October 3, 2024

Amarillo by 5:02 pm. 845 miles of cotton fields, Amish races, leaning water towers and windmills along Route 66 until we reached an item on my bucket list. Cadillac Ranch. I’m not saying she was disappointed. I just don’t think she appreciates the fine arts. Perhaps I should have just shot for Amarillo by morning.

October 4, 2024

New Mexico may be The Land of Enchantment, but not necessarily where the deer and the antelope play.

We haven’t seen any deer, just a lot of cows so far. They didn’t appear to be very playful because it looked like they were on break as we flew by.

The same could be said for the antelope. They were few and far between and the ones I saw were hanging around the salad bar chomping on grass.

Speaking of grass…

Apparently New Mexico has gone green. Kinda. They have legalized cannabis as evidenced by billboards along the highway.

Grasslands ahead. Freedom awaits!

This Buds for you!

Get high and lifted up.

Weed. It’s not just for breakfast anymore.

There were others, but the ones I listed caught my eye. We came out here for the balloon festival which begins tomorrow, but it appears balloons won’t be the only thing getting high.

A fellow at the hotel’s breakfast bar overheard us talking about our trip to the balloon festival and asked me if I was going up.

I told him, “No. The closest thing to getting high I’ve done at my age has been going in for a colonoscopy.

“And I’ll guarantee you that wasn’t anywhere near the land of enchantment.”

Oh well, the pilot of my Honda Pilot is reminding me that we have to turn in early tonight because we’re getting up at Three so we’ll be able to find a parking place at the festival, which begins at Five.

Three o’clock in the morning will come quickly. Watching folks getting high is hard on an old man.

October 5, 2024

Alas, we planned for almost every situation. Almost.

Yesterday we arrived in Albuquerque early enough to make a trial run to the balloon festival grounds just to check out the route and see how long it would take us to drive there.

We were delighted to find it was only ten minutes from our hotel! We had planned out our route perfectly.

Still, not to take any chances we went to bed early and rose at three o’clock this morning. We showered, threw on our clothes and were in the car by four.

Meanwhile, as we slept the roadblock fairies came out to play. Barricades were everywhere we turned this morning. We, along with 100,000 other poor souls that were going to see the early morning balloon lift off jammed onto the streets and sped down the streets at a whopping five miles an hour. Ten minutes turned into an hour.

One of the first things on our agenda when we arrived was to grab some food and coffee.

Twenty five bucks for a coffee, a bottle of water and a breakfast burrito that we split between us seemed a little pricey, but it was what it was. When in Albuquerque…

I’ve had a lot of bad coffee while working almost forty years of swing shift, but the cup I had this morning put them all to shame. The burrito? Questionable at best. Neither one of us could finish our half.

We made it through the predawn drone show. It was wonderful! Ten stars, if not more.

Then the bottom nearly fell out. I’m not talking about a little rain. We spent the next hour back at the entrance where dozens of portable restrooms were located. Just the moment we thought it was safe to leave and return to the festival… it was time to run back to the port-a-johns. We visited six of them.

After the tsunami finally settled down we could see the balloons being inflated and rising into the air from our new home at the port-a-Johns. So off we went feeling more like ourselves than we did before.

Now I know why they handed out survival guides as we came through the gates. Bless their hearts.

I’ll let the pictures tell the rest of the story, though pictures cannot begin to describe how beautiful everything was. The sky was full of every color imaginable. I’ll even say it was almost worth a bad cup of coffee and a not so good burrito.

Almost.

October 7, 2024

As we were leaving Albuquerque on our way to the Grand Canyon I knew it was going to be an interesting day because He showed us a sign.

The ‘Immaculate Conception Parking Lot’ sign.

I took a double look at it because it seemed a little bit off to me. I guess they have other ideas in New Mexico. After all, it is the land of enchantment.

Not far away from Albuquerque I saw another sign on the side of the road that said, “Wildlife crossing when lights are flashing.”

