We passed great yellow and black billboards advertising fudge, jewelry, ice cream, moccasins, and tacos, but my daughter opted for pizza she’d found advertised as the best thing to eat in Gallup. We went to a mom and pop pizza place in a shopping center full of stores that went bankrupt and disappeared elsewhere - Big Lots, Safeway, and a Sizzler. Did we travel back in time? 

We split a small, delicious, mouth-burning mozzarella pizza but didn’t finish it and brought the remains back to the man operating the hotel who accepted the still hot box. This hotel I vaguely recall had pretty black and white floral photography and mint green walls and smelled like oranges. We showered, slept, and had breakfast at the hotel in the morning. I had trouble figuring out the coffee machine, and my daughter commented on how everyone there was old. I hadn’t noticed. I guess I, too, am getting old. 

On the way to Flagstaff, we stopped at the Petrified Forest National Park after listening to the AM Radio instructions for visitors. I’m glad that we first stopped at the Visitor’s Center, because a grizzled man wearing a jacket covered in national park patches inside told us all about the America The Beautiful pass and talked us into buying one to save money on the parks. We wouldn’t otherwise have known to do so. The Indian woman running the center gave my daughter a polished piece of petrified wood and told her not to pick up any rocks or other bit of nature. Leave them be. The tactic worked - my daughter complied. 

We slowly creeped through the park to the sound of gravel under tires and just enjoyed the view. Blue skies, Billowy clouds. It’s twenty-five miles of canyons and Martian-esque shrubs. The inside of my car was soon coated with dust. You could write your name on the dash. We took pictures on edges, but not too close to edges. I took pictures of her taking pictures on edges. 

There’s another gift shop midway, and I bought a park passport where she could enter stamps and stickers. I also bought her a small stuffed crow she named Sir Bone Crusher. She hid Sir Bone Crusher in the sleeve of her sweatshirt, and she would pop him out at intervals and cackle, “I will crush your bones!” 

We walked on petrified fallen trees and examined the horizon with telescopes. We peered closely at crystals and glittering rocks. We kicked dirt with our shoes. A sign with a smiling rainbow cloud read “Return to your car by 5PM, or the coyotes will eat you.” 

“Do you think that’s real?” She asked, “Or do the people who work here just want to go home on time?”

“Yes,” I said. 

Trains passed in the distance and blew their horns that could be heard everywhere. The after-silence was in surround sound.