First you see foot hills covered with windmills, huge windmills
laid across the landscape like rows of corn. Then, 100 miles
to the east you see forests of nut trees, again planted in rows for
organized production.
Not a great deal of options for breakfast. I saw a few spots but
drove on looking for something unique. Finally, as I entered the
foothills it seemed the choices had run out. The Oasis came into view
as I drove round the bend so I grabbed the chance for breakfast
at the counter. The world needs places like this. With nice ladies,
happy to cook for the regular from the dirt road cabin off 140,
or the odd traveler like me, interested in seeing whats inside.
It was like stepping into 1965 when I entered the door at The Oasis.
The counter to the right, a plastic display case ready to show off
4 slices of pie sat empty at the end. The room was occupied by
me and one other man at a table in the corner, busy reading
a pile of papers through a strange set of magnifying glasses.
I ordered a cup of coffee and 2 over easy with what the menu
called 1/4 order biscuts and gravy. It was the biscuts I'll remember,
I'm sure she made them this morning. The gravy was standard, heavy
and filling, as it should be. The coffee was hot, that's about it.
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