I asked my pilot, “How do they know? Do they have to push a button, like when you cross a street?”

I would have taken pictures, but the pilot flies at a different attitude. She doesn’t slow down and she doesn’t back up. Any decent pictures I take while the Honda is flying down the road are pure luck and subject to editing.

Trees were few and far between. So imagine my surprise to see another sign “National Forest” ahead.

I suppose is kinda like the Bible verse, Where two or more are gathered in….”

We crossed the Continental Divide in the Apache Reservation, and believe it or not there was a mesa in the distance with smoke rising from it.

I noticed that my ATT server had no bars. I mentioned to the pilot that I believed I had found out why they use smoke signals in the west.

She didn’t say anything. She kept flying.

Have you ever noticed that most of the really interesting things are on the opposite side of the car?

That was where I saw Hell’s Wash Haunted Trail. She never slowed down. In fact, I believe she sped up.

A miracle happened when we were passing through Teec Nos Pos. I saw a sign pointing north to Four Corners and asked her if she’d turn around. I really wanted to see it. So, the pilot performed a detour and we visited the spot where Utah, Colorado, New Mexico and Arizona meet.

Evidently it’s on Native American land. They charge you for seeing the spot where the four states come together. I felt like I’d been scalped.

After driving away a rock popped up and hit the windshield. We both jumped like we’d been shot. For a moment I thought someone was wanting to play cowboys and Native Americans, but I decided it was probably a car.

I see a new windshield in our future.

We drove past the lower part of Monument Valley and saw some breathtaking scenery before reaching the Grand Canyon in time to hike up a trail and watch the sunset.

I marvel at His handy work. It was a good day.

If you don’t know where you are going any road will take you there. (Old Native American proverb)

After breakfast at the hotel restaurant takeoff was at 8:30 a.m. from Navajo Land parking lot followed by an emergency landing at a local grocery store for bread and Cheetos. She needed bread, I needed Cheetos. There are no peanuts on this flight.

Note to self: It could be a sign if you see this posted on restaurant’s restroom wall, “Do not spit food or anything else into the urinal. It could cause plumbing issues.”

My thoughts are, if someone is spitting food into the urinal at the restaurant they are most likely trying to prevent plumbing issues.

Once we reached cruising attitude I began to notice signs along the highway, Page 66, page 55, and so on. Then a light clicked on in my head and I realized there was a town up ahead named Page. A writers dream town. Unless you’re concerned with word count.

We’ve all heard about Cracker Barrel. How about Cactus Barrel. We passed one in Kalibito, Arizona.

Pay no attention to some of the names in the west. Buckskin Wash was dry. So were all the other washes and creeks. If rocks were water everyone out here would drown.

After lunch the control tower diverted us down two wrong runways. Luckily, me being an excellent copilot, I caught their error and was able to get back on track to Zion National Park.

I cannot begin to tell you how relieved the pilot was that we diverted a near disaster, and since I was sitting in the copilot’s seat, I too, was thrilled.

The Honda pilot announced there would be a bit of turbulence prior to entering the park and coming in for a landing. She was right. Again. The last twelve miles were like a roller coaster.

Thankfully, neither one of us had to pull out the air sick bags that we keep in the glove box.

Zion National Park was breathtaking. I believe I like it better than the Grand Canyon. It was well worth the flight. I took so many pictures it will be difficult to pick just a few good ones to share.

On a positive note, we found where the buffalo roam, rams wander, and deer play chicken in the highway.

My phone has switched to SOS mode, so I’ll forgo dialogue and share some pictures.

Tomorrow we travel to Bryce Canyon. I’ll bet we see more rocks.

October 8, 2024

Last night we stayed in the Tropics. Technically, it was the little town of Tropic, but it was close enough. The air conditioner in our room didn’t work so we had to open the window.

Sunrise from Bryce Pioneer Village Motel was unique to say the least. We could see clouds dumping rain on hills fifty miles away with the sun coming up in the background.

