Sheep is Life

Sheep is Life Celebration in Window Rock, Arizona

We were up before dawn and gone shortly after the sun had just started peeking over the eastern horizon. With a couple of breakfast sandwiches and coffees, we were soon on our way for the half-hour drive northwest to Window Rock, Arizona, the capital of the Navajo Nation. The location of this year’s Sheep is Life celebration was the Navajo Museum, Library, and Visitors Center.

Sheep is Life Celebration in Window Rock, Arizona

We intended to be here by 7:00, but it ended up being closer to 7:30 by the time we ran into a woman, and after an exchange of hello’s, she told us she needed to run as she was hoping to catch the prayer ceremony, which was the very reason we were showing up at this time of day. The woman we followed was invited into the Museum’s Hogan, so our thoughts were that the ceremony would take place in it, but nope, we were wrong because we heard the guy between the Hogan and that pickup truck say it was time to get things underway now that the sun was in the right position.

About a dozen of us joined in a line facing the rising sun as Ron Garnanez led the prayer in Navajo and concluded by pulling out a satchel of yellow corn pollen, touching a small pinch to his forehead, and then offering it to the wind in the direction of the sun. He then passed it to me, and I tried doing the same before passing it to Caroline, who then passed it to someone else. This was a first for us, and needless to say, we were honored.

Caroline and I waited until Ron was finished talking with someone else so we could offer our gratitude for being allowed to join the prayer. It turned out that Ron had to get going because he needed to unload his Jeep. He was going to be the cook for a meal being offered later in the day and had brought supplies. We offered to help him get things over to the kitchen, which he graciously accepted as his helpers hadn’t shown up yet.

Ron Garnanez is not only a sheep rancher, but he also learned to weave early in life, is a nurse by profession, and he’s on the board of Diné Bé’Iiná, which translates to Navajo Lifeway. He’s offered to share with me the process of making today’s extravagant meal.

Sheep is Life Celebration in Window Rock, Arizona

While wandering around after emptying the Jeep and Caroline off somewhere else, I met Sam, who was recruiting volunteers for some sheep-related duties. I told her I knew of the perfect person who’d enthusiastically be willing to help in any way required.

Caroline Wise at the Sheep is Life Celebration in Window Rock, Arizona

Caroline became a sheep wrangler to help show lambs that were to be inspected and graded on a number of criteria. I believe she has the full story as she was in the pen with the others all struggling to hold onto their wards who apparently wanted to be with their fellow sheep they typically herd with. I’ll let Caroline tell you more.

I was excited about being part of the lamb judging! At this point, I had already been watching Nikyle Begay, founder of the Rainbow Fiber Coop, sheepherder, and Navajo-Churro expert, review the registration application for a couple of adult ewes, so I had an idea about what they were going to look for. I had, however, never handled a sheep of any age. This young fellow (lambs are less than one year old) could be handled by holding on to his horns and frogmarching him from the pen into the arena. He struggled only a little, and once we were in the arena, even if I had let go, he couldn’t go far. When he started to buck, someone gave me the tip to hold his chin up with one hand, which helped subdue him. He ended up garnering second place in a group of about ten lambs, and after returning him to his pen, I picked up a ewe lamb and repeated the process. – Caroline

Sheep is Life Celebration in Window Rock, Arizona

I don’t know what would constitute a good turnout for Sheep is Life, but the “crowd” never seemed very large. There were a few Japanese tourists who’d somehow heard about the event, and even one of Caroline’s fellow guild members had come up from the Phoenix area, but somehow, I want to believe that this should be a major cultural happening drawing people from around the world to learn about the Navajo-Churro Sheep and the important role they play in so many aspects of Diné life.

Caroline Wise at the Sheep is Life Celebration in Window Rock, Arizona

Oh well, we are here, and looking at my wife with that happy smile on her face had me choking back the wellspring of emotions that wanted to tug at my eyes. I’m well aware that we are not living common lives and that by cultivating a willingness to lead participatory lives, we are offered meaningful experiences that are far away from any expectations either of us might have had prior to encountering each other and sharing time together. To be present is the precursor to anything happening that would take us further into the inexplicable. Today is one of those moments that defy my understanding that we should be so fortunate.

Sheep is Life Celebration in Window Rock, Arizona

There were over 30 presentations and demonstrations happening over the course of the two days of the event, but sadly, Caroline and I would see very few of them as conversations and volunteering consumed the better part of our day. Learning that Sheep is Life is held every 3rd weekend in June means that we need to plan better for next year’s event so we can learn even more about what’s offered to attendees. On stage at this time were those being recognized with awards by Diné Bé’Iiná (Navajo Lifeway).

Sheep is Life Celebration in Window Rock, Arizona

I was rather surprised by the number of male weavers and cannot remember this many from our previous visit. On the loom right, there is Kevin Tsosie, who’s a Navajo knot weaver, adobe brick maker, and artist using recycled materials. Later in the day, we watched him outside making bricks and plastering a small section of a demo wall to show us how he built his own home.

