Blowhard, Esq. writes:
This is the sixth installment of my series about driving cross-country during the coronavirus crisis. Click here for first post, here for the second post, here for the third post, here for the fourth post, and here for the fifth post.
Driving through the desert is one of my favorite things.
In Santa Fe, while I was chatting with the front desk guy — I forget how the topic came up — he informed me that northern New Mexico is the black tar heroin capital of the United States. I wonder if that was a factor in Vince Gilligan’s decision to relocate BREAKING BAD from Riverside, California to Albuquerque. Aside from the sweet tax breaks, of course.
I’ve been to the Petrified Forest before, but not in decades. Considering the gates were closed, I guess I still haven’t been there in decades.
Finally, some shots of the open road.
Flagstaff was cold and windy, conditions that are typical according to the guy at the hotel. There was snow on the ground here and there, those stubborn piles that don’t melt for a week because they’re in dark corners that don’t get much sun. Also, I didn’t realize that its elevation is 6,900 feet while Santa Fe’s is 7,200, both significantly higher than Denver. My brother could immediately feel the difference when breathing, but neither city affected me at all and I’m someone who regards aerobic activities like running to be pure torture.
Flagstaff felt similar to Santa Fe — roughly the same population, roughly the same type of people. (At least as far as I could tell. I admittedly spent a pretty short time in both and Yet despite their similarities the landscape and architecture are distinctive. Flagstaff, in the middle of a forest, feels more like a mountain town and its buildings reflect that. For whatever reason, there were a lot more cars driving through downtown compared to places like Santa Fe and OKC.
In the next and last installment, we make the final push into California, where I’m finally reunited with a decent taco after five years in exile.