Friday evening, I left work and headed to the Texas Panhandle for some relaxation and rejuvenation. After checking in at the La Quinta, I finished up some Sonic I picked up in Clarendon and then went to sleep, though not simultaneously.
The next morning I had an appointment with a friend from Facebook. However, I got to the café 20 minutes early and it was time to explore rather than stare at the establishment.
The crispy winter breeze blew on my neck causing goose bumps to proliferate like sunflowers across a drought stricken community.
6th Street in Amarillo on a cloudy morning felt like a chance to meet the ghosts of yesteryear.
It was time to head towards the café and a gentleman with black wind blown hair and a worn black beard and light brown jacket approached. "Greg?" We went inside the café, sat down, ordered the meals and began chit chatting about various roads and interesting tidbits about the panhandle. The chocolate milk nourishes down the hash browns and short cakes. The cash register closes, door opens, wind greets us and he takes me into his wife's automobile for a short tour of the largest city between Dallas and Denver.
We drove back onto 6th St. and began creating wish lists for travel spots. As we parted ways he mentions a place to go further northeast of Amarillo.
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