Two things happened in Oklahoma City:
- We didn’t eat doughnuts.
- 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.