Day 14, 15, & 16 Homeward bound
Up early, we found our way back onto eastbound I-40. The Land of Enchantment state sign greeted us as we crossed into New Mexico. Cracker Barrel in Gallup Was a welcome sight. We enjoyed a leisurely breakfast, compliments of Frenchie. As we neared Albuquerque, Frenchie took off to the north for Rio Rancho while we continued eastward. Railroad tracks follow I-40 through most of New Mexico, and it was not unusual to see 3 or 4 engines pulling long, long rows of cars, sometimes box cars, sometimes ore cars. Set against the mountains in the backdrop made for a picturesque site - the kind of photograph you might see on a calendar.
The terrain changed to high plains as we crossed into Texas and the trains, so prevalent in New Mexico, changed to wind turbines and vast stockyards. The wind turbines stretched as far as the eye could see north and south of the interstate and continued for hundreds of miles. Cows dotted the landscape, small creatures under the sizable wind turbines. We had been looking forward to a meal at Tyler’s barbecue in Amarillo, but alas, upon arrival, all we could see were ‘sold out’ signs scrawled out and taped in the windows. Luckily, Rudy’s bbq was just around the corner. We were in Texas after all, bbq joints abound. Rudy’s was a huge establishment, even had gasoline pumps outside. We feasted on brisket and beans, cole slaw and potato salad, and chocolate pudding topped it all off.
With a couple more hours of road behind us, we stopped for the night at Foss OK to find a KOA campground. The fan in our teardrop provided a nice breeze in the arid, warm air. A secondary gain was the white noise drowning out the interstate highway noise and we fell fast asleep. 630 miles
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When we woke up, the day was already promising to be a scorcher. We hit the road, eastbound on I-40 and shortly before Oklahoma City, stopped for fuel at a Cherokee Trading post. We fueled up, browsed the store, purchased a few tokens for friends back home, and went over to the restaurant for eggs, bacon, and hash browns.
We left the dry flat plains when we crossed back into Arkansas. The vegetation was lush and green, hilly and wooded. Just past Little Rock, we saw several billboards for Nick’s Barbecue and Catfish. Not wanting to negotiate Friday night city traffic in Memphis, we decided to give Nick’s a try. We pulled off I-40 in Carlisle and Nick’s had recently outgrown their restaurant and built a large, modern building. The bbq was delicious and we made a note to visit again next time we were traveling this way. Carlisle is due north of Crossett, a paper mill town from my paper-making days. We left a town full of good friends when we moved out of Crossett.
After dinner, we crossed the mighty Mississippi River, dropped south on I-55 through Memphis, and then onto SR 78 which turned into I-22. We were headed for Wall Doxey State Park. Alabama was playing Ole Miss in Mississippi on Saturday so campgrounds were filling with football fans. We secured a nicely wooded site, far from interstate noise. A hot shower, a little reading time, and then we were ready. When lights went out, so did we. 580 miles
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We felt the humidity as soon as we woke up. Warm and muggy. Such a contrast to the desert air back west. Yes, we knew we were back in the South. We packed camp, ie, closed the roof vent and doors, and made our way back to I-22 southbound. Cracker Barrel Restaurant was a welcome stop just a few miles down the road in New Albany.
Outside Birmingham, we stopped at Bass Pro Shop to stretch our legs as we wandered the aisles looking for goods we would need for Desert Expedition 9 next year.
We piled back into the rig, drove across one more state line, and arrived at last, home. Time to settle in, unpack, wash up, and plan for next year's desert expedition.
So until next time,
“Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts. There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature -- the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after winter.” (Rachel Carson)