Wednesday, May 14, 2014

Amarillo




I took the scenic route from Santa Fe to Amarillo by directing my navigation to Las Vegas, NM. first, and then catching 287 through Childress. It’s not like it was an unpaved residential road, but it was a far cry from the major I-40. I think it only added about half an hour to the trip, but it took me through small towns of 122 population and took a lot more interesting twists and turns than the big highway. It was a fun drive. 

Amarillo was dry and windy. I was happy to stay indoors and do nothing. I had plenty of food and no responsibilities, so I just relaxed.

By placing an ad in Craigs List, I connected with a man who was a teacher in the psychiatric prison. He offered to bring some hair-clippers over to my room and supervise my cutting my hair so I didn’t miss any spots in the back. And then he took River and I to what is probably Amarillo’s second biggest claim to fame, Cadillac Ranch. (I’d think the Route 66 song was its biggest.)

The sculpture has been painted so many times that it is inches thick in parts. It has been officially painted many times; different colors for different occasions. In addition, it is tacitly implied that visitors should contribute some paint whenever they visit. There were a few spray cans going around, so I grabbed a couple and did my part.


This was an auspicious occasion for River because it was the first time I’d really let him run around free since his surgery eight weeks ago. And it was in such a wide open area, he took that opportunity and ran with it. He jumped and ran and quickly changed direction and did it all over again. And he gleefully stopped what he was doing when I called him to COME. He couldn’t get to me fast enough, and sat there panting as I reattached his leash so we could leave.


Before we returned to the room, we managed to see one other sculpture funded by the same man who is responsible for Cadillac Ranch and many other public art installations around Amarillo. This one is called Colossal and it was two giant, disembodied legs. It was nearly dark by the time we saw this sculpture so I didn’t get a picture of it. At one point, someone painted sport socks on the legs. But they were long covered up with new paint before I saw them.

The name, Colossal comes from a poem that was on a plaque in front of the sculpture. As we drove by, my friend was anguished to discover the plaque was missing. Read about it, here.



3 comments:

terrepruitt said...

I love the car art. I bet you were as happy as River at his runnung, yes?

terrepruitt said...

Ha, runnIng. :-)

Jason Alan Griffin said...

Yes, it was such a joy to see him finally be able to let loose. And he was clearly having a ball.