The road today took us from Amarillo, TX to Santa Fe, NM. We covered fewer miles today than on other days. But I think the landscape changed more rapidly and dramatically than on any day yet. And this really took me by surprise because, for most of the day, everything seemed pretty flat. I felt that I could see everything for miles, but then suddenly we would be passing a rock formation or descending into a valley. The view would be blocked, but when we emerged, things would look totally different.
Isn’t this often the way it is with life? We could swear that we’ve got a good handle on how things are, that we have the full picture. But then, seemingly out of nowhere, something will happen that causes us to see things from a totally different perspective. And once that happens, there is no looking back. G.K. Chesterton once said, “The whole object of travel is not to set foot on foreign land; it is, at last, to set foot in one’s own country as a foreign land.” I felt that this is exactly what I was doing all day long! Seeing my own country as I’ve never seen it before…over and over and over!
Most of the day was quite lovely. It was sunny and breezy and in the 60s for most of the day. But there was one area, just beyond Amarillo, that I found difficult to stomach. I should have expected something ugly up ahead when we passed three dead cows on the side of the interstate, just piled up as though they had been dumped. John and I looked at each other with a sort of shocked expression of, “Was that what I think it was?!?” Not long after this we came upon the first feedlot I’ve ever personally experienced. I’ve read about CAFOs (concentrated animal feeding operations) and the incredibly inhumane way that most of the beef and dairy products in the United States are produced. But experiencing one, even the small one we passed, even as a drive-by on the highway, absolutely sickened me. The cattle were crowded into pens with barely room to turn around. The stench was overwhelming. It bore no resemblance to the barn smells most of us associate with farm life. This was a reek I’d never before imagined. And it stuck with us for miles. Rudyard Kipling wrote, “The first condition of understanding a foreign country is to smell it.” I generally associate “smelling” a culture with its cuisine, or perhaps the local vegetation. What does this horrific odor reflect about a culture that tolerates the situation that produces it?
Blessedly, our day improved drastically after this experience. We’ve seen plenty of wind farms on our way west. But near Vega, TX we got to see one under construction. I don’t generally expect to see cranes out in the middle of a field that seems to go on forever. But these windmills are massive! How else could they be built?
Again, the people we meet along the way are endlessly fascinating. Russel, who we met at Russel’s Travel Center(!), was just passing through on his way from Santa Fe to Oklahoma. He was hauling a pickup load of wicker furniture, and pointed us to places to stop on the way to Santa Fe. Jerry, who works at a free car and nostalgia museum, whipped out a poster about a Chevy convention in Bowling Green, KY when I mentioned that my dad (and now my brother) had a ‘55 Chevy Bel Aire. Yolanda, our server at the little Mexican restaurant in Tucumcari, NM has been known as Yogi since childhood. She also does flower arranging which she picked up on YouTube and now has quite a thriving business. And three grandchildren, who are the joy of her life.
One lesson I learned today was not to blink! The roadside was chock full of wonderful sights. But they would appear and then vanish in seconds. We saw, for instance, a few pronghorn antelope just a few feet from the road. But before I could count them, they were gone. I tried for ages to snap a photo of one of the many older windmills dotting the ranches we passed. I finally mastered the trick of focusing and got a good shot just before we arrived in Santa Fe.
Maybe I just need to keep the memories stored in my head instead of freezing them with my camera…
We topped off our day with evening Mass at the Cathedral Basilica of St. Francis in Santa Fe. Because of preparations for Easter, Mass was held in the St. Joseph Chapel, just off the south transept of the cathedral.
I must say that attending Mass in these different churches scattered across the country is one of the highlights of the trip for me thus far. “I never weary of great churches,” said Robert Louis Stevenson. “Mankind was never so happily inspired as when it made a cathedral.” Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris burned yesterday, which gave a layer of poignancy to my visit today. I especially appreciate the great blessing I have to gather with God’s people wherever I may be in these incredible churches built to His glory.
“Enter his gates with thanksgiving,
and his courts with praise!
Give thanks to him;
bless his name.”
—Psalm 110:4