Iowa, Oh, Iowa
Yes, we’re back in Ames after another arduous trip that stretched over 2,000 miles and took us through such spots as Bakersfield, Tehachapi, Mohave, Barstow, Kingman, Flagstaff, Gallup, Albuquerque, Amarillo, Oklahoma City, Wichita and Kansas City.
We saw some quite-exquisite scenery, stayed in some mostly nice motels and paid outrageously high prices for gas in California — $3.95 a gallon. Those prices consistently decreased as we headed east — reaching $2.69 in New Mexico and Oklahoma.
Day One of our annual Trek to the Heartland started in Clovis on Tuesday, when we left, for good, the Airbnb that had served us so well during our four-month stay. We had a fine time there — our owners were outstanding — and we had gotten to know and like their cat, Denny, who somehow found his way into our place every morning. Denny knew that if he meowed at the kitchen door, I’d let him in. Perhaps he also knew I have a weak spot for cats.
On that first day, we drove down the 99 to Bakersfield and then onto the 58 for the trip over the mountains, through Tehachapi and Mohave. Then we motored through Barstow and onto the I-40, for the trip through desert landscape that is sometimes enchanting but often merely desolate. We passed through or near Ludlow and Essex — two towns that once were thriving but which now are on life-support. Essex made national news decades ago — in 1977, to be exact — when Johnny Carson had five of its residents on his “Tonight Show” because he’d learned the town had no TV service — none. Residents could not see signals from either Los Angeles or Las Vegas — and their burg was the last place in the United States that did not have access to TV signals.
I had seen that episode of “Tonight” when it aired — and as it happened, Sharon and I were planning an Arizona vacation at the time. So we drove into Essex and interviewed some townspeople about a week or so after their appearance on Johnny’s show. We got some great quotes — and when we returned home to Fresno after our trip, we wrote a piece in the Fresno Bee, giving a more personalized look at Essex residents than the wire services had in the wake of their TV appearance. And, of course, after Johnny had publicized their plight — the people of Essex received a piece of equipment called a translator on a nearby mountainside — which brought in the TV signals they had never seen. And remember, this was in ’77.
So this past Tuesday — after appropriate reminiscing about our experience in Essex — we crossed the Colorado River and began the long climb into Kingman. That’s a former Wild West town, a famous stop on the old Route 66 and the home of Andy Devine Avenue. Andy — the well-known cowboy star on TV and in the movies — was raised in Kingman, and his dad opened a hotel there. Unfortunately, Oklahoma City bomber Timothy McVeigh also lived there for awhile. There are no streets named after him in Kingman.
Our overnight stay at our usual Kingman place — the LaQuinta Inn — was memorable only because of what wasn’t there. In years past, it had a marvelous breakfast offering — everything from toast to bagels to scrambled eggs to bacon and sausage to yogurt to fruit — you get the idea. But now, those breakfasts are gone — killed by the coronavirus and the need to keep people from congregating during the pandemic. Our usual breakfast spot at the Inn was “roped off” with yellow tape — and the inn did not even offer takeaway breakfast bags. Perhaps the company that owns the chain had saved so much money by not giving breakfasts — they’ve decided to continue that practice. We’ll see.
Day Two of our trek on Wednesday took us into the lovely mountain town of Flagstaff. At nearly 7,000 feet — and surrounded by forests — Flag is one of those places you “could have” retired to — but never did. We ate on the deck of a snazzy little pizza shop that students at Northern Arizona University undoubtedly love. But fortunately for us, those students were long gone for the summer — and we had the deck — surrounded by pines — all to ourselves. And the pizza was good, too.
Then the I-40 took us by the town of Gallup. This one has a rich movie-making history, having been the site of many Hollywood westerns over the decades. But we are not film-makers, so we kept going — over the Continental Divide and eventually into Albuquerque. We overnighted at a motel that was across the street from a hip dining spot that had numerous restaurants and breweries. Naturally, we partook of some of the offerings — and the next morning, we were delighted that our motel had an actual, old-time breakfast offering. We did not go hungry in Albuquerque.
