It’s warming up here, and the weather is fairly killer for riding. I had a chance to get the hell out of dodge last weekend for a couple of days and I took it. I had a killer month at work, and it just seemed right to make some miles somewhere. I was figuring north, back to my favorite road — Route 66. I haven’t ridden the southern part of the Colorado River in Arizona, so I wanted to see that too.
Interstate 17 is ass on any sort of holiday weekend. Arbor day, ground hog day, let alone Easter weekend. It was slow going, but I finally made it off the interstate and west toward the good stuff.
A good sign. I’m a sucker for a good historic roadJerome Arizona. This is the good stuff, a killer little historic Arizona mining town on the side of a hill. If you haven’t been here, it’s well worth checking out.The Partridge Creek Bridge was officially route 66 from the 20s to 1965. It’s a unique bridge that has a fully mature tree growing out of it. I first saw it in a biker mag in 1988, and shortly thereafter set out to see if we could figure out where it was. My wife and I would take weekend road trips to try and find it every weekend we could, and fell in love with route 66 along the way. This was before the internet and being able to look things up online. After 3 years we finally found it. It’s still one of my favorite spots on the mother road.
Partridge creek — Heading West.
I stayed the night in the Seligman KOA, roamed around and took some pictures of the local neon signs.
Woke up in the morning and headed to downtown seligman. I got molested by a bus full of Chinese Tourists where I had to educate them on the do’s and don’ts of touching an American mans bike, and headed down route 66 toward Kingman It was a pretty beautiful day to ride, and the weather was effing perfect.
The East side of Oatman road. this was route 66 up until 1953.Taking selfies like all the other Jackasses in Oatman.
Had me a tense moment eating lunch outside of Oatman and almost got into a fight with some prick. He backed out and walked away. It took me about 2 hours to calm down as I headed down the Colorado river and home.
I rode through the remains of what’s left of the Longhorn Ranch, and somehow I connected to this place. There’s not much left; A really bitchen old school sign, a burned down complex whats left of a motel and some trucks. I think the far end of the ranch is a strip club. You could tell this place had a heyday at some point: There’s some ghosts here, and I wanted to know it’s story…
The Longhorn Ranch. This place was an icon back back in a the day, and a major stop along Route 66.
7 miles east of Moriarty, the Longhorn is a bit out of place: it appears to be a motel, and out in the middle of nowhere, New Mexico. Other than that, there’s not much left. What happened?
But there’s a story here: the more I dug into it, the more it made sense and was a story I could relate to.
William Ehret was a patrolman in Lincoln County New Mexico in the late 1930s, and soon became a state Police Captain. Known by Bill to his friends; he was looking for something different. Being a policeman is exciting, but it also means time away from your family, long days on the road a ruthless boredom at times. Bill had a whole state to cover, but mainly patrolled a town a whole county of several cities, all with a whopping population of the time of about 14,000 people in a county of almost 5,000 square miles.
But there appeared to be opportunity ahead, and Mr. Ehret saw that. Bill saw that people were starting to travel west toward California, and Californians had the chance to Travel east. Route 66 had just changed it’s alignment from heading north into Santa Fe only 2 years ago, to cutting right across the center of the state More and more people were driving Route 66. Bill saw an opportunity, and a chance to try something new, which appealed to him. Just 80 miles north of Lincoln County, there was opportunity.
Bill Acquired a good sized piece of land, and at the age of 38 he started building this Longhorn Ranch with his 20 year old son. It was the golden age of travel, and America was just starting to stretch it’s legs. Captain Ehret was going to be part of that. He went to work and started building the Longhorn Ranch.
It started out as a 10 stool cafe, with a single counter and a curio shop. It expanded to include a gas station to invite even more travelers from the mother road.
The Longhorn Ranch Route 66 New Mexico 1940s. Bill put out his shingle, and people started stopping for gas, food and whatever else he could get into his store.
He started collecting taxidermy and western regalia (some historic) from all over the west and the enterprise soon included a garage, Museum and a 15 room Hotel. It eventually included a cowboy town, Indian dancers and Stagecoach rides. It became a main attraction on route 66, with the motto “where the west still lives.”
1940s postcard from the Longhorn Ranch“welcome, light and set a bit”
Bill saw his son who helped him build the place get married here in 1955, 15 years after they’d built it together. He was 53 years old, and like all pioneers he was looking to the next adventure. He’d conquered this portion of route 66, and had his eye toward other dreams. He sold the land within that year and went on to the next challenge.
But the Longhorn Lived on, under new management, with the same flair it had before. It had grown in reputation, and was one of the Largest and most vibrant tourist attractions along Route 66.
Stagecoach Rides? I’d have been all over this when I was a kid….
Bill Died in 1972 at the age of 70. He was an active Methodist, had several grandchildren and was an active and beloved member of his community. His son died in 2015.
