Through Outlaw Territory on the Mother Road: Day 3, Suzuki Adventure

If you’re interested in American West history—particularly anything having to do with outlaws and bandits—eastern New Mexico is a fascinating drive. Historic markers and Old West-themed businesses appear unheralded along the ambling stretches of highway. One sign on Interstate 40 announces the Black Bart RV Park, while a little later on, a turnoff beckons to Billy the Kid’s tomb.

Coincidentally, the day we set off from Albuquerque to cross New Mexico into West Texas, Billy the Kid is enjoying a posthumous return to the local headlines. Governor Bill Richardson is considering pardoning the notorious outlaw for murdering a lawman back in the 1800s. Because of this, many of the old Billy legends are dredged up from the history books and reexamined in the media—including the debate over where exactly he was buried. Turns out, nobody knows.

Though several spots claim to be Billy the Kid’s official last resting place, a storm washed away the original—and only authentic—wooden marker to his grave. All of the monuments and museums that claim to house Billy’s remains are just shams, constructed to draw tourist.

Fortunately, the oh-so-convincing highway signs on I-40 don’t tempt us over to the false tomb. Instead, we cut over to a stretch of historic Route 66 that diverges from the modern interstate, and turns out to be amazingly rich with classic American scenery. In the tiny town of Santa Rosa, an old-fashioned bridge crosses a sleepy section of the Pecos River.  

A road forks off from town and leads into the forested hills to manmade Santa Rosa Lake, where locals waterski and fish in the summer. If you continue eastward along Route 66, it rejoins with I-40 and cuts straight through the center of Santa Rosa—about four blocks of motor inns, roadside cafes and service stations.

We pull up in front of the Route 66 Auto Museum, where the Kizashi looks out of place but bizarrely happy next to the dusty collection of old trucks and classic cars in the parking lot.

Inside the museum, more than two dozen hot rods, vintage autos and muscle cars are restored to perfect condition and exhibited along with decades’ worth of Route 66 memorabilia.

The sun has already set as we drive into Tucumcari, called the “Heart of the Mother Road” because Route 66 passes through its center.

We’ve already decided to  push onward and spend the night across the Texas border in Amarillo, Texas, but I feel a bit sentimentally drawn to Tucumcari—maybe from hearing the name about a million times in the Little Feat song Willin’ during the roadtrips of my childhood. I vow to myself to return another time, in the daylight.

We wind up the drive a couple hours later in the town of Canyon, just outside Amarillo. The only full-service bar in the (dry) county is adjacent to our hotel, so we end the night with beers and wings. Tomorrow brings a journey to Ft. Worth—home of rodeo, NASCAR and the 2011 Super Bowl.