Day Three of our trek — Thursday — took us to Amarillo — a cattle-country way-station that we normally would hasten our way through, but which happens to have one of the best hamburger places anywhere. It’s called Blue Sky, and it’s right off I-40 as you enter town from the west. Yes, we gorged on burgers, fries and a milkshake for me and a root beer float for Sharon. Were we eating our way across the nation? Probably. But at our stage of life, why not? What else are we looking forward to?
By the time we reached the outskirts of Oklahoma City on Thursday night, we were exhausted and not at all hungry. 
But that did not stop us from walking next door to our motel to the same Braum’s ice cream parlor we had frequented so many other times on cross-country trips. Braum’s makes the best ice cream anywhere — with sincere apologies to the Blue Bunny folks in Iowa. And Braum’s prices are incredibly inexpensive. A big single-dip cone goes for $1.39. That is no typo. A giant double-dip cone goes for $1.99. Just a couple of nights earlier — at the Baskin-Robbins near our motel in Kingman — we had spent $5.99 for a single-dip cone — and it wasn’t nearly as good.
Day Four of our Eating Escapade found us heading off I-40 and onto Interstate 35, which eventually would get us to Ames. But first, we had an important stop to make in Wichita — lunch with Al and Sally Buch at Deano’s restaurant. Al was the best TV news director I ever worked with — and I worked with quite a few. We had gotten to know each other in Fresno — when he headed up Channel 24’s news operation and I was at Channel 30. But we never worked together until he hired me as executive producer at KPNX-TV in Phoenix.
It was a magical time there. Al had gone there as news director out of Fresno — and was turning a nothing station — KTAR, which changed its call letters to KPNX — into a powerhouse, toppling Phoenix’s long-time news ratings champ, KOOL-TV. At KPNX, money was no object — as it was no object, back then, at any TV stations that wanted to win the ratings. In Phoenix, we spent like heck, and we won the ratings like heck because we became the best.
At Deano’s, Al and Sally and Sharon and I had a fine conversation over a very tasty lunch. Actually, there were two sets of conversations, as is often the case when TV “guys” get together for lunch with the wives. Sharon and Sally talked about personal stuff, while Al and I carried on about the state of TV news, past, present and future. And did I say the food was good?
From Wichita, it was on to Kansas City and slightly beyond. We overnighted in Liberty — a northern suburb — and were delighted to have an upper-story motel room with “a view” — in this case, of the Kansas City skyline, miles away. By day, that view was striking — and by night, it was almost magical, seeing the lights of KC. And — almost as good as the view — the motel offered the best breakfast we’d had on our trip. It was a fine way to cap off days of eating and driving across our great nation.
From Liberty, it was only another three hours — “only” being a relative term, of course — into Ames yesterday. Somehow, we got all the “stuff” we had brought with us — some of it heavy — out of the car and up the three flights of stairs into our condo (no, there is no elevator) — got the water turned back on — and made our way to our Old Town neighborhood Fareway grocery store. There, a few people were wearing masks, but most were not. Weeks earlier, Iowa’s Republican governor had taken off virtually all restrictions related to the coronavirus — as many other Republican governors had. But Kim Reynolds had gone even farther — banning schools and local municipalities from imposing any kind of mask mandates — effective immediately.
And, truth to tell, Iowa’s coronavirus cases have declined significantly. And Ames probably is even better off — safer — than most other burgs around the state, given residents’ relatively high level of education (Ames is home to Iowa State University). And because ISU’s students — who generated a dangerous level of coronavirus spread last fall — have now mostly gone away for the summer — Ames and its residents are in the best “place” they could be. It’s a university town with no students — meaning much less vehicle traffic, no students to jam “our” restaurants — and a beautiful university campus that is virtually deserted, meaning we can stroll around it without any crowds.
So here we are — back in Ames for one more summer and looking forward to everything it has to offer. Here we come, Hickory Park and Cafe Diem. Here we come, Roosevelt Park and Bandshell Park, for your weekly band concerts. Here we come, Main Street — with your 100-year-old quaint buildings that now house so many boutique-style businesses. We’re here, Ames. Fasten your seat belts.