It was a dark and stormy day, on the other side of the freeway. Over there. That’s the thing about driving in the desert – a storm can be all the way over there, and it’s no big deal because… it’s over there. We did feel a few drops, but that’s about it.
I had the Jack Rabbit Trading Post on my list of things to see. Turns out it was about fifteen minutes or so past Geronimo’s – on the remnants of old Route 66. I believe it opened in 1949 (somethin’ like that) and I’m guessing the road in front of it is actually old Route 66. Ooooo… the Mother Road…
Lookin’ pretty rough. If this is what the rest of the ‘Mother Road’ looks like, then she’s in need of Calgon takin’ her away. Kinda scary. It does feel like you’re driving into the past when you take the exit off the highway. There’s a certain “Last Chance Texaco” aura about it. An undefined desolation. History hanging on.
Back in the day they had cold beer? And snacks? Well dang. I woulda brought my Mr. Peabody’s Wayback Machine along if I had known that. They didn’t have cold beer. But they did have souvenir-y stuff just like Geronimo’s. But, unlike Geronimo’s, they had a wabbit.
Now you know, the rabbit is there for the photo op. Why else would the rabbit be there? It’s got a saddle and everything. Who wouldn’t want to climb up for a photo? But here’s the deal. When one is 50, climbing up on the roadside attraction rabbit can possibly compromise one’s graceful nature. I go up to the rabbit, and realize the fake stirrup on the other side is broken. Probably because an overweight, 50 year old tried to get on the dang thing. Undaunted, I fling my leg up on the saddle, happy there are no bystanders because I get stuck. You know, like, “Baby… can ya come help me” stuck. The queen abides. She grabs my hand and gives me a heave-ho onto the plasticine beast.
And there I am, up on a giant, molded rabbit, unable to get down with any amount of aplomb. But hey, look at the groovy old cars in the background. I never noticed them while we were there. I look at an old, junked car and wonder what history it holds – who owned it, who was conceived in it, what stories it holds. But, there was no time to ponder, we had to get on our way.