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March 3rd, 2016, 07:40 AM
The year was 1967.
My wife and I were driving in our '67 Camaro 327 Dark Blue with white nose stripe from Greensboro, NC to Phoenix, Az where I was about to start a new job. We were about 30 minutes past Wildorado, Tx on Rt 66 (Interstate 40 signs were still in the future, of course the only real change was adding the second roadway and the signs; stll no overpasses and other roads just but into I-40 with just a stop sign.) and just had to stop to take pictures since there was absolutely nothing to see in any direction. I mean nothing; well except the trash can chained to the sign that said "Rest Stop No Facilities". I climbed onto the top of the car to get good views in all 360 degrees since coming from the East Coast we'd never seen a place where there was NOTHING to see.
No hills.
No trees.
No clouds.
No cactus.
No windmills.
No oil wells.
No farm houses.
No barns.
NOTHING. And NOTHING for as far as the eye see (and as we learned, for miles and miles more).
As I got down a scruffy (we will return to Scruffy in another tale) little black dog with big brown eyes crawled out from behind the tiny shade the trash barrel offered and came up to me. She lay down and then rolled over, tummy up. tail beating against the sand.
And that was where Brownie (those eyes) found us. She kept us safe and entertained (with the help of Cholla, more on Cholla later) for many, many years.
My wife and I were driving in our '67 Camaro 327 Dark Blue with white nose stripe from Greensboro, NC to Phoenix, Az where I was about to start a new job. We were about 30 minutes past Wildorado, Tx on Rt 66 (Interstate 40 signs were still in the future, of course the only real change was adding the second roadway and the signs; stll no overpasses and other roads just but into I-40 with just a stop sign.) and just had to stop to take pictures since there was absolutely nothing to see in any direction. I mean nothing; well except the trash can chained to the sign that said "Rest Stop No Facilities". I climbed onto the top of the car to get good views in all 360 degrees since coming from the East Coast we'd never seen a place where there was NOTHING to see.
No hills.
No trees.
No clouds.
No cactus.
No windmills.
No oil wells.
No farm houses.
No barns.
NOTHING. And NOTHING for as far as the eye see (and as we learned, for miles and miles more).
As I got down a scruffy (we will return to Scruffy in another tale) little black dog with big brown eyes crawled out from behind the tiny shade the trash barrel offered and came up to me. She lay down and then rolled over, tummy up. tail beating against the sand.
And that was where Brownie (those eyes) found us. She kept us safe and entertained (with the help of Cholla, more on Cholla later) for many, many years.