Day 63 -- Thursday, July 2

In eastern Arizona, Route 66 has been almost completely overwhelmed by I-40. It often doesn't even serve as frontage road. One can enter the state on the old road and pass through a couple of small towns but before long, one has no alternative but to take the interstate.

There is an old stretch from Houck to Sanders that makes for a nice detour from the interstate. It's mostly gravel-covered but there's a cool old bridge across Querino Canyon and the ruins of an old trading post to see.

I stopped in at a couple of Navajo trading posts (66 crosses their reservation at this juncture). One of them had literally hundreds of cow skulls hanging on one of its outer walls; any one of them could be had for only 35 bucks. Let me tell you, I was tempted.

I took a run through the Painted Desert and the Petrified Forest and then wandered through Holbrook, the first town of any size along the route in Arizona. Holbrook has many surviving businesses from the old days. I lunched at a great little spot, Joe and Aggie's Cafe, and wished I could stay at the Wigwam Motel. It's a semicircle of 15 concrete teepees that first opened to the public in 1950. It's pretty cool. I even threw a little tantrum trying to convince myself to stay there but I ignored it, knowing the tempest would blow over, and drove on.

Next came Joseph City, another stretch of the old road; Winslow, a town that's mighty proud of its 66 heritage and then a 41 mile stretch of interstate. On the way into Flagstaff, one passes quickly (don't blink!) through Winona, immortalized in Bobby Troup's classic tune, (Get Your Kicks on) Route 66. You know the line: You'll see Amarillo; Gallup, New Mexico; Flagstaff, Arizona; don't forget Winona. I hate to say it but I suspect that Troup singled out this wide spot in the road not because he was impressed by it but because it rhymed with Arizona.

When I was a kid, 11 or 12, I'd guess, my family traveled through Arizona. I tended to get carsick in those days and took Dramamine to avoid sharing my lunch after the fact with my siblings. It made me sleepy, though, so I guess I missed some great scenery along the way. I'm not sure what direction we approached Flagstaff from back then; I only know that when I went to sleep it was incredibly hot and we were driving through the desert. When I awoke, we were in the mountains and it was rather cold outside. "Geez," I thought to myself, "how long was I asleep?"

It's just about as big a shock entering Flagstaff fully awake. The pine-covered peaks really do stand in stark contrast to the barren sun-baked countryside I'd been traveling through. Flagstaff has a number of old motels still operating along Santa Fe Avenue (recently re-dubbed Route 66); many of them are showing the wear and tear of the years but some aren't bad at all. There's a great old hotel, the Monte Vista, just a block or two off of 66 in the old downtown district. They've had their share of star guests over the years, like the El Rancho in Gallup, and the place has a great feel of the old days. It was little out of the range of my budget but still very reasonable. If ever I return to Flagstaff, I'll definitely spend the night there.



Continue on the American Odyssey.
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