The Road to Diamond, Day 363: Tucumcari, Back Then

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November 25, 2025, Amarillo- Having been interested in prehistoric life since I was around 6 years old, I had to seize the opportunity to visit a place which I had sped past, about two dozen times, over the last 25 years: Mesalands Dinosaur Museum, in Tucumcari, New Mexico.

“Tucumcari Tonight!” was a billboard slogan that was shown as far west as Gallup and as far east as Clinton, OK., in the 1980s and ’90s. The little town’s motels and restaurants were billed as a fine halfway point between Albuquerque and Amarillo, in a bid to recover from the loss of traffic, after I-40 replaced U.S. Highway 66, as the prime east-west conduit in the upper South.

I’ve stayed in Tucumcari a couple of times and stopped for dinner there once. I found it a welcoming place-just a bit too far west, when I was going from Gallup eastward and a bit too far east, when going from Oklahoma City or Amarillo, westward. Today gave me the reason to take in the museum, as my itinerary was Moriarty to Amarillo.

The day started with a wonderfully flavourful “Classic Breakfast” at a Country Pride restaurant, on Moriarty’s west side. After about ten minutes, I was the lone diner in the place, a shame, as this Country Pride’s cooks and server seem to care about their customers. K looked bored stiff, but was pleasant and attentive to me and to those who were about to leave. I felt sorry for her, but she said this is the way in Moriarty, from October to April-slow traffic at the Travel Center. I wouldn’t have guessed it was Shoulder Season last night, though, as the nearby Nachos Mexican Restaurant was packed.

I left Moriarty around 9:15 and headed towards Tucumcari and Amarillo, stopping for gas at some friends’ station in Milagro, a rural stop about halfway between Moriarty and “Tuke”. About five miles west of Tucumcari, there was a one car accident, closing the highway fro about twenty minutes. Some people decided to cross the grassy median, and drive west to the frontage road at Cuervo, then head back east. I thought better of that and stayed put, not being in any particular hurry.

Once traffic resumed, it was not long before I was in the first section of Mesalands, the Early Life exhibit, focusing on ancient sea life: Trilobites, ammonites and prehistoric insects are prominent in the collection of fossils from the Cambrian and Carboniferous Ages, the time before the emergence of amphibians in the Permian Era. There are then open rooms displaying fossils and bronze castings of dinosaurs and related reptilians, early avians and some mammalian megafauna. The Triassic, Jurassic and Cretaceous Eras are all well-covered. A small section is devoted to the Cenozoic Era, the modern time of mammals, including us humans.

This being a largely fossil-centric institution, minerals have their place in the exhibits, including the Shanks Collection, one of the loveliest mineral exhibits this side of Jerome State Park, in Arizona, which to me is the Gold Standard for mineral displays. Howard and Laura Shanks were keenly interested in the mineral and fossil troves of the Quay County area, collecting sizable amounts of all manner of unearthed gems, minerals and petrified animals and plants. These were donated to Mesalands Community College, in 2004, and the Museum was born. Paleontology has continued apace, with bronze castings and careful restoration of even large dinosaur fossils finding their places in this marvelous collaboration between Mesalands Community College and the people of Tucumcari.

Here are five photos from today’s visit to Tucumcari, Back Then.

Henry Gonzales, professional bronzecaster, who created the dinosaur marvels of Mesalands Dinosaur Museum and taught others his craft.
Coelophysis, one of the terrors of the Triassic Period, was an ancestor of velociraptors, and of birds.
An Apatosaurus got stuck in the mud, and left this for us.
Torvosaurus, an apex predator of the Jurassic Era.
A variety of petrified material, in one stone.

There was enough in this Best Kept Secret of northeastern New Mexico to keep me enthralled for two hours. Many more photos will be posted on my Flickr account: https://www.flickr.com/photos/86298326@N07/, over the next several days.

Now, I am resting at a Motel 6, on the west side of Amarillo. After breakfast, tomorrow, in this city’s “Fun Zone” (Old 66), I will make my way down to my little family’s home.