The longhorn continued to thrive until the 70s, when interest in cowboy towns waned, cars could make it to Albuquerque without stopping, and Captain Bills little spot on route 66 got Bypassed by the interstate. There’s not much here now, just a few hundred yards off the highway. Most of it is burned down, but the memory remains of a man who helped build on the Legend of all the things we love about route 66. It’s people like Bill who made route 66 what it was (and is), living the American Dream and putting their shingle out to make something happen.
Stop by when you’re in the area. It’s still a bitchen little stop along route 66.
I was out of bed and on the road by the time the sun was up. The Monterey Motel was cool; Its always nice when you stay in a 1946 Motel on route 66. Its even better when its clean and has Wifi. I loaded up, and headed out up Central avenue to see some spots from one of my favorite series ever — Breaking Bad.
Jessie Pinkman sits at the Dog House in Albuquerque on Route 66, contemplating how the hell he’s going to get out of a mess. — Screenshot from the A&E Series Breaking Bad.
The Dog house today. It’s a route 66 institution in ABQ. I hear they make a helluva good chili cheese dog, but they weren’t open for breakfast. I’ll have to come back. Ever Seen Breaking Bad?
Just around the corner, about a mile away was another Breaking Bad spot: Jessie Pinkmans house. If you haven’t seen the series, you’re missing out — in my opinion it was one of the best written television series ever produced. For me, its right up there with The Rifleman, Then Came Bronson, and The original Star Trek.
Jessie Pinkmans House (bitch)– About a mile away from the Dog house off Route 66. Being a bald man with a goatee, I sorta giggled to myself as I got out to take the picture.
12 miles later, I found Saul Goodmans office on the other side of Albuquerque
Better Call Saul! — Screenshot from the Series
Saul Goodmans Office Today. Somehow, it seems fitting that its called the Dirty Burbon dance hall and saloon (in a strip mall). I love Irony.
About a mile away from that, was Walter White’s house. The home owners have been known to be cranky, but then again so have I. I was braced for confrontation, but they weren’t even up yet.
Walter and Skyler White’s house: 308 Negra Arroyo Lane, Albuquerque New Mexico.
It’s morning at the whites house. Too early if I can ask if I can throw a pizza on their roof? #IamTheOneWhoKnocks All joking aside, the owners have lived in this house for almost 40 years. Because idiots don’t understand respect, they’ve had to put up gates and surveillance.
The New Mexico sun was ascending, and I headed west down route 66 through central avenue and into downtown Albuquerque again. ABQ is pretty interesting. Its a mixture of modern, art deco, southwest, Neon, homeless people, history and weird art that I just don’t get. They have a Mass transit bus system that drives down the center of the street that I don’t think was really all that thought out… Some of it I absolutely was loving, some of it I could do without. It’s got an Art/Hippie vibe that is really not my thing. I know I sure as hell wouldn’t want to live here, but I also haven’t stopped thinking about going back there again to explore it yet again. I will.
The last motel on route 66 on the way out of town. I thought the Saguaro cactus sign was cool. I wouldn’t see real cacti like that for another 400 miles.
I hit interstate 40 for a while and was itching to get on a side road as soon as I could. It didn’t take long.
Owl Rock on an older alignment of route 66. This was called “dead mans curve” and it’s between Mesita and Laguna. A killer little stretch of road, if you want to get off the interstate.The Villa De Cubero Trading post on Route 66. Lots of history here.I hit old route 66 bridges….The Bluewater Motel in Bluewater New Mexico.
From Bluewater, I headed through Gallup and Grants along as much of route 66 as I could, and headed south to home.
Home is good. I passed up and didn’t document a whole lot of history and stories a long the way, but this trip wasn’t about documentation. It was about scouting the perimeter. It’s been a few since I’ve been this way, and I wanted to see it again. Shit changes. Hell, the world has changed. I’m just trying to keep up and enjoy the ride a long the way.
I woke up early, watched the sun come up in a Texas town I’ve never spent the night in, and just enjoyed the morning with a cup of motel coffee in my hand. Today I had a little time to just mozy a bit; It was 400 miles to Albuquerque, and that meant I could take some time to see a few things. I took a ride down the small but historic downtown of Shamrock, and doubled back down route 66.
I gotta say, I fucking love Texas. Texans are proud, independent and will talk straight to you no matter the subject. Reminds me of family reunions. I’m not a country music guy, but it seemed to make sense while I was crossing the panhandle, so I tuned in to the local radio stations. Simple, straight-up music in an area and people that I could describe as the same exact way. It somehow fit.
It was 22 miles to Mclean: Lots of Route 66 history here.
Stuff like this is Evidence of a good old Route 66 roadside attraction. Rattlesnakes. The sign itself was moved from Lela Texas, where it originally stood. There’s No rattlesnakes here, but it made me smile. If I was a kid in the 50’s I’m fairly sure I’d have been pounding on the rear car window for Dad to stop.
First Phillips gas station in Texas — Finished 2 years after route 66 even became an official road, it saw thousands of customers as they passed through Mclean and on down their way down the mother road.