Caroline Wise at the Sheep is Life Celebration in Window Rock, Arizona

Every so often I check in at the kitchen looking for Ron as he had to run to collect a few things; the hour took longer than he anticipated. I arrived back at the sheep pens in time to find Caroline returning a ewe lamb to its owner; she was worn out from wrestling with the feisty sheep and was ready for some restorative shopping therapy.

Sheep is Life Celebration in Window Rock, Arizona

Blue Bird Flour is the only flour Navajo would use to make Fry Bread; it is key. For years, Caroline wanted to make her own bag of one of the flour sacks, but with so many other projects on the docket, it simply never happened. One of the vendors was about to take care of her desire for a Blue Bird bag, not only that, her friend Claudia in Germany will also be the recipient of one of these rarities. I know I shouldn’t have written this last bit, as she will now know that a gift has been acquired for her, and she has no way of knowing just when we’ll get around to shipping it to her.

Sheep is Life Celebration in Window Rock, Arizona

Not only did Ron show back up, but he is also joined by his daughter Laura and a couple of others; there’s a lot of food to prepare in order to feed the 50 or so people expected for the banquet that should get underway at 6:00. The sheep that is being carved was harvested just yesterday in a demonstration of the process here at Sheep is Life. By the time the meat was being carved up, Laura had already chopped and prepped the internal organs, including the heart, liver, kidneys, lungs, small intestines, fat, and other assorted bits for a variation of ‘ach’íí’ (mutton fat and intestine) that was being made in the crockpot as a stew so everyone could try the internal organs of the sheep.

Sheep is Life Celebration in Window Rock, Arizona

These wild onions are a favored foraging food of sheep; consequently, they are considered the perfect pairing when cooking sheep. Ron pulled these out of the deep freeze from his personal supply. Some years, the weather is not conducive to a good harvest, and so when they are abundant, he stores them for special events such as today’s. The work to peel them out of their sheath is tedious; I now know this firsthand because I helped clean a few hundred of these tiny onions.

Sheep is Life Celebration in Window Rock, Arizona

Spent a good amount of time talking with Franco Lee, a chef up at Mesa Verde National Park in Colorado, down here in Window Rock for the special occasion. Franco enthusiastically walked me through the process of making Navajo cake using corn meal, brown sugar, roasted pinon nuts, and peach slices. He was also preparing two other Navajo dishes I’ll speak of later in this post.

Sheep is Life Celebration in Window Rock, Arizona

Back to Ron, who was running this show. I peeked in on the roasting mutton that was covered in wild onion and wild parsley but not only that. After the pieces of meat had been chosen and washed, Ron opened a large container of sumac and started sprinkling it over the leg and ribs that were going to be a part of the menu. He explained that with the sumac, there was no need for salt during cooking because the sumac would fill that role. While I thought sumac was something special to Persian cuisine, it turns out that there’s an edible variant native to the western United States. The branches are used to make baskets and the berries are for food and drinks.

Live music at the Navajo Arts and Craft Guild in Window Rock, Arizona

Being present for the preparation of the feast only amplified my hunger, following our light breakfast and a couple of handfuls of cherries to sustain us. By midday, it was time to get something to eat. Unable to wait till 6:00, we opted to take a walk over to the Ch’ihootso Indian Market Place at the main intersection here in Window Rock, the location of a few eateries, as well as a busy swap meet. Between the Navajo Museum, where Sheep is Life took place, and the Ch’ihootso Market the building of the Navajo Arts and Craft Guild, where a get-together of sorts was being held. What the purpose was exactly, we never found out but we were quite astonished at the serendipity of what we heard from the band on the left.

First, some backstory: years ago, maybe 20 or more years ago, Caroline and I were driving across the Navajo Nation listening to 660 AM radio, a.k.a. KTNN – The Voice of the Navajo Nation. It was late at night (or so my memory tells me) when a song from Chester Knight titled Love Me Strong came on. We fell in love with the song and downloaded it so we could listen once in a while. Well, time passes and the song is forgotten until today when this band is out here playing just that tune right as we were walking by. This nearly felt impossible, and if we weren’t both on hand for such a coincidence, we might have thought the other was telling us a whopper should they have related the story.

Roast Mutton Sandwich in Window Rock, Arizona

At the Ch’ihootso Market, the busiest eatery of the two in the plaza was Ed’s Cafe, and while the wait was quoted to be 15 to 20 minutes for our food, we went with the idea that the locals know best. The Roast Mutton Deluxe looked like a perfect fit for me, while Caroline felt the Corn w/Squash and Mutton Stew would suit her. While waiting for our exquisite meals, we walked around the market but didn’t find anything that just had to come home with us. I do have one lament about this location: back some 20 or more years ago we were first directed to the “mutton shacks” at this otherwise empty corner. On that first visit, we were leary customers who weren’t going to let some dirt floors and an abundance of flies scare us away from our first encounter with Navajo food. Well, those shacks are now long gone, and with them, some of the flavors and authenticity of the rez.