I had hoped we weren’t going to experience another breakfast burrito moment after eating at Rustlers’ Restaurant this morning. However, our

departure from gate fifty at 9 a.m. was slightly delayed due to greasy hash browns.

After reaching a driving attitude of 6,660 feet my pilot leveled off heading towards Calf Creek Falls. Evidently they moved the falls or misplaced them. Nearly sixty miles into our journey we gave up and went back to Bryce Canyon.

Highway 12 was as crooked as a politician (With the exception of my friend, Darlene Bane. She’s an exception. Plus, she’s retired.) until we rose to 7,600 feet. The road had so many curves and switchbacks cruising along at a brisk 25 miles an hour was pushing it.

The sign to Hell’s Backbone tweaked my interest, but I was informed we weren’t turning around and going to hell because there wasn’t a landing strip at that location.

We made it to Bryce Canyon National Park around eleven, put the Pilot in a hanger and took the shuttle the rest of the day. We figured that the driver would do a better job of getting us where we wanted to go than us flying by the seat of our pants.

I thought the Grand Canyon and Zion Canyon were phenomenal Bryce Canyon beat them all. The views as we walked along the rim were incredible.

My daughters may refer to me as elderly, but after hiking the rim which is 8,600 feet above sea level I would beg to differ.

Pictures cannot do justice to everything we saw today, but I’ll share them anyway.

P. S.

We learned there were vast differences between Heebie Geebies and Hoodoos. You may want to Google Hoodoos.

October 9, 2024

Day eight of our wing and a prayer tour. Today we fly by the seat of our pants to Capital Reef National Park.

Our last night in the tropics was cooler. Still, there was not a working air conditioner in our room, but it was nice with the window open. An extra allergy pill and all is well.

My father would be scratching his head seeing the restaurant we had breakfast at this morning. Hay hooks, harnesses, mule blinders, saddles and wagon wheels decorated the walls.

However, this was the same man who allowed a pony into the kitchen to eat corn on the cob when his granddaughter came to visit. My mother was livid, fearing it would leave hoof prints on her linoleum.

At 9,600 feet above sea level we began to see Aspens. Sadly, their colors had already peaked.

This was open range country and we have a few pictures to prove it. Cattle crossing signs and cattle gates were all along the highway.

Each of the national parks in Utah has had something different to experience. Capital Reef was no different. We saw petroglyphs, natural arches, bridges and narrow passages through massive boulders. The colors were indescribable. There has been no doubt in our minds who created this magnificent scenery.

We hiked just over five miles today. Two of them will be felt tomorrow and the day after, of that I am certain.

Even though we are having a wonderful time we cannot forget that we are blessed while others are hurting from hurricane Helene. Tonight we pray for them and the people who are in the path of Milton. May our Father grant them comfort and strength.

Here a few of today’s memories.

October 10, 2024

Rimrock Inn sat on the edge of a small plateau and faced a miles long wall of red cliffs. We didn’t even try to use the air conditioner. It turned cool so we were glad the heat worked.

I awoke at 2:30 this morning after having dreamt I was crawling through a desert. Instead of dying of thirst I was dying for something to eat. I was so hungry I could have eaten a fried roadrunner. Maybe even a grilled coyote.

That’s about the time I woke up, and true to my dream I was starving. I looked at my phone and saw it was only 2:30 in the morning. Breakfast was at least five hours away. There was nothing to eat in the room, and I realized that I was going to die. All the snacks were still out in the Pilot parked on the runway.

I was lying there wondering why I was so hungry and began thinking about what I had had for supper.

We had stopped at a little burger joint named Slackers. The sign said that they had the juiciest hamburgers in town.

In their defense it was a very, very small town.

Eating my burger was like biting into an old rubber tire. One with about 60,000 miles of dirt road driving on it.

My mind flashed back to all those free range cattle we’d seen along the side of the highways. The ones that probably only ate tumble weeds and rocks.

Well, needless to say I didn’t finish my burger. Tina eats like a bird, so when she offered half of her BLT I jumped on it, but half of a sandwich won’t suffice a growing boy for long.