The Wilshire Finger Points East

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November 12, 2019, Santa Monica- 

There are any number of iconic streets across the country, and in the Los Angeles area, in particular.  U.S. Route 66 ends (or begins) here, a scant few blocks from where I stood just moments ago.  Several of the streets around this quadrant are enshrined in my childhood memory, albeit from TV ( Sunset Boulevard and Strip remain in the Long-Term Bank, thanks to Edd “Kookie” Byrnes, who was the king of smooth).  Route 66 itself was the province of George Maharis (“Buzz Murdock”, Kookie’s heir apparent).

It is Wilshire Boulevard, though, which has the most cachet- It starts here, overlooking the beach and hosts some of LA’s great museums. Wilshire leads the visitor to UCLA’s turnoff, to Hollywood and, eventually, to Koreatown.

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At its western terminus, St. Monica herself is the traffic icon, standing between Wilshire and the long drop down a steep cliff.

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I chose to walk, from the far end of Third Avenue’s Promenade, to this overlook.

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So, the true glory of Santa Monica, these days, lies in how the city is making itself pedestrian-friendly.  Third Street Promenade, like other urban pioneering efforts, is a well-planned and relaxing venue for people, of all walks of life, to re-center themselves. My first order of business, after checking out of Rest Haven, was to find breakfast.  That matter was resolved by Santa Monica’s branch of LA’s Le Pain Quotidien.  Mini-pancakes and cafe au lait sufficed, as there will be a lunch meet-up with a family friend later on, in Hollywood. LPQ is my kind of spot, though, with a long communal table that goes against the “keep away from my turf” ethic that is so prevalent in many American establishments.  Strangers here are truly “friends you haven’t met.”

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These are just a few of what LPQ offers.

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The long row does have its share of kitsch, in the form of dinosauria.  At least, it’s imaginative kitsch.

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Bella, another signature cafe, would have been my breakfast choice, had not LPQ stared me in the face, when I first left the parking garage.

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Walking towards the beach overlook, I was captivated by a small boy, who was re-arranging these chess pieces, under his mother’s watchful eyes.  I sat a few rows away and pondered his “strategy”.  For a four-year-old, the little guy was doing quite well.

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Such is life, in one of Los Angeles’ most eclectic satellite communities.  Now, it is time for me to head to yet another of those:  Hollywood.

The Hollow Brings Fullness

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July 25, 2017, Mooreland, OK-

I have a penchant for finding lush canyons and small forests, in places that are mostly noted for being “featureless”.  Nowhere is featureless.  The scoured and glaciated plains of Kansas are punctuated by riparian arroyos, which offer a pleasant break for the distance traveler, as well as a hangout spot for local youth.  One such is The Hollow, in Sedan, about which, more in a bit.

I decided, after breakfast with my cousin, Lisa, to forego the Oklahoma Turnpike and take US 166 across southern Kansas.    My first stop was in Baxter Springs, which celebrates its tie to the Mother Road.  Another shutterbug, a young lady, was quietly taking in the even quieter scenes of downtown Baxter, as I checked out “66”.

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I had miles to go, as yet, so I left Baxter Springs, after about twenty minutes, continuing on through bustling Coffeyville.  Sedan, though, called out to me, to take the right turn into town, where I spotted a sign for “The Hollow”.  This town is known for its “Yellow Brick Road”.  A couple of teen girls, very much owning downtown, at this mid-day, sauntered down the yellow bricks, not long after I took this shot.

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Sedan also is notable for a museum dedicated to Emmett Kelly,  a famed circus clown of the 1930’s-60’s.  Emmett was a native of Sedan, so his statue stands in The Hollow Park.

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Some elements of The Hollow are vintage Great Plains:  There is the old St. Charles school house.

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There is also the requisite gazebo, but with a pointed twist.

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I can sit in gazebos for hours, but this time, forty minutes for lunch and contemplation were enough.  I wanted to have a few minutes with the hollow itself.  An iron ring, extracted from the creek, when the junkyard, which once occupied this land, was being cleaned up, is interposed between school house and gazebo.