Caroline Wise and Naiomi Glasses at the Sheep is Life Celebration in Window Rock, Arizona

As we were walking back into Sheep is Life, Caroline thought she recognized famous Navajo influencer, textile artist, and skateboarder Naiomi Glasses, and sure enough, it was her. Having a fan girl moment, we asked Naiomi if she’d take a moment to have her photo taken. Obviously, she obliged. Naiomi told us about a recent project she had done with Sackcloth and Ashes, a company that produces beautiful blankets and donates a blanket to homeless shelters for every purchase. She was here to present the award winners with blankets made after her design and was still having her own moment of feeling overwhelmed by the honor of being able to do this.

Sheep is Life Celebration in Window Rock, Arizona

Let the feasting begin.

Sheep is Life Celebration in Window Rock, Arizona

I had no idea how elaborate our meal was going to be. Things got underway with a bit of sheep’s blood sausage made of blood, bits of meat and pancreas, potato, salt, and pepper stuffed into sheep intestine and boiled. This was served with salad meant to add a sweet and fresh component to the heavy first course. Next up was the ‘ach’íí’ or internal organ stew with wild onion, wild parsley, garlic, and green chili. Our third course was mutton stew with potatoes and chile. Fourth was a small cup of blue corn mush followed by roast mutton served on a bed of red chili, honey, and blue corn flour. Our sixth course acted as a palette cleanser, sumac berry pudding made of sumac, honey, and blue corn flour. Somewhere in there was frybread, and finally, our dessert was the Navajo corn cake topped with peaches and served with a dollop of whipped cream. And not to forget, iced Navajo tea.

Caroline Wise and Laura at the Sheep is Life Celebration in Window Rock, Arizona

Before our end-of-the-day meal was served, we had the opportunity to sit down with Laura Garnanez and her aunt Flora with the conversation turning to addiction and overcoming uncertainty when we are young and not fully understanding our fortunate place in life. We also shared with Laura and her aunt why we were up here and what we get from it, how much we are in love with Navajo culture, how often we’ve been here, our time in a hogan with my mother-in-law, bringing our niece over the reservation, and our first encounter with mutton here in Window Rock. Just before Caroline and I were about to leave, we dipped back into the kitchen to say bye to everyone, and very sweetly, Laura asked about sharing contact information; we seriously hope we’ll have the opportunity to visit with Laura and her family again – this year.

Window Rock, Arizona

Nothing left to do but drive back to Gallup; oh wait, how can we visit Window Rock and not visit its namesake? Okay, now we can take our mutton-stuffed selves back to El Rancho Hotel in Gallup and pass out.

The Sheep are Calling

Caroline Wise and John Wise in Fountain Hills, Arizona

We finished reading our book White Trash: The 400-Year Untold History of Class in America by Nancy Isenberg on our way out of Arizona today. Next week, we will be returning to Marcel Proust’s In Search of Lost Time. Like our return to this French author, which we have been reading intermittently since September 2021, so it takes time to return to other things, such as the annual Sheep is Life celebration on the Navajo Reservation. We last visited this event 15 years ago, in the summer of 2008, when it was being held in Tuba City. Today, we are driving to Gallup, New Mexico, which is the closest we could book a room to Window Rock, Arizona, where Sheep is Life is happening this year.

Arizona Route 87 south of Payson, Arizona

Another chapter from our evolving book of life is being written about this weekend. What follows is a chronicle of the events that occurred over the previous 55 hours. Come to think of it, this is likely just about the same time remaining in Proust’s book and hopefully not the amount of time required to write about these wonderful days.

Where were we going and exactly what time of year was it that we were last driving up Arizona Route 87 admiring how green things were out in front of us? Now, here we are in the early dry days of summer, and things are baking in their old familiar tan hues. Grabbing a decent photo on this stretch of road is nearly impossible because it follows a long curve after cresting a pass, and by now, everyone is hauling ass, and the shoulder is too narrow to pull over to snap a photo. So, while driving as slow as I can in the right lane on a straight section of the road, I ask Caroline to take the wheel while I quickly focus on getting a shot out of the windshield from the driver’s seat.

Arizona Route 377 north of Aripine, Arizona

We’d love to stay on the smaller roads that are less traveled, but this isn’t always easy or expedient. We weren’t able to leave the Phoenix area until nearly 2:30, and we’ll lose an hour when we enter New Mexico due to the time zone change, which will have us checking in to our hotel at approximately 8:00 p.m., the same time that the majority of restaurants close in Gallup. But John, with these skies, why concern yourself with anything other than witnessing and capturing the immense beauty you and your sweet wife seem to nearly always be falling into? Yeah, I know, it is quite charming, isn’t it?

