July 25th. Vernon to Amarillo

Got up early and went for a walk around Vernon, a curious place which may or may not have seen better days. Most of the shops on the only main street were closed down, a gym with a boxing ring was up a side street and going up this side street I came across the residential area, a lot of the houses were boarded up and some of the vacant lots were littered with broken bottles. The houses that were still being lived in were making an attempt to cling on to some kind of normality, some had given up and were acquiring the collection of tell-tale junk that spells indifference – broken-down cars in the drive, plastic flowers planted in the garden, old car seats as sofas on the front porch, abandoned toys and overgrown gardens. We set off for Amarillo and the landscape is changing oh so imperceptibly, flatlands and fewer trees, cattle ranches and open spaces. We passed through some pretty towns, Childress, Memphis (not the Elvis one) and Claude with their shops, banks and people going about their everyday business. There were antique shops, a curious concept this in the States. Anything over three years old is considered an antique, well maybe I exaggerate but most of the stuff wouldn’t make a jumble sale although there were a few pieces of kitsch I wouldn’t mind having. We hit Amarillo and checked into a ‘Motel 6’, one of the cheaper chains but it’s good, clean and suits our needs though there is no fridge so we had to finish all the beer in the cooler. We then decided to visit some of the sites, most famous of which is the Cadillac farm where some chap – A millionaire called Stanley Marsh offered the space to a San Fransisco collective to come up with something, so they buried a row of Cadillacs nose down in a field. They have since been spray-painted by everyone and I think it’s the only thing that holds them together. We then stumbled across a wonderful bar and grill called ‘Applebees’ at 5630 West Amarillo Boulevard and we tucked into some delicious burgers and quaffed a few beers. It’s well worth a visit, a classic sports bar with great food, wonderful cocktails being concocted by Mike, the general manager and the charming Elena behind the bar looking after us. In fact we didn’t want to leave and debated abandoning the car along with the Cadillacs and chaining ourselves to the bar but sense got the better of us and we (I) dropped the car back to the motel and we walked about a mile to ‘Cadillac Jim’s’ a local Texan steak house and bar. When we got there the bar was in full swing with a band pumping out classic rock (‘More cowbell’ they roared at one stage), though they did mention Dan Fogelburg I don’t think they played any, the place was hopping with the Friday night locals, out for a bit of devilment. I realised that this is probably the furthest I’ve ever been from the sea – strange the ‘Amarillo effect’. We didn’t make it to 6th Avenue which is on old 66 and where all the biker and cowboy bars are, but Albuquerque awaits