Petrified Forest & Flagstaff, Arizona

Grand Canyon-bound, but it's a good journey to South Rim from Gallup, NM, so decide to stay overnight at Flagstaff, an attractive railroad town again situated on Route 66 and some two hours and 80 miles away from our intended destination.
Travelling towards it on Interstate 40 Chris spots sign for Petrified Forest National Park. We hadn't planned on detour at this stage - only to see Winslow, Arizona ('such a fine sight to see' according to The Eagles classic Take It Easy - but are glad we did.
The Petrified Forest isn't scary - just one of Arizona's stranger NPs. Forget the Jurassic Age, this area dates back to the Triassic Pre-Dinosaur Age where millions of years ago rivers swept trees into a vast swamp. You can still see parts of those very same trees today, but they have literally turned to stone - orange, red, brown quartz stone logs with crystals helping to keep them preserved.
The Park is also home to The Painted Desert - a vast wilderness stretching as far as the eye can see to the east side of the Grand Canyon. It is also refered to as Badlands for its inhospitable terrain. Despite its starkness, this desert, whose rocks change from reds to blues and greens depending on the time of day, has an eerie beauty all of its own. Glad we checked it out.
On to Winslow then to see the monument of the man 'standing on the corner' in that Eagles song. Uh, sadly not. A very sleepy Chris, who has been doing a great job in the navigator's seat, nods off (no surprise considering the length of our journey and the heat in The Painted Desert) - and I somehow manage to miss the three Winslow exits (where were the signposts?), so we don't get to see that famous corner after all. Nothing to do with 'seven women on my mind' either, I hasten to add.
Never mind, we pull into Flag, as the locals call it, earlier than expected and drive past The Museum Club - an old timber roadhouse where the long deceased Hank Williams and the very much alive Willie Nelson have performed. Built in 1931, it has been a regular venue for country musicians travelling the road.
Right next door is a motel. Perfect stop then for a night of honky-tonkin at 'The Zoo' - The Museum Club was once a taxidermist's by all accounts, hence the nickname. When prohibition ceased it took on new lease of life - and is still going strong.
Anyway, we're in luck - a band called Von Cotton are playing - and a mighty fine alt.country band they turn out to be too, giving a storming set over three hours plus.
The place itself is straight out of John Travolta's Urban Cowboy movie - guys in stetsons and gals in tigh-fitting denim jeans swilling Bud and doing the two-step. We decide to get into the party mood (when in Rome, or rather Flag) - but forget the dancing, we'll stick to the Bud.
What a great people-watching place. Amanda's at the Langland Bay Hotel on Thursday nights (now I'm showing my age) was never like this.
Anyway a great night had by all - it's 2am and we're exhausted. Back to the motel for a good night's sleep. Well that's the plan. Not a chance. Right across the road is the Santa Fe railroad and the freight trains - they have up to 90 wagons - are still roaring down the tracks, with those 'foghorns' of theirs blasting into the wee small hours.
Okay, so e didn't do our homework on this one, but a sleepless night was a sacrifice worth making for a night at 'The Zoo' with Von Cotton and those friendly Bud-swilling cowpokes and cowgals. Yipee.