Interstate 40 east of Holbrook, Arizona

And then the reality of expediency rears its ugly head, and we are thrust into the vapid expanse of the interstate that induces yawns but does promise faster delivery if one survives the madness of aggression that rages on America’s highways.

Sunset in western New Mexico

Not long after entering New Mexico on a slightly wider stretch of the highway, we had to pull over as far as we could so that, with the window open, I captured the setting sun that was busy enchanting us here in the Land of Enchantment.

El Rancho Hotel in Gallup, New Mexico

Ten years ago, Caroline stayed at this historic hotel on Route 66 when she and our friend Sharie Monsam were traveling through New Mexico on their way to Durango, Colorado, for a fiber workshop at the Intermountain Weavers. Today, it is the two of us checking in at El Rancho Hotel in Gallup, New Mexico, just as John Wayne, Howard Hughes, Ronald Reagan, Katherine Hepburn, Spencer Tracy, Errol Flynn, Kirk Douglas, Gregory Peck, and Humphrey Bogart did before us. The hotel was originally built in 1936 for the brother of director D.W. Griffith and was used as luxury accommodations for countless Hollywood celebrities.

El Rancho Hotel in Gallup, New Mexico

Sadly, room 316, known as the Howard Hughes Suite, was booked, so we were offered room number 326, the Dana Andrews Room. Dana who? That’s what we thought. It turns out that the majority of the films someone might know him from were shot in the 1940s and 50s, such as Fallen Angel and Kit Carson. Later in his career, he was relegated to TV and B movies such as Take A Hard Ride, directed by Antonio Margheriti and featuring Dana Andrews, James Brown (Cleveland Browns NFL player and actor), and Lee Van Cleef, which looks about as low budget as one might expect of Italian directors in 1975. This one might require watching if we can get past how dated it appears.

Handwoven Cloth

Caroline Wise with her newest handwoven piece of cloth in Phoenix, Arizona

Maybe there’s a problem when one has four weaving looms, two spinning wheels, one backstrap loom, 3 sprang frames, one tapestry loom, and maybe ten drop spindles, and that problem is there are possibly a lot of projects going on simultaneously. How does one choose what to work on? Your guess is as good as anyone’s, and that helps explain why something might take years to finish. Take this piece here that was recently cut off from one of Caroline’s table looms (for clarification, we have two-floor looms and two table looms, not counting the others I mentioned); after a concerted effort over the previous month, this 10-foot (305cm) length of handwoven cloth was finally done.

Finally, you say? Not to shame my wife, okay, maybe a little, she “dressed” the loom, which means she wound a warp and tied it on the loom, for a workshop back in 2019. Should you go thinking that COVID-19 played some role in the delay, you don’t know fiber artists. Too many projects all going on at the same time is their signature malaise, a kind of chronic condition that sees them wanting to work on everything at once. Before they lose sight of an amazing new project, they just go to work setting it up, telling themselves and you that this is just a small one that will go quickly between the other stuff. If pressed, you’ll hear some cockamamie story about how the other partially finished project needs some yarn or requires a friend to be consulted on some issue or that they are stuck in the uncertainty of how to proceed. None of this is true: chaos is their domain, but you already know that as you have to bear witness to their ever-increasing supply of gear, yarn, and various projects gathering dust.

I do have to give Caroline credit as earlier this year, she cut off several handwoven towels that were on the Baby Wolf floor loom; she’s made great progress on an incredibly tedious and complex scarf she’s been braiding on the sprang loom, and she knit me a pair of socks, is working on a new sweater, and of course, the table loom is now ready to have another multi-year project tossed on it.

Should you sense that I might be poking fun at Caroline, you’d be correct, but I’m also delighted that she is so adept at keeping herself engaged with things she loves doing and feels inspired by. I can’t remember a day in the past 34 years that she’s expressed boredom about what to do with her time, so while I might give her a hard time here and there, I admire her tenacity and ability to ensure she’s always invested in doing things that bring her happiness.

Puppets of the Machine

Puppet of the Machine

Why even try to develop knowledge and a broad vocabulary when AI can offer you the illusion of having acquired those things? I’m all for using available tools to discover and learn, tools that allow us to integrate new things into our repertoire of exchange and communication. But if we start hiding behind a facade built by and with AI, we’ll become puppets of the machine.

Erudition arrives quickly for those who are young and focused and considerably longer for those who are distracted and maybe a bit too hedonistic. Of course, society doesn’t want to spend time waiting for knowledge to arrive in people when the economy is measured in productivity that matters at the moment. We must all find our economic quotient quickly so the system can better assess our value and convince us to take on the financial burden of those things that help move money. The measure of GNP is more important than the measure of the quality of life, so the quicker one fakes it, the quicker the system believes you are “making it.” Artificial Intelligence allows us to chat with the accumulated knowledge of humanity and, therefore, in some way, absolves us from having to peel back the layers of discovery on our paths into intellectual acumen. The risk is that not only will we eschew book knowledge, but we may also forget to explore self-knowledge.

