SUN BELT ROAD TRIP I-10 MIXES WIDE-OPEN SPACES WITH ROADSIDE ODDITIES, HONKY-TONKS, HISTORY AND GREAT BARBECUE.

Byline: Story and photos by Brent Hopkins Staff Writer

Interstate 10 starts off on the edge of the Pacific Ocean, then stretches 2,460 miles in a relatively straight line before smacking into I-95, not far from the Atlantic.

Using its spartan corridor, ample cups of coffee and a good FM radio, hardened travelers can cross the country on this route in three days. But given a little more time, they can see the nation as it was meant to be seen.

Starting in Santa Monica, where a sign heralds the beginning of the Christopher Columbus Transcontinental Freeway, a traveler can head east and escape to a country far different from California. It's a land of red meat, big trucks, raucous music and endless, amazing beauty as far as the eye can see. This is the part of the nation you hear about on the news, or see in miniature from the window seat of an airplane, but rarely get to witness up close.

And it's got everything that makes up this great nation of ours: country, city, beauty and squalor.

To undertake a road trip to Florida, pushing a car across eight states and three time zones, is no easy task, but one well worth the effort. Drivers will see things they'd never imagine from the comforts of home and be rewarded handsomely for their steps into the unfamiliar.

The nature of the trip will depend on the travelers themselves and how adventurous they want to be. You can stick to I-10 and stop only in major cities, taking in museums and fine dining. Or you can take back roads and grab cheap motels, eating regional specialities and mingling with the locals.

With that long freeway as the backbone of the trip, the country comes alive, revealing itself in an endless swath of burger joints, antique shops and monuments to the unusual.

Setting out from Los Angeles at dawn will get you out of the urban sprawl and into legitimate desert by lunchtime, with cactus dotting the seemingly infinite sandy landscape. It's no trouble to make Phoenix or Tucson by nightfall.

Either Arizona city affords plenty of cultural opportunities and nice lodgings, but for a night of entertainment that's worth the trip alone, check out Lil' Abner's Steakhouse on the outskirts of Tucson.

Years' worth of wandering travelers have etched their names into its worn wooden walls, commemorating long-forgotten bachelor parties, company functions and road trips. The steaks, cooked on an immense outdoor grill, are heartbreakingly tender, the beans smoky and delicious.

But the true draw is Dean Armstrong and the Arizona Dance Hands. Dean's been picking tunes at Tucson gigs since far before the interstate even existed, back when Western swing was a hot new sound and Hank Williams was just a couple years out of honky tonks. Dean is past 80 and looks as if he were carved out of an oak tree trunk, but he fronts the tightest foursome in the business.

From Patsy Cline to a country version of ``Hava Nagila,'' they can lay down tunes rarely heard in modern scenes. They take requests and mingle with the audience, and given a little prodding and quick rehearsal can whip up a pretty hot take on ``I've Got a Tiger By the Tail.''

From Arizona through New Mexico, the views from the road go on for mind-bogglingly endless miles. A curve suddenly changes the landscape, and a rise brings on new views that subtly morph for an hour. You can go from bright sunshine to a driving thunderstorm in a matter of seconds, then burst through into the hot, humid calm of the desert once again.

After a quick stab through Las Cruces, N.M., the freeway eases its way into Texas, a state with which travelers can become intimately familiar, if they so choose.

Not far from the state line, you'll see a city that seemingly envelops the entire horizon, its homes stretching so far that they become countless tiny dots north and south.

It's actually two towns, El Paso above you and Juarez, Mexico, below. At night, when darkness unfolds across them both, Juarez lights up like a Faberge egg, its thousands of lamps twinkling dimly in a beautiful southern vista. While dangerous - hundreds of women have been murdered here over the past 10 years - the town has a gorgeous sheen from afar.

Walking around downtown El Paso shows off the things that make the trip interesting. There's the Kress Building, a once elegantly quirky store that now houses a Chinese restaurant. Right across the street lies San Jacinto Plaza, which used to house the town's public alligator pond. Fiberglass alligators occupy the pond now, the real reptiles long gone, officials realizing it might not be a great idea to have vast mouthfuls of teeth within snapping distance of visitors who would occasionally venture in to pester the creatures.

It's places like this, or the nearby El Paso Boxing Mural, which unfolds across the side of the De Soto Hotel on Mills Avenue, that give the trip its character.

As the nation becomes increasingly homogenous, with a Starbucks on every corner and mega-malls of familiar chain stores filling every town, seeing such oddball sites provides a refreshing taste of what makes each town unique.

You'll see them throughout Texas, which constantly reminds visitors that they shouldn't mess with it. Hot-rod garages and stuffed armadillo stores dot the streets of the vast state, which will probably take three hot days to get across.

Some of the sights get detailed explanation; others, such as the world's largest roadrunner sculpture in Fort Stockton, do not. The state's so huge, you could spend months here, alternating between the high culture of Houston's museums and Austin's music halls and unusual stops like the Kreuz Market in Lockhart.

