Truly, it’s not easy to pinpoint what I love most about Dalhart Texas. But if you press me on the matter, I’m going to say it’s the Nursanickel Motel across from the Toot -n- Totem Truckstop.
A gal can always count on the Nursanickel Motel, especially when that gal is supposed to be in Amarillo, Texas by now eating a 72-ounce steak in thirty minutes or less trying to get it free, at The Big Texan.
But no, Sam and I are like moths to Dalhart’s flame. Limping into town on five wheels instead of six, having blown a duel between the feedlots and the cornfields, west of Dalhart, The Nursanickel came to our rescue.
The last time we were here Sam either got food poisoning or the stomach flu and was projectile vomiting with a measure of flair and, frankly, volume heretofore unseen in West Texas.
Because we were heading to a horse sale, we were hauling his big truck and trailer, so we had to park around the corner. We weren’t even married yet, and I drove it in to town. That’s how sick Sam was. Walking down a side alley to The Nursanickel, he fell to the ground and I thought, “oh great, now how am I supposed to pick up and carry 225 lbs of vomiting cowboy.”
Here’s a dramatic reenactment.
Horrified, I called my mom from The Nursanickel saying, “I think Sam got food poisoning from some bad prime rib, should I take him to the emergency room?”
I heard my dad ask from the background.
“Did he eat the butt? Ha ha ahaha.”
Sympathy isn’t Mike Quirk’s strong suit, but since when Sam is sick, he doesn’t just vomit, he shout/vomits, I thought the emergency room might be in order.
Quickly, I suggested to Nursanickel staff they not sell the rooms nearby. They were kind and accommodating as West Texans are and suggested I give him pickle juice. Jane Quirk suggested ibuprofen and rest. Sam asked for Pepsi and though I told him it was a bad idea, he drank it anyway and immediately shout/vomited it up.
So, like I said, Dalhart has a lot of good memories for me.
After two weeks in the mountains, you could blindfold me and I’d still know I’m back in Texas: 1. I’m sweating. 2. Our waitress called me Hon and 3. She laughed and said “raaaahht” when I made a joke.
God willing and tires don’t blow, we’ll roll back into town tomorrow.
One thought on “Let’s End On A High Note – Dalhart, Texas.”
Ha! my husband also shout/vomits. What’s up with that? I have driven to Lubbock and through Amarillo so many times I find it amazing that I have not happened upon the Nursanickle Motel. Love the reenactment.