Know thyself is an ancient Greek maxim that served humanity well as it encouraged our species to then discover what serves us and unloads some of the burdens of physical existence, but that process of knowing has taken thousands of years to get us to where we’re at today. As we compress the time requirements to become learned with the assistance of electronic transformers buried in the machine of AI, will we correspondingly decouple the time demands from companies that exert pressure on our free time to self-explore? The sad answer is probably no, and for good reason: the average person would likely fritter away those gained moments on frivolous entertainment and mindlessly numb their senses to gain nothing, while those of us who’ve already placed a premium on learning and exploration will have to maintain the status quo because being in a minority doesn’t inspire the powers that be to afford special privileges to the few.

As the machine of AI enters the landscape, the human will gain an appearance of greater knowledge, meaning greater economic viability at an earlier age. This facade of intelligence becomes the body armor of the age and our smart machines become munitions for combat on the field of economic dominance. In an apparent second, humanity has discovered a new form of war gained by adorning ourselves with the fashions of GPT.

The Absolute Middle – Day 6

Sunrise in Santa Rosa, New Mexico

There was no alarm set for 4:30, but that didn’t stop us from waking up and getting out on the road by 5:00 in the early morning. When we left we could see still stars to the west ahead of us and barely an inkling of light behind us. We were probably nearly an hour down the road when we pulled over to snap this photo of the rising sun back on the western edge of the plains.

Lulu's Kitchen on Route 66 in Moriarty, New Mexico

We had left Santa Rosa so early that our breakfast choices were non-existent, but by the time we reached Moriarty, New Mexico, a place called Lulu’s Kitchen on Route 66 was just opening. This little joint is not a sit-down operation, and for one second, I considered going elsewhere, but time is precious today, so we opted to try their breakfast burritos. This being New Mexico, we had the choice of red or green chili, which was a plus. That our burritos took nearly 15 minutes to prepare. We at first perceived this as a negative, but that was only until we took our first bites. “Wow!” doesn’t do Lulu’s breakfast burros justice as they were perfect, nothing short of that. They are only open from Monday through Thursday from 6:00 to 2:00, so if you just happened to be passing through Moriarty on one of those four days during those limited hours, be sure to stop by.

Interstate 40 in New Mexico

From burritos to red rocks, we are back in the familiar.

Native American Curio Shop on Interstate 40 at the New Mexico and Arizona State Line

Harkening to a golden age of travel with people driving across the United States for an Old West experience, this is a typical Route 66 tourist stop for travelers to buy souvenirs made by real Indians, find clean toilets, and live their dreams from a childhood playing cowboys and Indians. Rest stops like these across Arizona and New Mexico invited people to marvel at the wonders never seen before in person.

Native American Curio Shop on Interstate 40 at the New Mexico and Arizona State Line

These relics are now mostly dilapidated, while some hold on better than others. Typically, we’ve avoided stopping as there’s a sadness to seeing the failing enterprises that, in days gone by, were likely hopping places bringing in a lot of outside currency.

Native American Curio Shop on Interstate 40 at the New Mexico and Arizona State Line

It was still early when we arrived here at the NM-AZ state line, hoping to find a roadside vendor selling roast mutton. We’d seen a sign west of Gallup, New Mexico, that a shop here sold roast sheep ribs, but they weren’t open yet, so no mutton for us. As for buying stuff from Teepee Trading that was open, we couldn’t bring ourselves to go in as there really wasn’t anything we wanted to add to our hoard of stuff.

Arizona State Line on Interstate 40

How many times have we passed by and failed to stop and capture this Arizona State Line sign?  Countless times, that’s how many.

Native American Billboards along Interstate 40 in Arizona

The town of Houck was named after a local trading post operator, James D. Houck. Trying to take photos from the car moving at highway speed didn’t allow me to fully investigate the surroundings; just the bright yellow sign was the first thing that caught my eye. And so I can’t tell you what else might be open, though it’s obvious that the old Armco gas station is no more and that whatever is left of Fort Courage is for sale. Not that I would expect most any reader of my blog to remember this, but the old show called F Troop that ran in the mid-60s and which I watched as reruns was set at Fort Courage. Not this trading post called Fort Courage, but at a fictional place. Anyway, that’s it for my nostalgia, I think.

Native American Billboards along Interstate 40 in Arizona

Get your CLEAN RESTROOMS, Indian Ruins, and Route 66 junk you didn’t know you needed at the NEXT EXIT!

Grand Canyon ahead on Interstate 40 in Arizona

What else were you supposed to do on those long cross-country drives when the family was cruising down the highway with nary a radio station to tune into, and your car could barely do 60 mph on your way to the Grand Canyon that was still 190 miles away?

Native American Billboards along Interstate 40 in Arizona

“Dad, you’ve got to stop at the next place; they have dinosaur fossils and petrified wood. I bet they’ll have ice cream, too.”