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The garden area of The Hollow is marked by ruins of the junk yard office, of all things. The boardwalk leads through the garden, and down to the arroyo, which has a waterfall, in times of heavy rain.  There was no waterfall today, though.

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This little spot reminded me of small crevices that I used to fancy my “caves”, when I was a little boy in Saugus.

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Here, the official trail ends, but I am willing to bet that there are plenty of kids who have made their way quite a bit further north, along the creek bed.

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My Sedan visit was capped by a salad bar and sandwich lunch, at Seasons Rotisserie, a solid little place, with a handful of regulars, three of whom had just returned to Sedan, from several years elsewhere.  Two sisters, from Ohio and Pennsylvania, were on a road trip as an homage to their late father, who grew up in a small Kansas town.  They were visiting several such towns, in Kansas and Oklahoma.  I was glad to be able to tell them about The Hollow.

This part of Kansas is favourable with hunters, as is illustrated by this acrylic painting, on Seasons’ wall.

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I later learned that there is a sizable property, Red Buffalo Ranch, that caters to outdoorsmen.   If you happen by Sedan, the ranch is, no doubt,  also worth a visit. I might check it out, one of these trips.

Arkansas City (pronounced the way it looks), saw me pass through, without so much as a by-your-leave. It was getting late, and  I was concerned about checking in with my friend, J.E., in Enid, OK.  He is hanging in there.  I also wanted to stop in at Da Vinci Coffee Shop, as the owners were such welcoming hosts, the last time I was there.  I needn’t have bothered.  The owners weren’t there, and the baristas were a bit surly and suspicious of me and my out-of-state car.  You never know who will greet you.

After several minutes talking with John, I headed further west, to Mooreland, which is just shy of the northwest Oklahoma cow town of Woodward.  Mooreland Motel and Cafe is run by a tough, but gracious, grandma, who proudly showed me pictures of her “babies” and said she was closing for the night, so she could go be with them, and I would be the last guest to check in.

I think I like Mooreland, quite a bit.

 

 

 

Tales from the 2016 Road: Back to the Texas Panhandle

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July 1, 2016, Amarillo-  Any road trip that involves I-40 will entail a stop in Amarillo- at least as long as Texas Tidbits is around to spin a yarn or two.  Wes has been a friend for about ten years now, since I started reading his recollections of his town as it was, in the heyday of Route 66.

Southwest 6th Street, below Georgia Avenue, is a pleasing remnant of that time, and may as well be called Amarillo’s Fun Zone.  It reminds me of the North Side, in Fort Worth, or old downtown Nashville.

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Southwest 6th Street, Amarillo

The Goldenlight Cafe and Cantina is a good place for old men and young ladies to see each other as human beings, in search of an appreciative listening ear and reassuring arm around the shoulder- so I’m told.  The folks who were here today seem to get along well, and the photo board shows many more, of people who have befriended one another, over the years.  Wes has taken to this place, and its regulars, since Blue Front became a more upscale establishment.  Oysters for breakfast don’t quite cut it, in the Amarillo he calls home.  We each had our choice of hamburger, and shared a “small” basket of fries.  (Remember, this is Texas.)

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Interior of Goldenlight Cafe and Cantina, Amarillo

Wes was a bit more pensive than usual.

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Wes, in the Goldenlight

After lunch, I drove Wes over to another of his favourite haunts, the Dragon Bar.  It’s a small neighbourhood joint, close to I-27.  Wes pointed out a mural, across the street.  He said it was designed by an attorney who organized the Freedom Project, which focused on getting innocent people released from prison, a while back.

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Street mural, 15th Street, Amarillo

Wes was tired, after a fashion.  So, bidding him farewell, I headed towards Oklahoma, but via the upper Panhandle, stopping by Lake Meredith, a popular local boating site, west of Borger.

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Lake Meredith, TX

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Lake Meredith, TX

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The wild prairie, east of Lake Meredith, TX

There is much else worth exploring and photographing, in the rough remnants of glaciated North Texas.  It was getting on in the day, though, and Enid, OK was still ahead.

NEXT UP:  Da Vinci, Plant in the Window and Art Deco