Holbrook to Flagstaff

I've just got home after watching some American football. How anyone manages to stay awake for that is beyond me. I mean, it stops every minute while they...discuss something. I watched the same play (?) 8 - eight - times while they discussed stuff (and by they I mean...I'm not sure what I mean. I only know nothing was going on on the pitch (?)). I feel like I've watched slow-mo, fully-clothed, gay soft-porn. There was a lot of fumbling. My God. I have no idea what the rules are but it appears they can do anything. Is that dude jumping to catch the ball? Wait until he's in the air then shove him out the way. From what I gather, every time they drop the ball the game stops. As there's a lot of dropping the ball, the game stops and starts a lot. A lot. What's that about? Why not just pick it up and keep going? I've no idea. Anyway, it was Arizona against San Diego tonight, so it was everywhere. It's probably not over yet. It might not be over until tomorrow they way they were carrying on. Anyway. I'm way ahead of myself...

Holbrook. I should add that Holbrook is on a stretch of Route 66, hence me thinking it's very Route 66. In fact, Arizona has the longest stretch of Route 66. Most of it is now a 6-lane interstate, but there are parts that are still single-lane, and flanked by motels and diners, such as Holbrook. It's really very charming. Anyway, I only woke up once last night, at 3...ish. I managed to fall asleep after a while and didn't wake up until 6.18am! Goodness me. 

I went for breakfast in the motel, and had a boiled egg and the biggest bagel I've ever seen. I also had lots of good coffee. The Americans know coffee, I'll give them that. 

It's rained during the night, and the sky is heavy and grey. I don't mind so much as it's still very warm, and rain always clears the air. I head out at 8.15am towards Winslow. Now, if you're an Eagles fan, you'll know where I'm headed. If you're not, listen to this song. There, on the corner, is a flatbed Ford. It's perfectly kitsch. I'm incredibly aware of myself as I take a photo. Oh well. I'm just a tourist, who am I kidding. I head to a shop and buy something for my unborn son. I know the wife will hate it, but tough. I'm caught up in the Americana of it all. 

I walk down the street and again, find myself pulled towards a diner even though I only ate breakfast an hour or so ago. I really only want coffee, but end up having bacon and eggs. And coffee. It's lovely. From there I hit La Posada hotel. This, I'm told, is considered the pinnacle of southern architecture. It's really very nice, but I'm afraid I'm not the right audience. What is interesting though is it's history; it's a Harvey hotel, run by Harvey girls. You see, back in the 1920s, the railroads ruled America. Fred Harvey, an Englishman no less, realised that there weren't any decent food and sleep stops at the many stations across the country, so set about changing that. He opened up restaurants and hotels in 12 states (I think), that to begin with were staffed by men, as was the norm back then. However, the men soon proved to be too drunk/rude/messy, so he took the incredibly drastic decision to hire women. This turned out to be a very good idea, and the women, a really rather unique group back then, became known as Harvey Girls. La Posada was said to be the finest of Harvey's hotels, and one of the most popular. Winslow was a real hub back then. Everything Arizona had to offer was (is) relatively close by, and both rail and road (66) passed through. It was a completely different place. Although it was only open for 27 years, everyone who was anyone stayed there, like Shirley Temple, Charles Lindbergh (who also designed Winslow's airport), Bob Hope, Howard Hughes, John Wayne, President Franklin Roosevelt, President Harry Truman, Albert Einstein, Amelia Earhart, and The Crown Prince of Japan. Phew. It's all pretty cool, and yeah, it's not hard on the eyes either. I feel like I should also mention the architect, Mary Elizabeth Jane Colter, who was also pretty revolutionary at the time, given that she was an architect and a woman to boot. All these women. 

A room of sorts

So after a bit of wandering, I hit the road. I'd spent about two hours at Winslow, far more than I originally intended, so I wasn't really sure where I was going or what I should do. I ended up heading towards Second Mesa in the Hopi (an American Indian tribe) Reservation.

I've not been here before and it's very beautiful. Long roads. Really, really long, straight roads. Not much going on at all, but all the more lovely for it. 