Native American Billboards along Interstate 40 in Arizona

“Oh my god, are those real dinosaurs? Come on, Mom, make Dad stop; we’ve got to pee.” Getting wise, Mom asks, “Didn’t you just pee at Fort Courage?”

Native American Billboards along Interstate 40 in Arizona

“But they have real teepees at that place, pleeeeze, Dad; you’ve gotta stop.”

As the years passed, so did the cars as people were no longer out seeing the sights, the drivers have somewhere to be, and tchotchkes they believed were probably made in Japan (1980s) or China (2000s) were not interesting. The days of Native Americans being curiosities are over, while nostalgia probably lives on for those trying to capture something out of the past.

Off Arizona Route 377 south of Holbrook, Arizona

In Holbrook, we were able to leave the interstate and return to the small roads that would take us home or maybe not. We’ve gotten the message that today will be a good day to pick up our new glasses from the Oculist, which is going out of business, so we’ll be going into Phoenix to deal with that and let the owners, Brian and Angela get on with changing their life’s direction. They’ll be missed, but everyone has to take a new direction from time to time.

Wild Woods in Heber-Overgaard on Arizona Route 260

From the passenger seat, “Come on, John, you’ve got to turn around; I’ve always wanted to check out those chainsaw carvings…and I’ve got to pee.”

Arizona Route 260 between Heber and Payson, Arizona

I’m making an extra effort today to photograph our return to Arizona since it feels that I too often neglect large parts of the landscape here because they feel so familiar. I’ve probably posted them dozens of times after all, but the reality is, I’ve likely not shared these stretches I might be taking for granted.

Arizona Route 260 between Heber and Payson, Arizona

Even though I know that Arizona is not all sand and cactus, I somehow want to forget that beyond the Grand Canyon, many people probably don’t know about our vast forested areas and herds of unicorns. Okay, we don’t have unicorns; I just wanted to see if anyone was reading this stuff, aside from our AI Overlords.

Arizona Route 87 south of Payson, Arizona

We have just left the Payson, Arizona, area on the Mogollon Rim, and for years, I’ve wanted photos of this transition zone from forest to desert, but the intensity of aggressive drivers racing to get back to Phoenix makes for a white-knuckled drive down to the lower elevations. Combine that wreckless speed assault with the fact that there’s no safe place to pull over, and the options to stop for photos are reduced to nil. So, through the windshield, I attempt a quick burst of images as Caroline handles the wheel from my right; I think we make a great team, albeit an occasionally dangerous one.

Arizona Route 87 south of Payson, Arizona

So, in yesterday’s post at the end of it, I mentioned a strange phone call. We were about to go to sleep when an old friend named Krupesh called me. We’d not heard from him in years. The first thing that came to mind was that he was chosen to share some dire news about someone we used to be close to in the Indian community who had passed away, but before he could convey that, he was already asking me to hold on. He handed the phone to someone else, and an even more distant voice said, “Hi John.” It was Jay Patel. The last time we saw Jay was August 15, 2004, as he was leaving the United States to return to India. He asked if we could meet the next day as he would be in Arizona for only two days and had to leave on Wednesday. Certainly, we could make that happen. Getting out of New Mexico early and not taking any detours on this last day of vacation was to ensure we would be back home in time to give us the greatest flexibility for fitting into his tight schedule.

Caroline Wise, Jay Patel and his daughter, John Wise in Phoenix, Arizona

I can’t believe we were just talking about Jay while we were up in North Dakota as the last time we were in that state, it was with him, and now here today, after nearly 20 years, we are seeing him and his daughter face to face. Jay was in the United States to take his mom and his little girl Siya to Disneyworld with a very brief stop here to say hi to friends. It would have been easy to monopolize Jay’s time, but when we arrived at Krupesh’s home, there were close to 20 people already there, so we did our best to race through shared memories and update each other about things happening in our respective lives.

Sonal Patel's mother, known as Ba in Phoenix, Arizona

This is Sonal’s mom, who’s earned the title, Ba – meaning grandmother. Sonal, you might remember, was the owner of Indo Euro Foods and was the person who convinced us to move closer to them back in 2003, which was great as we shared many meals over at their house for nearly ten years before circumstances saw us all drifting in various directions. It was Ba who made the exquisite food we’d enjoyed with them on so many occasions. It was simply wonderful seeing her smile again.

Rinku Shah, Jay Patel, Caroline Wise and Sonal Patel in Phoenix, Arizona

Of course, there was food and lots of it, but as I said, we didn’t want to keep Jay from everyone else who wanted to fall into conversation and laughter with the guy, so we took our leave after little more than a couple of hours here. On the left is Rinku; I photographed her wedding back in 2009; on the right is Sonal Patel, who will forever be an important part of our lives even if we rarely see her these days. Our time in the Gujarati community was a milestone in the experiences that have left indelible impressions upon us; we miss everyone who, for a decade, were some of our best friends.

