8-1-2017 Albuquerque, NM

(Hi t-loggers!  If you post a comment as “anonymous” on the blog, please ID yourself so I know who you are!  Also, FYI, I am NOT getting used to the mouse!)

The remains.  Low-hanging branches are
not an rv's best friends!

Our personal sentry - a peregrine falcon

On Monday morning, we rose bright and early (Well, OK… ) and began our daily Bee repairs.  Today, Rob  climbed up top to install the new frig vent cover.  As we worked, fitted, drilled, handed up parts and tools, a beautiful friend joined us to keep an eye on the project.  He was screeching and surveying the situation but I don’t think they eat humans so we were in good shape.  At last, he got bored with nothing to eat around here and flew away.

Spouse’s antennae were in overdrive when he realized that the Unser Racing Museum is located in Albuquerque.  The museum traces the history of the Unser dynasty going back to the uncles and grandparents of Al and Bobby and continuing to the present and Little Al’s generation.  There are still several Unsers racing in minor series but none in Indy Cars or Nascar anymore.  Seems the addiction began with the race up Pike’s Peak beginning in the 50s although greatgrampa rode a motorcycle up there in 1915 before there was a road.  The Unsers claim about half the victories and trophies from that event.  There are two buildings that house the cars they all drove and one entire room filled to the gills with trophies and awards.  Yes, I’ve crashed an F-18 into an aircraft carrier but I have never driven an Indy car at Indy.  Rob wandered off and at once heard a loud engine fire up, chased down the racket and found Lindy in the simulator navigating the short chutes at 180 mph!  I finished 10^th of ten.  I’m no Unser but at least I didn’t crash!  Of course, now Rob had to drive.  He finished 7^th, show off!

 

Not MY trophy case!

Get high, avoid the marbles,
then, dive down into the turn, right?

Pass him, Rob!

Rob lived in Albuquerque for 3 years as a child and remembers the mountains, especially Sandia Peak, which was just across the field, back then.  He and Paul could ride their bikes to the mountain on the trails through the open barren desert.  There was no tramway.  It was built 6 years after the DeLaMare family moved away and now, there are entire communities populating the land all the way to the foot of the mountains and part way up. 

Do you see the car?  An impressive height, yes?

We’ve wanted to ride the Sandia Peak Tramway when out this way but it was either too crowded or the weather didn’t cooperate.  The tram will not run if the E-W winds reach 60 mph, the N-S winds reach 40 mph or lightning is present within a 5 mile radius.  Today, we hit the jackpot:  no crowds and no adverse weather conditions, well at least not right away.  The tram carried its passengers up 10,378 ft. to the summit.  There, we were free to scout around and try to identify landmarks below for as long as we wished.  But soon, there were raindrops.  Uh oh, a squall.  Time to go down.  The sky grew black.  It was streaked with lightning bolts and  deafening thunder claps were startling.  We love our Jeepster.  It can ford the washes and rivers that are normally streets.  (And did that refrigerator vent cover get installed in the nick of time or what?!)

Amarillo, TX is next.  We will stay but one night as we have found that there is not much to see or do in Amarillo.  (Although it’s been 8 years since we passed through.)  When the I-40 sent Route 66 to the ash heap of history, some small towns took advantage and created tourist attractions based upon the historical significance of Route 66.  Apparently though, residents decided that the freeway had relegated Amarillo to the same ash heap.  Bye bye Amarillo.  The one claim to fame is the Big Texan, a restaurant just off the highway which presents a peculiar offer.  If, in one hour, one eats a 72-ounce steak and all the sides which are served by backing a truck up to the table, the meal is free.  Seventy-two ounces of steak?  A potato the size of a football?  My Mom probably served a 4 ½ lb. slab of meat to an entire family of 12!  It is a merry saloon and hall filled with hundreds of hooting guests, but we can be satisfied with small portions and a cold brew.  Okey dokey then, let there be Amarillo.