I needed a cup of Joe to keep me homeward bound. I stopped in this tiny town and am at the only place in town, having good coffee and talking with the old timers. I love this stuff.
“Frosty” is talking about his trucks and Dick gave me some sage advice as he struggled to stand with his cane and the help of his granddaughter: “don’t have a stroke.”
Coffee was a little pricey, though. Charged me a dollar for two cups and I had to help myself.
I’m thinking if I sit here long enough it’ll be happy hour and I’ll only have to pay fifty cents!
I'm just a guy who finds the world an interesting place and likes to capture certain moments with a camera. They aren't for sale, or anything. I just like them. Well, usually. I've taken a lot of photos I don't like, as well.
.svg){kind=small}
.svg){kind=small}
.svg){kind=small}
I stopped along the back roads I was taking home in a little ghost of a town named Prescott. I let Biggie stretch her legs while I had a cigar and enjoyed the quiet of the neglected baseball Diamond on the edge of town. As we sat there, I watched a young father giving his toddler a ride on his motorcycle. Around the block he went...then again....
I’ve had a wobble when I get over 65 since I started, but I’ve not really worried about it as I’m generally going slower than that on the back roads. Well it got worse coming out of Brownfield, TX, so decided to find a place.
Day Five: I finally made it to Route 66! Can anyone guess which motel I’m staying in tonight?
.svg)