The Absolute Middle – Day 5

Foggy U.S. Route 83 in Southern Nebraska

I think it was 5:15 when we woke, and I’m pretty sure we were in the car just after 5:30ish, but we were not about to go south yet. We had to double back on U.S. Route 83 North over the freeway because Penny’s Diner is just on the other side from where we spent the night. As we were sitting there having breakfast, Caroline was puzzling over the idea that the place felt familiar, and then it came to her: we ate at Penny’s Diner in Milford, Utah, last year on our way to Great Basin National Park.

Were we in that diner for even 30 minutes? It was still a bit dark when we left, but hints of daylight were coming through the early morning murk. It would take a short while to realize it wasn’t clouds but fog surrounding us.

Foggy U.S. Route 83 in Southern Nebraska

Driving at 112 mph (180 km/h) through the fog, we are counting on the road being as quiet as it was yesterday, and since we didn’t see a single policeman the day before, what would be the chances of seeing one now? Just kidding, I was too nervous that one of those giant farm tractors that lumber down the road could be crawling ahead of us, and then there are those seriously large loads where crews are moving the pieces of wind turbines into place. Nope, no speeding here, just calm cruising into the gray unknown.

Foggy U.S. Route 83 in Southern Nebraska

It could have remained foggy all morning, and that might have been delightful, though the photos would have suffered. Then again, that could have been a good thing, considering that we are still 1,200 miles (1,930 km) from home, but we didn’t come all the way out here to see it slip by too quickly.

Foggy U.S. Route 83 in Southern Nebraska

Living in the Phoenix area of Arizona, it’s easy to forget that other places have weather. I understand that readers might think I’m being tongue-in-cheek with such a statement, but as I’ve said before, it’s a rare day in the desert that we don’t see at least some small patch of blue sky, and I know that isn’t very common elsewhere. Likely due to the rarity of inclement weather, we dwellers from the Valley of the Sun have a romanticized view of what others seem to use as a basis for lamentation. Should you sense some contradiction, you’d be correct; I only like poor weather when it’s not conflicting with taking memorable photos.

Caroline Wise and John Wise at the Kansas State Line on U.S. Route 83

Take this photo here. Would it be so happy if it weren’t for the wind and sunshine? Of course, the smiles of the couple featured add to the sense that something is found here that is full of love.

U.S. Route 83 in Kansas

There is a kind of sadness out on the Great Plains when you realize it was turned into “The Flyover States.” A vast sea of monotonous boredom is all that might be found in this open expanse was what I learned and what others have shared over the years. This poor image was likely cultivated by Madison Avenue and Hollywood in order to help drive tourism to the two coasts of America to better serve New York City, Florida, and California as the destination with the greatest value. This disparagement of advertising was to the detriment of creating a viable tourism industry in the middle of America.

U.S. Route 83 in Kansas

The services out here only serve a perfunctory role for those requiring absolute utility. The quaint diner, bike trails across the prairie, a slow luxury train crawling over the landscape, a weekend barn stay, and an emphasis on wildlife refuges are the things sorely missing. Dreamy experiences are only manufactured in our metropolitan areas, beaches, and lakes.

U.S. Route 83 in Kansas

Out here on the Great Plains, you must engage your senses and plumb your imagination as trophies are not presented as self-evident iconic architecture and characters.

U.S. Route 83 in Kansas

Whoa, exposed rocks in Kansas, I had no idea! Out here on these small roads, there’s an opportunity in the randomness of things that might catch your eye where we can allow ourselves the indulgence of pulling over and enjoying the moment. That spontaneity to find serendipity is lost on the interstate, where you are forced to conform in order to survive.

Wheat next to U.S. Route 83 in Kansas

Wheat, this is exactly what you’d expect to see out here. You should also expect to listen to an incredible soundscape with the prairie abuzz as nature reawakens to the activity of bugs and birds. From hilly areas, sounds bounce around to these relatively flat expanses of the plains where bird calls, insects, and the wind change the entire orchestration of nature’s symphony. This part of our experience in the middle of America is nothing less than inspirational.

U.S. Route 83 in Kansas

Just as we were about to pass through Garden City, Kansas, we encountered these behemoths convening on the ramp to U.S. Route 400. I believe I’ve seen these types of tanks on feedlots, or maybe they are used for water, but my sleuthing skills are coming up short. All the same, they are amazing in their gargantuan size, as is being here to see a small part of the logistics of moving such pieces of equipment.

Finding out more about this giant roadside golf ball north of Sublette, Kansas, required turning to artificial intelligence as traditional search engine results or searching by image just weren’t doing it. Finally, reluctantly using Google’s Bard, I was able to learn that this FAA (Federal Aviation Administration)-operated radar station is used primarily for air traffic monitoring and secondarily for weather tracking.

Oklahoma State Line on U.S. Route 83

Only 36 miles of Oklahoma ahead of us on this narrow strip of the state.

U.S. Route 83 in Oklahoma

There, did you see it? That was Oklahoma.

