact: I don’t like the heat. Yesterday when we rolled into town, it was 94 degrees, but after experiencing 97 degrees of high humidity in Memphis, I can finally say that I appreciate the difference in dry heat. Yesterday’s high temps felt downright pleasant and when the sun went down it was almost too chilly to swim. After one of the most spectacular sunsets I’ve ever seen, I am sold on New Mexico!

We took a pause on heading west and turned north toward Colorado.

Our first stop was Santa Fe. (After backtracking a few miles when we missed the turnoff.) Santa Fe is one of the oldest cities in the country, with strict building codes that mandate everything be built in the adobe mission style. There were shops and art museums aplenty downtown, but of course we had no time to see them.

Back on the road, we headed to Vegas. (Not that one. New Mexico has its own version.) We ate at a food truck called Skillet.

Between New Mexico and Colorado, the terrain vacillated from mountains to flatlands and back again. Finally, we arrived.

Our first stop in Colorado Springs was Focus on the Family. Let me just say that even if you’re not a fan of the radio program, the kids’ play area was AMAZING and a must stop if you have children under the age of 12. Unfortunately we only had ten minutes because they closed at five. (Time, our archenemy, strikes again.)

Since none of us was super hungry, we headed for Garbanzo—a Denver chain that’s the Chipotle of Mediterranean food.

But even if you’re not hungry, there’s always room for dessert.

We drove through a neighborhood where deer strolled casually on the sidewalks.

*Side note about Colorado: It’s the fittest state and you can feel it. There are no fatties here and everyone walks and bikes seemingly constantly.

To wind up the evening, we headed to Garden of the Gods, a red rock formation that springs up in the middle of green mountains. It’s almost indescribably beautiful. And, being Colorado, there were people climbing them. It was the perfect benediction to a long another long day of travel.

Day Three: Oklahoma City to Albuquerque

Two things happened in Oklahoma City:

1. We didn’t eat doughnuts.
2. We met up with Route 66

But before we were on our way, we visited our alma mater’s sister school in Bethany, which was coincidentally across the street from our hotel. Hi, SNU!

It was a long drive to the Texas border, but at least the landscape was more interesting than some other places we’ve been. (I’m looking at you, Arkansas.) The rest stop in Texas was huge and beautiful with views like this:

Unfortunately it also appeared to have the world’s supply of cockroaches and this:

(In case you can’t read it, there are rattlesnakes. At the rest area. Right next to the playground.)

An hour later, we paused on historic Route 66 in Amarillo for refreshment.

Cowboy Gelato had awesome gelato with homemade waffle cones. (Homemade waffle cones are one of the hallmarks of a good ice cream place, in my opinion.)

If you go, I would think twice about ordering anything other than gelato. On the day we went, they seemed to be short-staffed and our takeout chicken salad ended up taking almost a half an hour, putting a time crunch on our already tight schedule.

On the way out of Amarillo, we stopped here, the iconic Cadillac Ranch.

It’s a bit underwhelming unless you get out of the car and hike up close. This guy looked better.

West out of Amarillo was flattened cow country. There were cows and windmills and not much else, but it was pretty. Moving into New Mexico, the terrain was more lush than I expected, but that soon gave way to scrub and sagebrush. (But still interesting and pretty.) The terrain began to get rockier, and the rocks bigger, until we realized we were in the Rockies. Since we arrived in Albuquerque on a Sunday, many things were closed. We ended up eating at the Frontier, an iconic Albuquerque establishment with cafeteria-style New Mexican cuisine, also famous for their cinnamon rolls.

There’s no doubting we’re officially in the west now. We headed downtown to Oldtown Albuquerque, the picturesque portion of historic Albuquerque.

Not only were people out walking their dogs, having picnics, and cruising with their restored classic cars, but the Tango club was dancing in the gazebo.

I wonder what the first rule of Tango Club is? They’re probably not allowed to tell me.

Day Two: Memphis to Oklahoma City

I have this problem. I’m easily swayed by a restaurant that claims to be “The BEST” of something.

On a normal day, I don’t eat doughnuts. In fact, I rarely to never eat them. But this morning makes the fourth time I’ve had them this week. When on vacation, everyone has to make sacrifices. This is my burden to bear. You gotta do what you gotta do. And since Alton Brown recently named Gibson’s Donuts in Memphis the best doughnuts in the country, you can see that I had to try them. It’s practically the law.

Were they the best I’ve ever tried? Well, no. That honor still belongs to Schuler’s, my hometown bakery in Springfield, Ohio. But they were good and fresh and cheap.

Properly fortified, we exited Memphis, crossed the Mississippi, and were officially WEST. We were also in Arkansas.

After the pleasant surprise Memphis turned out to be, I had high hopes for Arkansas. Yes, I certainly had high hopes for Arkansas. <crickets>

Little Rock proved more promising. Famished from two hours of driving, we pulled into the Root Café for second breakfast.

The food is my favorite kind—made from scratch and locally sourced. And they had an outdoor play area for the kids.

At the end of Arkansas is Fort Smith, a historic Western town with an awesome play area for kids. The rides are only a dollar and include a carousel and Ferris wheel. There’s also a splash pad and park across the street. As always, we didn’t have nearly enough time to explore, but it made a nice break before we entered Oklahoma.

Eastern Oklahoma was a lot like Eastern Arkansas, a bit monotonous. The only thing around for miles is livestock. Seriously, we saw a cow trying to cross the interstate. So when you see the sign for the city limits of Oklahoma City, you feel pretty excited. But then, wait for it, the actual city doesn’t start for another thirty miles.

