[Holbrook to Barstow? That’s almost 450 miles! I’ll get to that in a minute.]

Must be in the Southwest:

Moisturizing conditioner: check.
Navajo squash blossom necklace: check.
Cactus identification guide: check.
Purse containing hot and urgent tourist dollars: check.
All on a Kokopelli coverlet: check.

After I rose from a dead person’s sleep caused by a Benadryl (Molly and I have been sneezing at some kind of SW flora since Santa Fe), we grubbed our motel room breakfast special (quality coffee, hotpot oatmeal, granola bars, Girl Scout Cookies) and dashed.

First stop: The Painted Desert (inside the Petrified Forest National Park.) Holy Guacamole, will you look at that vista?

There’s a teeny tiny hiker hidden in the picture to show scale. If you can’t find him, click on the photo for a closer view.

We took these photos at the Painted Desert Inn, a lodge that was rebuilt in the 1930s by the Civilian Conservation Corps. There are many fine craft details.

Skylight.

Hand-carved radiator cover.

I want to live here.

Exterior.

There are a couple beautiful murals by Hopi artist Fred Kabotie; fortunately, his paintings are some of the main reasons that the lodge has not been torn down. When you want to preserve a location, have a famous artist paint on the clay walls!

Critters!

Even though many of us would give our right lung to stay at the Inn overnight, at the time being it’s just a great stopping point with a gift shop to die for. Our guide, Ranger Tiffany, gave us a great tour, even though it was her second tour as a guide, ever. Thanks, Ranger Tiffany! Now, onto the forest that gave this park its name.

What’s that? You want to see some Triassic Period petrified wood? Well, here you go.

The landscape changed every minute; the filtered light from the late-winter sun made for a movie-set effect that was fantastically weird.

At almost every single town and Park that we have been to on this trip, we were informed that that very day was the first springlike weather they had experienced. Guess we brought spring to the Southwest! Yay us.

By the way, if you steal a piece of petrified wood, horrible NASTY AWFUL things will befall you. Seriously.

People regularly send back petrified wood after taking it. In the case of CS: “My life has been totally destroyed since we got back from vacation.” You have been warned.

Enough excitement for one day? I don’t think so! We got to La Posada in Winslow just in time for lunch — the best lunch of our trip.

I didn’t take pictures of my food, since I ate it so fast. It was a lamb pozole. Some of you may remember as a resolution I stopped eating baby animals. Ahem. For this horrible (and delicious) transgression, I shall not eat meat for a full week after I get back. A little late Lent action.

Ceiling beams.

La Posada is a “Tranquil, Art-Inspired Hotel” that is weird and beautiful and unique. The art of Tina Mion (a hotel co-owner) is featured throughout the hotel, and she is a stone-cold genius. Her First Lady series is really, really good. I wasn’t allowed to take pics of the art, so you may have to buy me one of her prints. Thanks!

Window.

Thank you to Curtis, old college chum, who recommended this stop. I owe you a Michelada next time I see you.

It was a big day of tourism, followed by a big afternoon of driving. We wanted to fit in as many sights as we could before we got stuck in the “dead area” of our route between Needles and Los Angeles.

No offense to our state of California, but there ain’t nothing going on in that area on the 40. From Winslow, Kingman was too short a distance to stop for the night, Barstow was too far. So we went to Barstow.

We found a motel, changed rooms (but only once) and found the one non-chain restaurant of interest, Idle Spurs Steakhouse. After driving, in pitch black night, into super-shady deserted Barstow outskirts (fully believing that the iPhone was deceiving us and luring us to our death) we found quite a huge and awesome place.

Too hungry to take photos of:

• The late-1970s vintage bar, complete with macrame and full on “Regal Beagle” vibe
• The waitress who offered us grated egg (from a cylindrical egg grater) for our salad, and pepper spooned from a bowl
• Gigantic mugs of beer
• Massive charred meat with massiver potato servings
• Many families all gussied up for their Special Night Out.

In other words: perfect.

No quote of the day, sorry, but I will regale you with last night’s dream:

We were on this trip, but were chaperoning a high school field trip at the same time. In order to entertain them, Molly and I put on some salsa music and started dancing. Nothing special until M grabbed my arm, lifted me till I dangled above the floor, and spun me like a top. Thanks, M!

Tomorrow: the end of the road. Sob!

• See all the pics on my flickr photostream
• Go to Day 9