By the time I hit the T-junction that gives me the possibility of heading straight to Flagstaff, my ultimate destination for today, or Page in the other direction, I've decided to head to Page. After all, there's burgers and Horseshoe Bend, and who doesn't want to see Horseshoe Bend? First though, I pay Slackers my annual visit. It’s a nondescript place and you really wouldn’t expect much out of it, but aren’t the best places often like that? For three years now this place has served me the best burger I’ve had. It’s big, it’s juicy, it’s simple, and by God, is it tasty. I had a twist on my usual half-pound cheeseburger with fries, and went for the half-pound cheeseburger with bacon – no fries. It was delicious, and over too quickly.

I head on to Horseshoe Bend, which is every bit as wonderful as ever, and after a walk and some photos, I find a nook and sit for a while. It's very peaceful, and while still overcast, very warm. I love it here. It's got to be one of my favourite places on earth. I find it very similar to - this will sound weird - some places on the west coast of Scotland. I think it has to do with the emptiness of it all. The aloneness. One might be hot, dry and in the American desert, the other, cold, mostly wet, and on the coast of Scotland, but ultimately, the feeling is the same. They give you space to think, which is always a good thing. I think lots of things, mostly about up and coming son, and how life will be afterwards. 

Strata, dude

But, there's only so much thought in me and I soon realise that if I want to get to Flagstaff at a decent time, I should get going. So I do. Through flat plains, red rock and green forests, and all the way to lovely Flagstaff.

It's great here, it really is. It's so damn chilled. The beer scene is outstanding. I bought 6 craft beers for $10. That's 57 DKK, or £6.21. You can barely get a bottle or a pint for that much back home. I had to get six because of the price. You know how it is. Anyway, people are friendly, the buildings are great, and beer is cheap. Did I say that already?

I eat, watch some NFL, have a wander, and here I am. I'm staying up a bit later tonight as I can have a lie in tomorrow. I'm going to explore Flagstaff tomorrow, something I've been wanting to do for years. Lots to see and do. 

Until then. 

Arizona won, by one point. 

PHX to Holbrook

It's 6.02am and I've been up for about an hour. Bloody jet lag. At least I have hot coffee and CMT on the telly to keep me occupied. I also had a Skype with the wife, which was lovely. 

I arrived here in Apache Junction after a perfectly uneventful journey from Denmark. We flew on a 747 from London, something I've not done for years so was quite excited about that. They're such lovely lumbering beasts. This was a pretty old bird, mind you. She'd seen a lot. In fact, my window was so loose that I could literally pull the plastic mould off together with the inner windowpane. This left all of what looked like just under 1cm of plastic (?) between me and out there. I wasn't so worried on the ground but by the time we reached 38,000 feet, I was a little anxious. I even had a plan just in case the window popped out. It involved my MacBook Air, but I'm pretty sure I'd end up with the same fate as that alien in Alien Resurrection. Anywho, the window didn't pop out so I could save the day or be sucked out through the window, and instead we landed just ahead of a dust storm. The car rental place is about 500 miles from the airport, so by the time I reached there, the dust storm was well and truly upon us. I sat for a while in the car to let the worse pass, then set out to find the motel. As I wound my way towards Apache Junction, lightning lit up the sky and rain pattered down. It was beautiful.

I slept rather badly, waking at 1am, 3am, 4am, and then about 5am. At least I'll sleep well tonight. I hope, anyway. I should get up. I think breakfast is starting soon and I haven't eaten since my afternoon scone on the flight over (a proper scone, complete with Rhodes clotted cream and strawberry jam! I was extremely pleased). Today, I'm winding my way round the Apache Trail, an old stagecoach trail that makes its way through the Superstition Mountains and was originally used by the Apache Indians. Of course, then it wasn't a stagecoach trail, it was just a trail. Anyway, it should be very beautiful, and also passes by Roosevelt Lake. From there, I'll head to Globe, Show Low, and finally Holbrook. It should be a good day.

Well I made it. I’m now on the bed in a lovely room at Globetrotter Lodge in Holbrook. There is some kind of tacky and terrible sci-fi film on, which is perfectly suitable really. I won’t watch it all though as, a) I’m writing this, and b) I’m going to go eat soon.

I set off shortly after the earlier writing, and headed straight for The Lost Dutchman's Gold Mine. I’d read that although it’s a tourist trap you can go before it opens and nose around for free. I did that. I had it to myself and it was cosy, but only worth a short stop. Besides, the Apache Trail was waiting!

Theodore Roosevelt says this about the trail:

And I’d have to agree. I suspect it was even grander before 4x4, but what can you do. Most of it was unpaved, and I do like a bit of unpaved road, and most of it I had to myself. It’s the kind of road that makes people wave at each other when you do pass someone.