That was probably why I woke up in the middle of the night. Luckily, I noticed Tina looking at her watch and asked her if she’d mind if I went out to the Honda and grabbed a snack from the picnic basket.

As it turned out she had a pack of peanut butter crackers in her backpack. It was at that point I knew I’d live to see another day. Thank goodness for her Girl Scout training. I was in 4-H and learned nothing about carrying extra snacks into a motel room for the night.

I rolled over and slept until six, dreaming about breakfast. There was absolutely nothing open in Torrey, Utah when we loaded up and headed east towards Arches National Park. However, the coyotes were out in full force and screaming while we loaded the car.

My guess was that they were hoping to get the jump on the roadrunners.

Fifty miles down the road we found heaven when we pulled into a place in Hanksville called Dukes Slickrock Grill. A place with a cutout of John Wayne standing behind an ancient bar and cowboy music playing on the jukebox at 7:30 in the morning. I considered purchasing one of their tee shirts that said, “Where the Hell’s Hanksville.”

Upon landing in Arches National Park we discovered that we were supposed to have made reservations ahead of time.

My pilot was not discouraged. While we were stuck in line a line of vehicles half a mile long trying to reach the entrance gate. She went online and found a cancellation for 2 pm. Then she went online again and searched through half a dozen hotels and found a room.

Now you know why we call this our wing and a prayer tour.

I would highly recommend flying with this airline any day of the week. The downside is that the passengers have to pump the gas and clean the windshield. It’s strictly a no frills airline.

On an interesting note I learned that not far from the visitors center in the park is an active project to remove radioactive tailings from the Colorado river where an old uranium mine once operated. Even though my pilot has a special glow about her, I’d have to think long and hard before I’d take a dip in that water to look like a glowworm.

Just when we thought we couldn’t see anything more spectacular, we did. Magnificent arches, colors and rock formations were all around us. Boulders appeared ready to drop from cliff faces at every turn, and I suspect that they will someday. I’m glad they held on long enough for us to pass by.

October 11, 2024

Day ten.

Today is laundry day. We thought we’d go to the laundromat across from McDonalds here in Moab. It’s my best guess the laundromat was a burger joint at one time because the door handle was shaped like a spatula and had Burger King embossed in it.

By doing our laundry there we could start a couple loads, run across the street and eat breakfast while the clothes washed.

We met a very friendly lady who helped direct us to the machines designed for our size load.

Did I mention that she was very friendly? She was. And she was loud. Very, very loud. While she was telling us her life’s story I pulled out my phone, opened up my hearing aid app and turned them off.

Still too loud. I eased away while she had my pilot hemmed in and found a seat in the corner.

Still too loud.

I would have gone outside, but it had turned cool last night and the laundromat was a warm place to be, so I sat in my chair in the corner and listened.

I heard about her ex-husbands, her former jobs and where all she’d lived before. Then her phone rang. It was her mother calling to check on her. I found out her mom is 89 and calls every morning to see how she’s doing since she lives alone.

I could hear enough of the conversation to tell that they really cared for each other and they lived lonely lives.

It was at that moment I realized that we may be the only ones who would listen to her, or carry on a conversation with her that day. She needed to talk to someone.

What does a fellow talk to a strange lady about?

Well, I didn’t have to. My pilot had picked up on that long before I had and was doing a great job.

I prayed she would have a good day. I prayed others with better communication skills than me would cross paths with her today and give her a little bit of attention.

Around noon we flew into the Colorado National Monument and took a hairpin, twenty-three mile, Thelma and Louise road trip until we landed in Grand Junction, Colorado.

Colorado National Monument was nice, but after seeing the other parks in Utah it wasn’t anything spectacular. Still, it was worth the detour.

Traveling along on I-70 I was reminded that Colorado had legalized cannabis when my pilot flew by Bud’s Dispensary. Their landing strip was too high for us to reach, so we kept moving.