Oklahoma City is known for onion burgers, grilled meat in a pile of diced onions. (Think White Castle but edible and made of actual beef.) In our quest to eat regional food, we searched for the best onion burger and found a pretty good example at S & B’s burgers. (Again no pictures, but when your hungry baby is screaming blue bloody murder, the last thing you think of is whipping out a camera and snapping a photo.)

After food, we cruised through Bricktown, Oklahoma City’s answer to the San Antonio Riverwalk.

It’s a revamped section of old buildings now filled with art, shopping, parks, and restaurants.

It’s also another example of something we would love to have explored, if we had more time. You can walk, take a carriage ride or, if you have good balance, try your luck at a Segue tour.

As for us, we went to the hotel to swim and try to get a quality night’s sleep. As a side note, I’ve come to believe that the reason the pioneers only lived to their mid thirties was because they shared a room with their children. Just saying.

Day One: Go West, Young Woman! (Pigeon Forge to Memphis)

There was a time after the birth of our first child when finances were too tight to vacation. This period of time helped me relate uniquely to Fantine in Les Miserables when she sang about tigers eating her dreams in the night. Four years later, we had finally saved enough to take a road trip along the Pacific Coast Highway. Vacationing again after so long made us remember how much we love to travel. We vowed to never go without a vacation again.

The year after our Pacific Highway adventure, we took another trip across the country to Seattle and cruised to Alaska. We began to debate where to go next when–surprise!–we found out we were expecting another baby. As any mother knows, having a baby is exactly like taking a vacation. Except not at all. Last summer our son was born and, instead of visiting new locations and eating out, we went for days without sleep and ate freezer burnt casseroles. It was a magical time.

After a long, dreary winter that felt like it might never end, we were ready to travel again. And after such an adventurous, life-altering year, there was only one place to go–we needed to embrace our manifest destiny and head west.

After riding in the car peacefully and happily for hours, our baby decided to sing us the song of his people for an hour in the night. We fortified ourselves with coffee and a healthy breakfast (read: doughnuts) and set forth to start our journey. We began from my parents’ house outside of Pigeon Forge, both because it was convenient and because my parents are joining us for the journey. (It sounded like a good idea to them before they realized the baby is in a screaming phase. He sounds like one of the ringwraiths from The Lord of the Rings. It’s the worst sound in the world  adorable.)

The first thing you should know before we begin is that food is the first thing. Vacation for our family is basically an opportunity to eat food in different locations. Keeping with tradition, we diverted almost immediately in search of gourmet Popsicles. Not only are 2500 people moving to Nashville per week, but it’s home to a booming food scene. Were these gourmet Popsicles worth getting off the interstate and waiting fifteen minutes for the store to open?

Yes, yes they were.

Refreshed and energized, we again headed west on the Music Highway toward Memphis. When in Memphis, there’s really only one thing to do, one famous thing that people from all over the world come to pay homage to. Of course I mean BBQ.

I forgot to take a picture of our food because hungry. But it was good. (Side note: trying to find the best BBQ in Memphis is apparently like trying to pick a good doctor. Everyone has an opinion based on personal preference. Then you’re always left wondering if there’s something better out there. If you choose this one, and I think that you should, go early because the lines get long and the seating area crowded.)

In addition to BBQ, Memphis is also known for some guy who used to sing some songs. I don’t know much about him because I’m very, very young. (The closer you get to 40, the more you have to reiterate this point. Young, very, very young.) But he seemed like a good guy, so we though we would give his house a try.

Do you need to be a die-hard fan to go to Graceland when it’s 97 degrees with one thousand percent humidity? No, but it might help you to not complain about the long lines and masses of people everywhere. The house itself is smaller than you might think. The actual mansion tour is about an hour long, maybe less. What takes forever is buying tickets and boarding the shuttle to the house. (Parking and tickets are across the street from the actual mansion.) As a bonus, we scored a free ticket because my husband is a teacher and teachers are always getting kickbacks and payola like that. It’s why people envy them–for the massive job perks. (Side note to fellow teachers: If you are planning to go, contact Graceland and reserve your ticket at least 14 days in advance.)

I dare you to go to Graceland and not leave feeling a little bit sad, even if, like me, you’re way, way, way too young to remember Elvis personally. Maybe it’s because you realize he died too young and was a talent wasted by poor choices. Or maybe it’s because the last thing you see before you board the shuttle is Elvis’s grave. I guess we’ll never know.

For posterity, here’s Elvis’s kitchen.

I think he and I could have had some good talks about food. Possibly while eating something fried.

At this point I must insert what a pleasant surprise Memphis has turned out to be. Before our arrival, I had heard rumors that it was basically the armpit of Tennessee, but that’s not true! There are stately homes and old, gracious buildings everywhere. It’s clean and friendly and there’s FOOD. We passed so many restaurants that I would love to try, if only we had the time.

Time, always our enemy when road tripping, prevented us from exploring Beale Street. We drove by and took a picture. Part of it is closed off like Times Square.

After a long day of driving, there’s nothing better than heading back to your hotel. But first, dessert!

Muddy’s Bake Shop is a pretty famous joint here in Memphis. (It is not named for Muddy Waters. I know because my husband asked.) The banana pudding was divine. I grudgingly split it with my daughter because she’s at that age where you actually have to give her treats. (My baby is still blissfully clueless of what he’s missing out on. I’d like to stretch that for as long as possible.)

It was a long, fun day from east to west in Tennessee. Tomorrow we’ll have new adventures in Arkansas. (Arkansas, really? We’ll see.)