So we’re taking our annual road trip in the late winter this year, rather than our normal fall outings. What can I say, we’re rebels.
This year’s road trip edition has been through the great Southwest, again, because there’s so much of it. Loads and loads, it’s quite immense really. Sure some people might argue that after a thousand miles of desert it all starts to look the same, and there’s something to that. We, on the other hand appreciate the subtle differences between a Sonoran and a Mojave type desert and feel that each brings a unique perspective that we try to escape as soon as possible, in order to enjoy cocktails around the pool. Deserts we’ve discovered, go so much better with gin and chlorinated water.
We also live adjacent to the Great Southwest, so logistics alone dictate that most of our road trips involve some kind of slog through a hell-blasted, waterless wasteland, scenic though they may be. And as a bonus we get to see things you just can’t find at home. Like the Roadkill Cafe. A place that can be found deep in the hinterlands of Arizona.
We didn’t actually stop at the Roadkill Cafe, much to my everlasting regret, since it wasn’t yet lunchtime, we had schedules to keep, and/or the sun was in our eyes. I think Mary was secretly relieved, not because she feared we’d actually encounter possum pot pie or chipmunk fricassee, but so she’d avoid being around me as I peppered the server with queries like, “so what’s hot off the tarmac today?”, or “is there a difference between the armadillo flattened by a Ford versus one splattered by a Nissan?”
Perhaps on a future trip we can make plans to stop by. I have lots of questions.