So, I spent the day in Tucumcari. I had an amazing breakfast at Kix on Route 66 (two eggs over medium perfectly runny on the inside, and bacon and hash browns all done perfectly crisp), researched a little bit of weather and rescheduled my hotel stays. Then took a quick drive down Route 66--the main hwy that runs through town--and visited Timeless Treasures, a vintage curio store that the owner of Historic Route 66 recommended.
I wandered into the shop and took my time looking at the random collection of things. An older gentleman sat behind a makeshift office area in the middle of the store. A younger heavyset man sat near to him but outside of the makeshift office area. A chopped trunk of a tree festooned with vintage cowboy hats stands in the front of the store. My eyes float from a white cast iron baby carriage to 50s vases and milk glass, an impressive antique bed, small heavy bound books, a soup tureen from the Occupied Japan era, contemporary tchotchkes littering the heavy wooden furniture, rocking chairs, several nice complete sets of vintage dishes. The older gentleman sitting in the front of the store calls out to me as I wander around."Would you care for some water or soda?"
"Oh no thank you. I'm fine. But thanks."
"I can make some coffee, too, if you'd like that."
"Oh no, really. I'm fine, but thank you."
I continue poking around, but soon circle through the entire store. The older man continues to talk to me.
"So where you from?"
"Los Angeles."
I hear a sound of surprise acknowledgment come from the younger man.
"Really?" the older gentleman continues. "And where are you headed?"
"Tennessee."
"Ah, that's a good place. I have relatives there."
"My friend has a farm there. But I've been waylaid because of the storm. But I love it here. Tucumcari is so charming!"
"Too-cum-carrie," he corrects me. I've been saying it wrong. I've been pronouncing it Too-cum-kahr-ee.
"Oh! Is that the way you say it?"
"Too-cum-carrie," he says, nodding his head. "And do you know how it came to be called Tucumcari?"
"No, I don't."
"Well, there was a chief who had a daughter named Cari and a young brave named Tucum and another brave, but I've forgotten his name. Anyway, they both wanted to marry Cari and the chief made them fight for her. Tucum was killed up on a ridge somewhere and Cari followed him and died, too. A little like Romeo and Juliet."
"That's a great story. So there's a great love story behind Tucumcari."
"Yes, there is."
We talk for awhile. He's a charming man. A little later into our conversation we're interrupted by the phone ringing. I hear him saying something about going to get barbeque. He hangs up the phone and asks if I like barbeque. I tell him that I'm going to have to start liking it because I know that that may be all I have to eat where I'm headed. He and the younger man both laugh and my new friend asks if I'd like to join them. He says that a local guy and his wife have started making a great barbeque that I simply can't pass up. I've just from breakfast so I tell him that I'd have to do so later, but that it sounds great. He gives me directions: "You see the Chinese restaurant on 66? Well, there's a street right there called Lake Street. L-A-K-E. Just make a right and then go up about a block or so. You'll see a tractor supply store on your left and then a little ways down a cow feed store. That's where the barbeque is. He's got a little orange tent set up and all the regulars go and sit on wooden benches and eat their barbeque. You don't want to miss it." I thank him and take note of his directions. Before I leave, we joke about how I need to find a cowboy hat and he gets up from behind his desk and helps me to try on the various cowboy hats hanging on the trunk of the tree. I find a great cream colored felt Stetson with the most beautiful, light little feathers in its brim. I stick it on and fall-in-love with it, but I can't shop right now. I'm running out of money because of this damn storm and I don't have the guts yet, anyway, to go traipsing around in a cowboy hat. We say our goodbyes and I go on my way.Later, I do check out the barbeque and, once again, I'm enchanted by the store.
It's a mishmosh of cowboy gear, auto and tractor supplies, local food items and lovely perfumes that I covet (there's a honey scent and honeysuckle one that I love), colognes for men with names like "Silver Spur" and "Stampede," leashes for dogs, beef jerky, a stuffed bobcat, an elk head and a two-headed calf. I wander around as the courteous man at the counter goes to fix me a plate of barbeque. I have to wait awhile, but I am not disappointed. I think it's the best bbq I've had--tender and juicy. And a gorgeous helping of peach cobbler to bat. I'm definitely going home 20 lbs heavier.I go back to the motel to eat my dinner because the winds are too strong to eat outside, even though it's sunny and beautiful outside. I kill some more time on the Internet and then decide to go back out and take some photos of the "historic downtown area." I'm beginning to love anything with the name "Historic Downtown" because the area speaks volumes of times past and that are no longer. The historic downtown area is just a few blocks away, but unlike the "busy" main highway of Route 66, it's practically deserted.
I love this place, but admit that I'm itching to get back on the road. Went a little batty tonight trying to kill time, but I tried to make the most of it preparing for the drive tomorrow. The farther I travel the farther I am from my loved ones, too, and I'm feeling that more accutely as well. Indigo Boy is sustaining me through my travails on the road, so that's nice to know that he hasn't forgotten me. I took a bath in my dead sea salts to soak away my troubles, but only because I came prepared with a sponge and a bottle of Method tub & tile cleaner. I also gave myself a pedicure and did a mud mask and felt a little bit like fresh Me again. I think I'm ready to brave the weather tomorrow and drive to Fort Smith, Arkansas. I'm getting closer to my destination, but boy does it feel like a trek!
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