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Route 66 Redux (Cont.)

Day 3 >> Grand Canyon-Holbrook
We're back on I-40 in search of Route 66 remnants. In Flagstaff, we buy a copy of Route 66: The Illustrated Guidebook to the Mother Road, and follow it like a treasure map. With guide in hand, even Sam, the too-cool-for-this-trip 12-year-old, yells out, "Whoa, GIANT Twin Arrows!" as we pass the town of Twin Arrows, where 200-foot-tall wooden monoliths that look like they've been shot to Earth from Mars pierce the dusty parking lot of a boarded-up diner. Next comes Two Guns, where mountain lions, bobcats, and coyotes once represented the West in a roadside zoo. The day's hit is Meteor Crater park, the site where a speeding mass of meteoric iron and nickel smashed into the earth 50,000 years ago. After hiking around the giant, windblown crater, we have to drag ourselves away from the visitor center and speed on, stopping only to snap a family portrait on that corner in Winslow, Arizona. By now we've got the Route 66 bug bad, so we also track down what's left of the famous "Here it is!" Jack Rabbit signs that once harassed motorists for hundreds of miles on the way to the town of Jack Rabbit. Final stop is Holbrook, home of the original Wigwam Motel. We'd planned to spend the night in an authentic 1950s stucco tepee at the Wigwam, but chickened out, opting for Holbrook's Holiday Inn instead.

Day 4 >> Holbrook-Canyon de Chelly
East of Holbrook is Petrified Forest National Park, famous for its 225-million-year-old trees. By now the boys are sick of jumping in and out of the car, but the dinosaur museum inside the park is so good they can't help themselves. After ogling the dioramas, we wind our way through mammoth logs littering the Giant Logs Trail. We share a laugh over a guy videotaping the logs. ("Now that will be exciting!" Sam says, rolling his eyes.) Everyone agrees that the petrified trees are pretty amazing strewn across the desert, older than the dinosaurs, their ancient wood perfectly preserved.

We speed on across I-40 and then north on U.S. 191 for an overnight at Canyon de Chelly. We have a 75-mile drive ahead, but we love the landscape—at least my husband and I do. The backseat mood lightens at Hubbell Trading Post, a bright spot in the desert since it opened in 1876. James buys beef-jerky bits; Sam teases him that they look like dog food, and we have to concur. Our destination is the locally owned Thunderbird Lodge, where we camp out in our motel room, writing funny postcards.

Day 5 >> Canyon de Chelly-Albuquerque, New Mexico
We've signed up for the early jeep tour of Canyon de Chelly. I'd feared the group ride would be hopelessly hokey, but as we motor through the canyons in open-air six-by-six trucks, sheer sandstone walls towering above, giant treads splashing through shallow rivers, there's no question about it: This one's a home run. Sure enough, huddled under wool blankets while late-winter sun works its way down the canyon walls, both boys are thrilled to be here. We spend the morning exploring prehistoric Anasazi cliff dwellings and canyon walls etched with dozens of mysterious Indian petroglyphs. After lunch at the Thunderbird Lodge we head back down U.S. 191, and then pick up I-40 east again. Our final destination is Albuquerque, 200 miles ahead. In between are the Route 66 towns of Gallup, Grants, Cubero, and Laguna, and about ten thousand tumbleweeds. We might make another detour to explore the underground lava tubes of El Malpais National Monument. Or then again, we might not. And settling in behind the wheel, tuning in the local country-western station for another round, it occurs to me that this is about as good as it gets. We're packed like four sardines into a tin-can rental car and loving it, so go figure. Such is the allure of the all-American road trip.

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