That’s my favourite kind of road. Smiles and waves and a basic acknowledgement that, you know, this is pretty cool. I drove through miles and miles of rocky hills covered with saguaro, rugged and red, and beautiful. I stop off at Tortilla Flat, for no other reason other than to stop. This used to serve as a watering hole, way back when, and it still does. It has a population of 6. I’m not hungry but head into the restaurant anyway. I can probably eat some pie if I must. They don’t have pie but they do have the biggest cinnamon bun I’ve ever seen, and bottomless coffee. I have to tell the woman to stop filling up my cup or I’ll never leave. The walls are covered with one dollar notes. Too bad I’ve no cash. I eat, am disgusted with myself, and leave.

Red rocks turn into green hills, tarmac turns to dirt, and green hills turn back into red rock. The road winds down a mountain, just clinging to the edge. I look over once and then decide not to do it again. Just not worth it. I hit the bottom and push through to Apache Lake, welcome blue after so much red. 

Good!One of the many single lane bridges

It's dusty

I was a bit sad when I hit tarmac again, but Roosevelt Dam appears around the corner.

It’s a very nice dam too. Built from 1903 to 1911, it was made to do what dams are made to do: control water. I think it does it quite well, I’m not too sure. Lots of good and bad things to be said about dams really. Nice bridge too.

Interesting fact: the road is actually raised a bit towards the centre. If it was completely flat, from a distance it'd give drivers the impression that it was sagging

My next stop was Globe for lunch and a nose about. On the way I noticed a cave dwelling sign and I swerved to take a look. Ancient dwellings and the history of Arizona is fascinating. I didn’t think I’d really find it all that, but after visiting last year – especially Casa Grande – my mind was changed. I’m not entirely sure why, but it’s something I love. Show me a cave dwelling sign and I’m yours.

It was a short hike through lots of cacti up to the caves, where a ranger stood ready to answer all my questions. We mostly talked about littering and those pesky kids of today.

This is what a saguaro looks like when it dies. Did you know that? I didn’t know thatThe lovely named teddy-bear cholla

The buildings, or what’s left of them, are lovely. Vandalism and souvenir hunters from the early 1900s had made their mark, and what we’re left with today is significantly less than what was first photographed in 1903. Bloody people.

The view. Location location location

Even though they’re from the 14th century, you can still see fingerprints on the clay, the walls are still covered with soot, and some floors still remain. They are incredibly durable. All officially protected now so that’s good. I asked ranger about good eats in Globe, and he tells me about Guayos, a Mexican place he likes. Fine by me.

Odd how somewhere that looks so dodgy can be so good. One taco, one enchilada, rice and beans, and one root beer later, and I was back on the road.

I found the centre of Globe not long afterwards looking sad and quiet. Seeing as it was a Sunday everything was closed except for an antiques store that was about the size of the Albert Hall. I bought an ice-cream scooper-thing.

I wanted to visit the recently restored train station from 1916, but it was bloody closed. I looked through the windows and it looked good as well. Darn it. 

Back in the car, I check how long it’d take to get to my final destination for the day and am surprised to find it’ll take almost 3 hours. I’d forgotten how big this place is. That means I can't do the slightly more scenic route I had hoped to, but the route I take is beautiful too. Up over and through Salt River Canyon, through forests of pine trees, and across flat, empty plains on straight, straight roads. God, I love this state.

I pull into Holbrook at around 5.30. Once checked in, I take a stroll and visit the Wigwam Motel. I almost stayed here, but I didn’t. I can’t remember why now, but I did um and er for a long time… Anyway. The cars… Oh the cars! Look at the cars!

You want to buy me and restore me

There’s one parked outside almost every wigwam. Some are literally held together by string. Sad.

Holbrook is real Route 66 USA. I’m not sure what it is about it, but I have the feeling it hasn’t changed that much. All wide roads and motels. I’ll have to see if there’s lots of neon when I go out later. It’s oddly beautiful. In a derelict kind of way. It’s very similar to Globe in that for every three open shops, there’s one shut shop. It’s classic drive-thru small town America. Spacious, low, retro and quiet.

I’m hungry now. I’ve had an excellent first day. I can’t wait to head out tomorrow and explore a bit more, but I also can’t wait to eat, get back here, get into bed, and watch some terrible TV.