The German barbecue restaurant, 105 years old, stands out even in a state known for its 'cue. It's a little off the interstate, midway between San Antonio and Austin, but is well worth the detour. Rows and rows of oak wood are stacked behind the huge building; the woodpile is encased in barbed wire to deter thieves from making off with the precious lifeblood for the enormous smokers.

Here they sell their meats by the pound - brisket, shoulder, chops, ribs and sausage - and slice them on a round block bigger than a bass drum, slick and seasoned with the fat of tender, delicious meals.

The grub is so good, they can get away with not offering little courtesies - plates and forks - that other restaurants routinely provide with their food. Two bites into the flavorful meat, imbued with vivid red smoke rings, and diners won't mind eating off butcher paper and will wonder why they ever wasted time with silverware before.

If you're going to spend time in Texas, you'll quickly become an expert in its history. The state named its geography for its heroes - Houston, Austin, Crockett, etc. - and every place you turn, you get a reminder to remember the Alamo and a chance to buy some commemorative presents.

One of the notable figures in that 1836 battle with Mexico is honored in the town of Ozona, midway between El Paso and San Antonio. This is the one and only city in Crockett County, named for folk hero and Alamo defender David Crockett.

He's becoming less of a cartoonish figure, his name lengthened from the familiar Davy and his coonskin cap often left off statuary altogether, but his importance has not diminished in the least.

Though Crockett had nothing to do with Ozona on his final jaunt to Texas, the town still erected an immense monument to the colorful character's memory.

The Alamo itself, home to the fighters' doomed last stand against the Mexican army that helped rally the cause of Texan independence, is a small site in San Antonio, but it looms large over the state's conscience.

If you pass through the city, it's worth navigating the horrendously confusing freeways to see the old mission and stronghold. It's right downtown, in the middle of the popular Riverwalk tourist district, and is a strange throwback to when Texas was a wild refuge from the encroaching modern world.

While that modern world, complete with ice cream shops and coffeehouses, has caught up with and engulfed the battleground, you can still walk inside the reverentially quiet building to see exactly why Texans are so proud of the humble landmark.

Once Texas lies behind you, Louisiana stands out like a mysterious beacon, jazz rhythms echoing from streets that swirl with the delectable odors of fried food and slow-cooked stews. Though the whole state is a beautiful carpet of green fields and lushly overgrown swampland, it's the bustling metropolis of New Orleans that holds the most adventure.

This is not a nice city, though it boasts more than its fair share of tourist spots. It's a hard town, where steam shovels knock down old buildings to make room for new condos, and brass bands lead funerals for murdered youngsters through Uptown streets.

A wrong turn can easily take you from the comfortable confines of the French Quarter into some pretty rough areas.

But it's worth it. The pulse of the horns, the fire of the hot sauce, block after block of clubs, restaurants and everything else you could imagine - that's what makes New Orleans so inescapable. It's got its nastier sides and ridiculous tourist haunts, but the experience is so captivating, it's worth all the hassles.

After the pulsating energy of Louisiana, drivers will likely want a break. The 10 will spirit them through Mississippi and Alabama, quick rides that don't take more than a few hours, then on into Florida. Within a day, they'll have crossed the country, reaching the freeway's terminus in Jacksonville.

But success in this journey doesn't come just from reaching the end of the road, it comes from what's gathered along the way.

That great Zydeco radio station in Lafayette, La. Those amazing gorditas in Canutillo, Texas. The old-time marquees for motels and drive-ins that welcome travelers to little towns - these are the things you'll miss out on if you hop a flight or follow a guidebook.

With time, a good map of back roads and some recommendations from the locals about where to find a bite to eat, you'll have a newfound appreciation for everything the Sun Belt has to offer.

Brent Hopkins, [phone]

brent.hopkins(at)dailynews.com

IF YOU GO

LIL ABNER'S STEAKHOUSE: 8500 N. Silverbell Road, Tucson, Ariz. [phone].

KREUZ MARKET: 619 N. Colorado St., Lockhart, Texas. [phone]; www.kreuzmarket.com.

ALAMO: 300 Alamo Plaza, San Antonio. Open 9 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. Monday through Saturday, 10 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. Sunday. No admission charge. www.thealamo.org.

CAPTION(S):

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Photo:

(1 -- 4 -- color) Some sweeping southern vistas can be framed by the windshield on a trip across the country on Interstate 10, top. Along the way, the diversions might include country singer Dean Armstrong at a Tucson, Ariz., steakhouse, above right; the world's largest roadrunner statue, in Fort Stockton, Texas, above; and vintage roadside signs such as this one in Titusville, Fla., right.

(5 -- 8) Top left, El Paso celebrates its heritage with the Texas Boxing Mural. The Alamo, top right, still remains a must for San Antonio, Texas, visitors. The barbecue at the Kreuz Market in Lockhart, Texas, above, is smoked long and served up plentifully - but only on butcher paper. The French Market in New Orleans, left, has an unusual serving method - gator on a stick.

Brent Hopkins/Great Escapes

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IF YOU GO (see text)