Day10-11: Waffle House “Butter” in Amarillo, Texas

And a preventative measure to keep ourselves from going banana

On day 10 morning, we did our check-in as we sip our coffee. This is a daily routine that Connor and I had set up before we started our trip. Being together 24/7 for 20 days with strenuous schedules is new for both of us, so it was a precautionary plan to check-in and update than to let our emotions to pile up. It’s a small ritual but has been incredibly helpful to unpack and communicate how we are doing. As we were doing the checkin that morning, we noted how our morning coffee intakes have grown significantly (e.g. I had a double espresso cortado and a drip coffee), and our check-ins overlapped on the fact that we were getting really tired and physically angsty. Though we were walking around a lot in cold, we had not had proper work out time and spent a lot of time driving. It was getting to us mentally as well as physically.

We spent most of the day driving (except a quick visit to Philbrook museum) from Tulsa, Oklahoma to Amarillo, Texas. To prioritize our needs, we went to sleep early when we arrived Texas and spent the next day morning working out at the fitness room of our stay. The only other activity we did in Amarillo was to finally visit an iconic Southern restaurant chain - Waffle House. Waffle House has about 2k locations across 25 states but most of them are in the Midwest and especially the South. I had seen the yellow square background + black text Waffle House signs so many times on highway exits.

I haven’t had enough time to find words to describe things I felt and thought about my breakfast there and how they connect to other things of the trip. I think I will briefly mention some things here and will try to elaborate better some other time after the trip.

It’s a breakfast chain. Food was expectedly cheap-tasting (because they are actually cheap), like waffles you would make yourself at a college dining hall (they were thinner than ones I had in college - crispier). The butter packet that came with waffle was not actually butter (I asked if I can have butter after reading the ingredients of the “whipped spread”the server gave and the returned answer was “you have butter right there”, pointing at my packet with the genuine confusion on her face).

It’s basically margarine

But also there was something striking about looking at the very-open kitchen with messy (grill’s oil stains and batter spills all around waffle makers) yet organized (somehow everyone remembers what to do) cooking, hearing over the old guests who seemed to come alone as their usual routines or out of nostalgia when coming back home, interacting with a server who is not shy to show that she feels tired to work there but still calls everyone sweetheart and talks to them with the just right amount of care that seemed genuine and so … Waffle House … with lack of better words.

After the breakfast, we made it back to west - Santa Fe, New Mexico. The colors around the roads transitioned to something familiar and felt like home.

I am writing this half-asleep at a lobby at Zion Lodge in Zion National Park. We got here today after driving from Sedona, Arizona and I went for a quick walk before sunset that ended up being a proper hike.

Hope your Monday went okay - if not I am sending hugs.

Tired but feeling grateful,

Kye