We happened upon an unusual rest stop east of Glenwood Springs that sat where Grizzly Creek poured into the Colorado River. The scenery was beautiful and I have pictures to prove it.

Another interesting thing was that there was a bus load of Japanese tourist visiting at the same time. We took some pictures for them as they congregated by the riverside.

When we walked up the hill to the rest area I noticed a large sign posted on the wall of the building; Pearl Harbor Memorial Rest Area.

I wondered if they knew.

Tonight we landed in Vail, Colorado. It appears I’ll have to put away my shorts beginning tomorrow morning, and we’ll sleep with the heat on again tonight.

Sadly it appears summer has come to an end.

October 12, 2024

Staying at the Evergreen Hotel in vail was interesting.

We didn’t want to get out in traffic again after arriving so we went downstairs to see what was available to eat. There we found The Altitude Bar and Grill. Chicken strips and tater tots seemed to be their specialty because a fellow can never get too much fried food.

After taking our seats and looking around we noticed we were the oldest people in the place. Most of the other people were in their twenties or early thirties. I didn’t recognize any of the music that was playing, but I was okay with that. Every now and then you should broaden your horizons.

After we ate and were leaving I happened to look across the lobby and noticed another restaurant with an older crowd sitting at the tables. It crossed my mind that their menus probably had something other than chicken strips and burgers.

When I went to shave this morning I turned on the hot water and waited. And waited. And waited.

It occurred to me that we were on the fifth floor and the hot water heater was probably in the basement. After a while longer I decided that It was most likely on the next block.

Finally, it got warm enough that I could shave. With that morning task out of the way it was time to shower.

Why can’t they keep things simple? While waiting to shave I had noticed instructions by the lavatory with instructions on how to use the shower. I thought it was silly until I stepped inside.

At that moment I regretted not getting an engineering degree in college. My major was communications and I was thinking of a few choice words to use on that blooming apparatus protruding from the wall.

I stepped out of the shower and tried to reread the operating instructions beside the lavatory. My glasses were in the other room on the nightstand by the bed, so I did the best I could.

Finally, I figured it out and took my morning shower. I really needed one after working up a sweat trying to get that darn contraption to work. If I had been a Catholic I would have probably had to go to confession by the time I made it out of the bathroom.

But I was clean. Clean and ready for another flight across America. At one point our cruising attitude was around 10,000 feet.

Not far into our flight my pilot brought it to my attention a sign on the side of the highway said, “Downhill grade next 44 miles. Check your brakes.”

I laughed and told her there was no way there could be a downhill grade 44 miles long.

I was wrong.

Between the brakes, the transmission and a busted windshield I may need to trade vehicles when we get back home to Kentucky.

But until then we’re shooting for Cheyenne, Wyoming.

October 13, 2024

Day Twelve.

And on the seventh day we rested and went to church at The Element with my brother-in-law and his wife.

It was the first time I have been back to Cheyenne in nine years, so it was nice to catch up with family.

Their church service today was unique in that it focused mainly on praise and worship.

Tonight we attended The Searchlight church and I was surprised that the service was on the same scripture I read earlier today in my daily bible study, the parable of the farmer sowing seeds.

Tomorrow morning my pilot is heading up north towards Minnesota. On our Fly By The Seat of Our Pants Tour we have no idea how long it’s going to take us.

The adventure continues.

October 14, 2024

Day Thirteen.

Take off from Cheyenne, Wyoming was at 10:05 this morning.

According to our GPS we’re supposed to travel 862 miles before we reach our final destination in Minneapolis. The pilot informed me we wouldn’t make it there today.

I asked myself, “What kind of cool things are we going to see today?”

It wasn’t long before we crossed the Nebraska state line and my pilot indicated there were some strange looking cattle if I looked out the right window.

I had to do a double take. Sure enough those would have been some strange looking cattle if they hadn’t been alpacas.