A tick on U.S. Route 83 in Oklahoma

Hello, little Dermacentor variabilis, also known as the American dog tick or wood tick. Only strings of expletives are worthy to describe these damned demons that shove something called a hypostome through the skin, which is described as a harpoon-like doubled-edged barbed sword and is the mechanism that makes it so difficult to dislodge them. Needless to say, we are not fans, and after having one embedded in my leg last year for the better part of a morning and afternoon, I never want another one, as the hole it created took weeks to heal. I think this was the third tick we found during our trek into the Great Ticky Plains.

Texas State Line on U.S. Route 83

Welcome to Texas, where you are told to drive friendly, and maybe it’s just implied that you are supposed to shoot with deadly accuracy. To be fair, Texas has only had 18 mass shootings in the past ten years, hardly any at all, and only 154 people died. Don’t get stupid asking about how many were injured; they don’t count in Texas. By the way, there were supposedly 40 other mass shootings in Texas over this period of time, but they don’t have Wikipedia articles, so they don’t rise to be noteworthy and should be ignored. Finally, don’t go thinking that Texas is some kind of leader in mass shootings, as Illinois holds that distinction, with Texas being second. To you busybodies whose curiosity is getting the best of you, let me just go ahead and satisfy your curiosity now so you need not leave my site to learn the stats. Those 58 mass shootings saw 368 people killed and 1,217 injured, like I told you, hardly any at all.

On U.S. Route 83 in Perryton, Texas

Coming into Perryton, the first town you reach on U.S. Route 83 as you enter Texas, you are presented with this great mural, but before you leave town, you get to see these billboards.

On U.S. Route 83 in Perryton, Texas

Need a suppressor for your weapon while passing through Texas? Apocalyptic Fabrication has you covered. How about a Gun Candy colorful coating for your favorite firearm? They do that, too. It turns out that gun enthusiasts might also be fish lovers because the nearby Apocalyptic Aquariums are run by the same company. Guns and Fish, the Texas Way!

U.S. Route 83 in Texas

I was reconsidering my focus on mass shootings and aquariums after I hit save while working on this, and my first photo of this day triggered me to ask Google’s Bard about road deaths due to killer fog, and sure enough, on average, fog kills about 100 people per year with 2,000 injured, no small peanuts, huh? Okay, smarty pants, Bard, now show me how this eclipses the total number of mass shooting victims per year here in the Good’ol U.S. of A. Oh, really, that many? I should just leave this out but holy wow. This likely super faulty artificial intelligence operated by Google tries telling me that about 3,600 people a year die in mass shootings and that about 10,000 are injured. It ended its information/disinformation by trying to tell me that for comparison, in the same year, 2021, it was sampling, there was one mass shooting in the United Kingdom that resulted in ZERO deaths.

U.S. Route 83 in Texas

Yo, Mr. Bummer John, how about moving on down the road and returning to the grandeur and bird songs that accompanied your beautiful trip into the middle of America instead of dragging our dirty laundry out onto the highway?

Green Dinosaur outside Canadian, Texas on U.S. Route 83

Oh, look, a green dinosaur.

U.S. Route 83 in Texas

Lucky for us, it is Monday, which means that Cattle Exchange Steak House just behind us in Canadian is closed, or I might have been inclined to devour yet another pound of steak. Instead, we just keep driving down that old Texas highway.

Caroline Wise in Wheeler, Texas off U.S. Route 83

Jeez, Caroline, it looks like you want to go home with this statue of astronaut Alan Bean. Mr. Bean was born right here in Wheeler, Texas, on U.S. Route 83, thus putting this otherwise small town on the map. Speaking of maps, our need to study ours is quickly coming to an end, along with the ability to choose our own pace.

U.S. Route 83 in Shamrock, Texas

As Porky Pig used to say, “That’s all folks!” We are as far south on U.S. Route 83 as we’ll travel on this trip. The next part of our journey will take us onto Interstate 40 going west, where at 80 mph (130 km/h), we’ll be simply hauling ass with no opportunity to stop and admire anything.

Entering New Mexico on Interstate 40 from Texas

Our bug-splattered windshield becomes the filter through which I photograph our re-entry into New Mexico.

La Cita Mexican Restaurant in Tucumcari, New Mexico

Having emptied our ice chest yesterday, since our breakfast this morning in North Platte, we’ve been surviving on fruit, nuts, and a couple of tortillas until we reached Tucumcari, New Mexico, where La Cita, which we’d seen the other day, beckoned because it looked cool. Was the food cool? Well, the guacamole certainly hit the spot, and the rest was more or less standard Gringo/Mexican fare.

We thought we might make it to Albuquerque this evening, but by the time we reached Santa Rosa, we were finished and needed a break. No, we didn’t return to the stinky motel with the nostalgic Route 66 neon sign and opted for a Super 8 at $95 for the night. While in our room and minutes before we were about to go to sleep, I got the strangest phone call, but details will have to wait for tomorrow’s blog post. Stay tuned.