AUGUST 11: Flagstaff to Amarillo

[Todd writing] The 605 mile drive to Amarillo would be the second longest driving day of the trip, and Julia was still sunburned from day one. Also, since Arizona does not participate in Daylight Savings Time (they have so much they don't need to save it), we would lose two hours en route. Still, we didn't want to miss Walnut Canyon, which is one of the less known gems of the National Park System. The site is on a U-shaped turn in a deep river canyon, which left what is now called an Island behind. As the softer layers of stone eroded out, and the firmer layers above remained, a sort of covered porch was created that allowed as many as 300 Native Americans to build shelters, and a village thrived for several hundred years. Sadly, the path to the "island" was crushed by a boulder last winter, and remains closed. Still, on a summer morning following a rain, it was a lovely place to start our morning, and allowed us another stamp in our National Park Service Passport.

Petrified Forest National Park has entrances at the west and east ends, so we figured that we wouldn't lose much time taking this scenic detour. It turns out the road within the park mostly runs north-south, so it was quite a long detour. We planned to do a sort of jump-out/jump-in sort of a visit, taking a quick snap of the iconic "Old Faithful" petrified log and then jumping back in the cars.
Just as we arrived at the visitor center, the once-a-day Ranger Program began, so what could we do? We were allowed off of the official paths and afforded a much better understanding of the site. We were allowed to pick up objects from the out of bounds areas, as long as we returned them to exactly the same spot. (2000 lbs of minerals are stolen from the park every day, and $1000's of fines are levied on thieves who are caught).
This program allowed Christopher to earn another Junior Ranger Badge. It was a great visit, and we agreed that it was well worth the time spent, even though our arrival into Amarillo would be pushed back well into the night, and Olympic viewing would be out of the question. The park road finally returned us to I-40, and we sprinted eastward toward New Mexico, which we honored with little more than a gas stop on a Navajo Reservation and an over the shoulder glance at a gorgeous desert sunset.

By the time we reached Texas, there was litte light to see my second-favorite welcome sign, which reads: "Drive Friendly, the Texas Way!" (My favorite, on a small county road entering Wyoming from Colorado reads: "Somehow, nothing seems to satisfy quite like Beef." The driver is left to infer that his welcome to the Great State of Wyoming is conditioned upon his consumption of large quantities of the same. But I digress.)

It was after 11 p.m. when we reached the Lights of Amarillo and the home of Megan, my sister-in-law's little sister, and one of our nephew Dexter's two Auntie Megans.