Hotel Nevada

Posted on December 1st, 2011 in Stories

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Hotel Nevada If you ever have the pleasure of traveling the remnants of the Lincoln Highway in Nevada, be sure to make some time for Ely. Like many other night ramblers, I have been seduced by the glow of the lights of this lively town, where there are plenty of places to take a hot [...]

The Big Woods

Posted on November 25th, 2011 in Stories

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In 1979, photographer Zigy Kaluzny and I traveled to the Olympic Peninsula in Washington to do a story about the everyday life of loggers who lived in what they commonly called the big woods. It proved to be a memorable assignment. Although we deplored logging techniques that led to wholesale clear-cutting of ancient timber and [...]

The Blue Horseshoe

Posted on November 18th, 2011 in Stories


Whenever I think of Mexico, certain images come to mind — bullfights, sunsets the color of enchiladas, Pancho Villa, and, always, tequila. Although I gave up on strong drink many years ago, I still respect the historical and cultural significance of this beverage that for so long has quenched the thirsts of so many people.

Hotel California

Posted on November 11th, 2011 in Stories

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If I decided to move to Los Angeles, I would live in the Chateau Marmont Hotel. This cultural monument overlooking Sunset Boulevard in West Hollywood has provided sanctuary for the famous and the infamous since its doors first opened in 1927.


Posted on November 4th, 2011 in Stories


I was raised on Cardinal baseball. Some of my fondest memories are of listening to a heated game as reported over our trusty radio by the incomparable Harry Carey and later Jack Buck. But even better was when we piled in my Dad’s trusty Plymouth and drove down to Grand Boulevard and Dodier Street to see a game at Sportsman’s Park, a revered site where baseball was played as early as 1867.

“Meet Me in St. Louis”

Posted on October 28th, 2011 in Stories


We have both lived in St. Louis and when we return we often go downtown to visit familiar sites, including the Gateway Arch. The tallest monument in the United States and a symbol of the city, the stainless-steel Arch soars 630 feet above the Mississippi River.

New Mexico’s “Caviar”

Posted on October 21st, 2011 in Stories


The single food staple that makes me howl at the moon is the piquant, savory, peerless—and misunderstood—chile. I am not alone. The mere mention of the word—whether chile for the peppers or chili for the meat dish made from them—can bring tears of anguish or bliss to multitudes of people.

Old Cheyenne

Posted on October 14th, 2011 in Stories


Long before the arrival of the Lincoln Highway, nation’s first transcontinental road, Cheyenne, Wyoming, was a good place for railroad workers to winter over while the tracks were being laid in the post-Civil War years.

Mom and Pop Places

Posted on October 6th, 2011 in Stories


There are still motels — real motels operated by real people who truly care about their guests and their comfort. Mom and Pop places, as we like to call them. And they really are just that. They become our home away from home.

Where Two Rivers Become One

Posted on September 29th, 2011 in Stories


Michael stands at the crossroads of America. Behind him is the confluence of two of its greatest rivers, the actual spot where the 2,541-mile Missouri River flows into the 2,320-mile Mississippi River just north of St. Louis. This is the place from which the Lewis & Clark Expedition left in 1804 to explore the West and to which they returned in 1806.

Beverly Hills

Posted on September 22nd, 2011 in Stories


We remember Beverly Hills from our westward journeys down Route 66. The venerable Mother Road uses the alias Santa Monica Boulevard in this ritzy neck of the woods as it nears its terminus at the Pacific shore. When we motor past the posh palaces and smart shops of Beverly Hills we are reminded that this mecca for the rich and famous was carved out of an old Spanish land grant covered with sagebrush.

Campo Santo

Posted on September 15th, 2011 in Stories


It was in the high desert of Arizona just across the New Mexico border. We were traveling west as far as we could go, all the way to the Pacific shore. Our vehicles of choice for this particular adventure were a blue van filled with ice chests and the songs of Woody Guthrie and the Eagles, and in the lead a ragtop Corvette, as red as spilled blood, that rolled off the assembly line in 1964.

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