When we stopped for lunch at Arby’s there were a dozen or more men in uniform sitting at the tables. I asked one of them who they were and learned they were a search and rescue team on their way back home to Utah. They were returning from Florida where they had been helping with the aftermath of the hurricane.

At four o’clock in the afternoon I could answer the question I had asked myself when we started down the interstate this morning. What kind of cool things would I see today?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Perhaps this is why this area of our country is called the Great Plains. It was plain.

Western Nebraska is flat, wide and filled with nothing to see while traveling east along interstate 80. At least it was until we pulled over to get gas at a Sinclair station and I saw a dinosaur beside the pumps.

I thought about climbing on it until I saw a sign saying, Keep Off. How could they have possibly known that climbing on a dinosaur was on my mind?

Would they really arrest a seventy year old kid for sitting on a dinosaur? And would my pilot bail me out of jail? Probably not.

Another opportunity missed.

After getting back on the road again I happened to glance out the window and saw a whole prairie dog village standing beside the interstate.

They kinda reminded me of old Willie, the man who lived at the poor house in my hometown. He used to stand beside the road and wave at everyone as they passed by.

But the prairie dogs were not waving. They were just staring.

So far on our fly by the seat of our pants tour we’ve seen antelope, buffalo, bighorn sheep, mule deer, eagles and now prairie dogs.

Hopefully, Bigfoot will run across the highway before we make it home.

Once we flew into the eastern part of Nebraska I discovered what the term corn belt means. There were miles and miles and miles of corn as far as I could see on both sides of the highway.

Everywhere I looked combines were shelling corn and wagons were hauling it to trucks to be carried away to grain bins somewhere. This was still going on until well after dark when we pulled into a motel in Avoca, Iowa.

I’m glad they left the light on for us.

October 15, 2024

On the road again. Day fourteen.

I remember the first time I saw one of those new fangled windmills. I really thought it was something. Now? Not so much. They seem to be everywhere.

Between Avoca, Iowa and Des Moines there are hundreds of them. Maybe thousands.

I’ve grown to dislike them because they obscure the beautiful landscapes. We even passed a rest stop that had a single blade from one of the windmills mounted on a pedestal and standing straight up. I wondered why, but then guessed it was probably a monument to wind power.

Also, between Avoca and Des Monies we passed the birthplace of John Wayne near the Southern Raccoon River. There was no monument around there for the Duke, or Rocky Raccoon. I guess fiberglass fans rate higher than the Duke these days. How soon we forget.

After seeing Rocky’s River I thought perhaps I’d see Bullwinkle in the vicinity, but that didn’t happen.

However, just a little further down the road we passed Sleepy Hollow Sports Park. No. I didn’t see the Headless Horseman either. It did cross my mind, if the Headless Horseman played football at the park would he be required to wear a helmet?

Iowa seems to have a thing about naming streams of water after directional critters. How about the South Skunk River. If I was a skunk I’d be honored. But do skunks really care?

Still no Bullwinkle. He’s got to be around here somewhere. But there was a Story County Conversation Center. I wondered if they ever wonder where Bullwinkle ran off to. That would be the conversation I’d want to have.

Note to self: The next time I come to Southern Iowa I should bring a gas mask. Evidently corn isn’t the only thing they raise here. Hogs. The air was filled with the odor of hog farms.

Add another critter to the list of animals that I have seen on this flight across America.

By the time my pilot made it to Minneapolis the air had cleared to a tolerable degree and we landed at another one of my brother-in-laws’ homes. We have gone from eighty degrees when we began this journey to thirty-two degrees tonight. I believe it’s time to turn on the heat.

Leaves are falling and it’ll be time to drag out the yard rakes when we make it back to Kentucky this weekend.

Over the last two weeks I have marveled at His diverse creation and how beautiful this nation is from sea to shining sea.

Thank you for joining my pilot and me as we took this journey across America. May God bless you and this amazing country.

October 17, 2024

An hour and a half from home and this is what the moon looks like while traveling down the road.

_______________
Rick Algood
October 3 through October 17, 2024