Lost Images

After years of searching in vain for the lost images of my Eastward Bound trip from Bryce Canyon to Acadia, I hit upon the brilliant idea of scanning the images on the photo sheets I did for my Mom and Dad. The photo sheets were done on regular print paper, not photo paper, so the quality wasn't the greatest, but they're there. Also, I noticed that the quality that was there was that of a Polaroid, so I did a little research and found a site that could teach me (again) how to add the proper white area around the picture to achieve the proper Polaroid effect. I'd done this in an entry some time back and was totally jazzed, pledging to return and do it again someday when the opportunity presented itself. Well, here we are, right smack dab in the middle of opportunity, so here goes. This is Ol' Blue packed up and rearin' to hit the road, just outside of Bryce Canyon.


In a decision to avoid a possible snowstorm on the Kaibab Plateau near the Grand Canyon, I elected to take a different route than planned, but then missed the turnoff and ended up on the plateau after all and driving on snow-laden roads. (I did miss the storm, though.) The upside to this serendipitious little navigational error was getting to cruise past Rock Dwellers on Route 89A along the Vermillion Cliffs, a place established and settled during the Great Depression by Blanche Russell, a Ziegfield Follies dancer. She and her husband had been traveling west to settle down in someplace more suitable to his tuberculosis, when Fortune stepped up and left them stranded here due to car trouble. She liked it here so much, she and her husband decided to plant stakes and make a go of it. This is only one of several dwellings, all of which have long since been abandoned.


This is the interior of the Cliff Dwellers Lodge -- as opposed to the Cliff Dwellers Hotel down the road a ways -- and is pretty darned awesome, I think. This used to be a home, restaurant and gas station, and I would love to have seen it in its heyday. For more info and photos on this odd and fascinating place, check out the Arizona Central website by clicking on the link below.

Cliff Dwellers

In another nearly disastrous turn, I was cruising through Gallup, NM, after sundown that first day and wondering where I was going to spend the night. Money was tight and I had planned to camp at the State Park in Santa Rosa, but it was dark and windy and frigid, so I decided to grab some coffee and stay nice and warm driving in Ol' Blue on through the night. Fate once again reared its head, though, and showed me something no one ever wants to see on a road trip, especially on a windy wintry night -- a little light on the dashboard saying ENGINE. After pulling over and opening the hood, the billowing white vapor leaping merrily into the 20 mph 18-degree wind confirmed what the little light said: That's all, folks. Thanks to my cell phone and AAA, my car and I were towed the 25 miles back to Gallup, where Ol' Blue was left in the Pep Boys parking lot to await the necessary repairs and I was dropped off at a motel here on Route 66.


And here we are, at my little hideaway on the Mother Road, the Ambassador Motel. It was cheesy, to say the least, but at $19.95 per night, I couldn't argue with the price. It was quite fun, actually, staying in this little run-down motel on one of the most important roads in America, and I often wondered just who else might have stayed here in those days gone by. Anyone important, or just your normal everyday American family on a quest to adventure? I hope their adventure was less stressful than this one was becoming.


As a parting shot, I'll leave you with one of the more artistic images from the trip, this of the age-old patio chair sitting in the morning sun outside the motel's office. I've always loved these chairs and I'll bet this one has probably been here as long as the motel itself. I'm amazed that with two full days to spend here on Route 66 I didn't get out and explore more, to take in all the character I now know exists, but at that time I wasn't really into it like I am now. What a shame. Well, I guess I'll just have to go back, huh?

If you want to see all the "recovered" images from this trip, check out my Eastward Bound gallery on SmugMug by clicking the link below. (I'm afraid they won't have the Polaroid frames around them, though. Sorry.)

Eastward Bound