Aaah, the last part of my posts on the Route 66 journey. I’m ready to write about something else. Like my new city. We expected to see sandy desert in Arizona, but it wasn’t until after Flagstaff (and its snow) that we saw sand.

Arizona was more Native American culture. And fry bread. My new favorite carb. They make Navajo tacos, which are served on fry bread. Yum.

We visited the Petrified Forest National Park, which was neat. Let’s see if I can get this right. Thousands of years ago, when the trees fell, there was some sort of natural mineral (I want to say sulfur) that soaked into the fallen logs. It petrified them. Turned them to stone. Now the wood is brilliant shades of reds, oranges, browns and purples,  and litter the park.

Flagstaff was a great city. It was at a high elevation, and there was snow. It was funny, headed to California and it was getting colder. We ate amazing Thai food in what I think was their downtown tourist area. From there, we were officially off of our beloved Route 66.

As we approached Phoenix, it warmed quickly, and we saw plants. And sand. We were in the home stretch.

As we hit the California border, we had to stop for border patrol. Did I take a wrong turn? Is this Mexico?

Apparently we were so close to the border, they were still on the lookout for illegal immigrants. I warned my tanned son not to speak Spanish or he might get us in trouble. Only kidding. Sorta.

By the end of the journey I could not wait to get to my new home. And I did.

Route 66 with Mom and Max was a great adventure. A long and tiring one, but one we will all cherish, I am sure. Not many people brave the cross country journey, so we are of the few.