Americana Travels, Pt 1: Escondido to Phoenix

Americana Travels, Pt 1: Escondido to Phoenix

May 12^th, 2012 – The day pretty much started off in a haze, and never really lifted until almost 3:00pm. I remember waking at the crack of some God awful time, taking Mongo (Skyler to those not in the know) to Mars (boarding school for those same uninitiated folk), and then returning home to finalize the prep work for the rest of the kids. I think litter boxes were filled, bowls of food were dispersed, we possibly said our good-bye’s to the children . . . I can’t be certain. I was having some sort of bizarre out of body experience until I got some food in me.

We finished all of our pre-departure errands at 9:53am, hitting the road with some coffee and breakfast sandwiches, bee-lining it up the I-15 to connect with I-10 to Phoenix. Ah yes . . . that beloved journey across the eastern desert of Southern California . . . God forsaken land that it is. We’ve made this trek a few times over the past couple of years, so the mystery has pretty much been stripped away. The six hours or so from Escondido to Phoenix is quite possibly one of the most boring strips of land on the face of the earth . . . though I’m sure folks along the Sahara caravans from Morocco to Cairo might argue that point with me.

But, this trip is a little different from those of the recent past. This time out, Pope and Mrs. Pope were on a mission. A mission to find some of the largest stuff in America. America . . . the Greatest Land of ‘em all . . . can I get an Amen!!! Sixteen thrill packed days on the highways and by-ways of America . . . from the California/Arizona deserts across the Southwestern plains to the Great Plains to  . . . to where? Well . . . this is what y’all are gonna have to continue reading to find out (I don’t want to give away all of the goodies . . . where’s the suspense in that?) I will give you a few spoilers for the trip. We’re looking to see the World’s Largest Ball of Twine (Not String) . . . and conversely, the World’s Largest Ball of String (Not Twine). There’s a giant Shuttlecock in our future (hehe . . . he said shuttlecock). Rumor has it that there will be some cars and trucks half buried in the ground. Those are just a few of the items that will span these sixteen days on the road. So . . . stay tuned and read if you like.

Back to our originally scheduled tale:

To break up the trek across the California deserts, we listened to a Patton Oswalt comedy disc. Thank God Mrs. Pope was driving coz’ I’ll be damned if I didn’t almost go blind, have a heart attack, and throw up from laughter. That dude is stupidly funny . . . check out the last few tracks from his album, Feelin’ Kinda’ Patton. That album killed a good forty-plus minutes of the drive and before too long, we were approaching Arizona by way of Blythe . . . yes, armpit of the world. We refueled at the Flying J on the Arizona side of the border and set a course east.

If you’ve never been through Arizona, you’re not missing much. I jest, of course. There truly is a beauty in all things, and in the case of the Arizona desert, you just have to squint a little harder than other places. The first thing that struck me was that cactus . . . lonely sentinels standing watch over a barren landscape of shrubbery and volcanic rock. The colors can also be beautiful, especially as the sun is starting to set or rise . . . the reds and oranges of the rocks seem to glow and are a fantastic contrast to the green of the surrounding foliage and the deep blue of the sky. To the untrained eye or the jaded traveler, the desert is a vast wasteland of brown . . . like all things in life, just a matter of perspective.

Our first stop in search of America’s Largest Whatever was a statue in the “lovely” town of Buckeye, Arizona. The statue is of none other than Hobo Joe! We’re not really sure on the history of this character, but this statue is standing guard in front of a some meat packing company, and if you’ll notice the finger placement on the guys right hand, you’ll note that the gesture looks like he’s smoking a spliff. Rumor has it that there once was a corn cob pipe in this particular hand that vandals had removed and were caught actually using to smoke illegal substances . . . stranger than fiction, right?

From there we traveled to the town of Goodyear, a town that was once founded by Goodyear Tires with a full factory and tesingt facility. Now, it’s a town that’s seeing a resurgence in popularity as a suburb of Phoenix with deluxe homes starting at $180K! We stopped in to the local Target to get some coffee from the resident Starbucks and noticed that the folks of Arizona are serious about the functionality of their signage. This Target, and at least one more in the greater Phoenix area, will not allow an individual to enter through an exit nor exit through an entrance. We tried. It was frowned upon. Plus, the doors simply would not open. This scenario naturally got me thinking that this would be a horrific place to get trapped during the zombie apocalypse! Bad enough to be stuck in a Target with a horde of flesh eating undead in hot pursuit . . . but insult to injury, stopping dead in ones tracks because of a stringent sign ordinance, well . . . pishaw! Moral of this story, don’t go to Target’s in Arizona when the undead are rising.

We left the death trap Target and keyed in on our second big ass item. We were on the hunt for a giant plywood baby that was said to be sitting in a field on the north side of the I-10. We drove along the frontage road and I caught sight of the back side of Plywood Baby. Mrs. Pope angled the car around, got us back on the freeway (west bound this time) and hustled back to get a snapshot of the wooden infant. This is where shit got fun! Cruising along at 60+ miles per hour in traffic, we quickly realized that a photo of the child had to be taken on the move . . . hehe! Take a look at the attached photo . . . not too shabby, eh?

We got back on the eastbound I-10 and made our way to the next destination . . . Carefree, Arizona . . . home of the World’s Largest Kachina Doll and the World’s Largest Sundial!

After making our way for almost an hour, we finally pulled up to this tiny residential district in the middle of nowhere. I seriously think the directions were along the lines of “make a left at the cow, proceed fifty paces, turn right at the cloister of boulders”.  Nonetheless, we found the statue, and this sucker was tall! And a creepy bastard on top of that. Mrs. Pope commented that there were nightmares in her future. I wasn’t about to turn in my man card by agreeing with her, but . . . yeah, I agree with her. Creepy.

After that, we were a hop, skip, jump . . . or maybe a healthy jaunt from the World’s Largest Sundial. Folks, this thing is bad ass! Sixty-something feet long and towering way over head, this sundial was a bit on the awe inspiring side of things. Marked in the ground in clock-wise manner were ornate stone numbers so that you could follow the shadow cruising across time and space. Check out the photo and you’ll see that it was about 5:20 in the afternoon when we were there. This monstrosity was nestled in a little shopping village that had a great booze emporium. Of course . . . we picked out a bottle of wine. A Malbac from Argentina, which Mrs. Pope proclaims as excellent . . . even threatening to put it in her travel mug and calling it cranberry juice.

From there, the quest for the big ass stuff was pretty much over . . . mainly because it was starting to get a dark, so we headed for the hotel in the heart of Tempe. After driving for something like forty minutes or so, we arrived, checked in, spread our gear around and made quick plans for dinner and other necessary goods. Once we finished running some errands, one of which was staking out the next day’s stop at a place called the Mystery Castle, we had dinner a pizza joint called Barros Pizza. They had gluten-free pizza, so made the short list of places for chow. Mrs. Pope’s pizza could have been better, could have been worse . . . but mine, woof! Awesome! Great fluffy crust, succulent chunks of sausage, gooey cheese . . . heavenly!

It’s 11:30pm as I write all of this and I’m sure there’s stuff I missed, so if I remember some muy importante information, I’ll include it in my next entry. But, for now, I’ve been on the go for eighteen hours after sleeping a mere six. I know that’s what they make coffee for, but man . . . I’m not feeling so good . . . I think I’m a little dehydrated. I know, right? Great way to kick off a sixteen day jaunt across America . . . get sick!

And with that . . . I’m calling it. See y’all tomorrow!

Quote of the day: "These pillows are redonkulous!"  --  Pope