thehefner | Photos: Route 66, Day Six (The National Parks of Arizona)

I left the truck stop at 7AM to get a head start on the day, with the intention of cramming all three of these Arizona parks in one day. First stop, the Painted Desert:

A pair of ravens sat perched by one path, and I could help but wonder if they have grown accustomed to tourists and hang around for handouts or even attention. They barely seemed to pay me any mind as I walked past.

From there, it was a half-hour drive to the Painted Desert's sister park, the Petrified Forest. Not having ever seen a petrified forest before, I wasn't sure what to expect. I suppose some part of me remembered the Bugs Bunny cartoons where a petrified forest looked just like a regular forest, only if you tried to cut down a tree, you'd get all wobbly and dazed like a struck gong.

Actually, it reminded me of this 50's sci-fi b-movie that Mom took me to see at the AFI, back when it was in the Kennedey Center. I must have been, like, five or six, and it was only recently when I discovered what the movie was: THE MONOLOTH MONSTERS, a film where obsidian space rocks fall to Earth, shards and chunks found scattered in the desert just like these. And if the space rocks got wet, they'd grow larger, and... and if you're nearby, they growing space rocks will suck all the moisture out of your body, leaving you petrified! Crazy stuff.

Anyway, here are some wood rocks.

I at least managed to pass by this other famous 66 landmark, Wigwam Village in Holbrook, AZ! I'll let RTUSA explain:

Based on the original circa-1936 Wigwam Village motor court built in Cave City, Kentucky, Holbrook’s was one of seven franchises across the country; this one opened in 1950 but closed down when the Interstate came through in 1974. The family of original owner Chester Lewis fully renovated the buildings and reopened the place after his death in 1988; original bentwood hickory furniture, a small curio shop, and a handful of historic American cars parked outside help complete the ambiance of classic roadside Americana. Rooms cost around $35 a night, so you really should stay here at least once in your life.

I just might have too, but that would have meant missing the Painted Desert and Petrified Forest, not to mention the experience of sleeping in a truck stop. I think I narrowly made the right call there.

I spent the rest of my journey that day driving on, missing such sights as the meteor crater, Two Guns Trading Post (in Winona (sorry, Bobby Troup, I forgot it), and all of Flagstaff. I was foolishly determined to cram in the Grand Canyon.

I say foolishly not to imply that I failed. Oh, I made it there all right, with four hours of settling daylight to enjoy my experience. But as anyone who's actually been to the Grand Canyon can attest, you could spend a whole week there and still barely experience a fraction of its majesty.

Yes, it's a big hole in the ground. But anyone who hasn't been to the Grand Canyon probably can't quite grasp just how big a hole in the ground it really is. No movies, no photos could ever possibly capture its awe-inspiring scale, and mine certainly don't come close.

Seriously, I could spend hours just staring into it.

The only depressing aspect is when you realize what the Canyon must have looked like a hundred years ago, without that thick layer of smog.

I hope the people in the above picture can help give you a better idea of what we're talking about in terms of scale.

I didn't get to see anything else that day. All the primo diners and cafes were closed up, and it was already damn dark. I drove another hundred or so miles through old 66, an entire two-lane highway to myself, surrounded by blackness and starry night.

It was eerie and I was exhausted from my hike along the Canyon's rim, but was oddly braced by the eleventh-hour drive through these desolate back roads, with my only company being the occasional restored Burma-Shave sign ad.

By the way, those rhyming signs were both funny and creepy at that hour. I half expected them to start leaving eerie messages for me:

"She will flood"

"Your face with kisses"

"Because you smell"

"So darn delicious seriously we are going to eat you John Hefner."

"Burma-Shave."

Because it was night and because I lacked confidence in the minivan, I opted to avoid the incredibly-tempting Oatman route as offered through RTUSA: One of the most demanding, desolate, and awesomely satisfying stretches of the old road climbs from I-40 along the Colorado River, beginning just east of the California border and rejoining the freeway at Kingman. Following at first along the wildlife refuge that lines the Colorado River, the old road then cuts across a stretch of desert that brings new meaning to the word “harsh.” The narrow, roughly surfaced roadway passes few signs of life on this 50-mile loop, so be sure you and your car are prepared for the rigors of desert driving.

Someday, in a far more durable vehicle, I'd love to take that road and see for myself. But it's not to be this time around. With one day left on old Route 66 to come, I pulled into a rest area outside of Kingman, AZ, and conked out for the night. We're in the home stretch now.