From Mclean, I headed out of route 66 down interstate 40 to Groom Texas, taking as many side roads as I could.
In the 1980s, Ralph Britten originally bought this water tank from a nearby town for a water supply for his new venture. After he found out it wasn’t up to code, he put it on a tilt to bring in customers to his truck stop in Groom Texas. It became the leaning tower of Texas. It worked.
The Texas Panhandle is long and flat. In this part of the country, there’s only 1,000 feet of elevation difference between New Mexico and Oklahoma, so I made miles. The weather was warming up and the road was straight. I gotta say, I was enjoying every minute of it. I took all the side roads I could, got caught behind some farm equipment doing 20 mph, and you couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.
The very center of route 66 in Adrian Texas. I wanted some of that ugly crust pie at the mid point cafe, but everything was closed for the season, so I moved on.
I headed on to Glenrio and the state line.
On the state line of Texas and New Mexico, Glenrio is a perfect example of a route 66 town being bypassed. Just a few hundred yards off the interstate, Aside from a few residents, its a ghost town now.It didn’t used to be a ghost town…
On the west end of Tucumcari sits the Paradise Motel. Since the 1950’s this was the first Motel you hit when you came to Tucumcari heading east. Tucumcari is an epic route 66 stop, if you love road history.
Some asshole burned the paradise motel down 3 days later. The owner hauled the sign off last week. I can’t say that I blame him. I’m glad I got the pictures I did.
I headed west.
The Last Whiting brothers Gas Station Moriarty New Mexico route 66. Remains of the Whiting brothers gas station are all over the western part of route 66. They started in 1926, and sold gas and even motel rooms up and down route 66. This is the last one.
I headed down the frontage roads that used to be the old road and weaved my way down into Albuquerque. Heading down the canyon is killer part of route 66.
I crashed at the Monterey Motel for the night, and looked forward to the next day.
Central Avenue, Route 66 New Mexico. There’s new owners here; I met them and they have plans to preserve the place, and are contributors as well to the El Vado around the corner — They know what they have here; The spirit of route 66 is alive and well.
I had an opportunity last weekend to run the route I moved down here for: Route 66. I took it, and made some miles and headed toward Oklahoma.
I headed up out of phoenix, toward the Northeast side of Arizona.
Witch Well Arizona, on the east side of the state. I’m pretty sure this is the whole town. It looks like its still open. I bet there’s been some stories that have came out of this place on a Saturday night.
I Hit the state line, and into Gallup New Mexico on the mother road, hitting every side road and original piece of the old road I could.
The Rio Puerco Bridge. Built in 1933, 7 years after route 66 became an official road, this beauty lasted till 1999. It’s now being preserved by the New Mexico dept of Transportation…
Exit 0: Glenrio Texas is a perfect example of what happened when 1-40 bypassed Route 66. Right on the Texas/New Mexico Border, it had a gas station, garage and cafe and several residences there to support the town. Now, just 200 yards off the interstate, its a ghost town. I hit the border by dusk and managed to get a Texas Sunset shot. To me, this place is still pretty damn cool.
I made my way though the Texas Panhandle at night. It was awesome. Alice Cooper had a radio show where he played some of his own hits, gave some of his listeners shit and I had me a bit of a moment. The moon seemed full and the the road was straight and welcoming. I was getting tired. I had meant to hit Oklahoma, but I decided to stay in Shamrock Texas instead and decide what to do in the morning.
The famous U-Drop Inn in Shamrock Texas. Built in 1936. Was glad to hit it at night and see the neon. It used to be a Conoco Station and a cafe. She’s a beauty, methinks.
I’d meant to bust the drone out and get some cool night shots, but it was windy and I didn’t want to pick a thousand dollar drone off a historic Texas Route 66 building in the middle of the night. My better sense prevailed (I don’t have much), and I headed to the Motel about a half mile down the road and hit the sack. I figured I’d double back tomorrow, see the things I’d missed in the dark and enjoy the next 2 days home.
One of the first things I thought about moving to Phoenix was relief. Relief that I didn’t have to be trapped by weather to not go riding whenever I wanted to in December, or whenever. Sure, it gets hotter than hell down here, but you don’t slide sideways into a ditch because of the heat, and you sure as fuck don’t have to shovel it off your doorstep in the mornings and scrape it off the windows. If you live in the desert long enough, you become a desert rat, at least I did. I’m lucky enough that my wife is on board and she loves the desert as much as I do. To me, the Desert means freedom.
I didn’t exactly know what the Monsoons were though before I moved down here. You still have the check the weather to go for long rides, because the thunderstorms down here are biblical. The dust storms that sometimes precede them are pretty epic as well. This ride had been planned 2 weeks earlier, and although I don’t really mind riding in the rain, its better if the weather is good. It looked like it was going to be nice this last weekend, and Friday morning I loaded up the bike and planned to leave early and get to Albuquerque and explore some new roads I’ve never seen. Once there, I’d figure it out where to go next on Saturday morning.
My Boss is always telling me I need to come to work prepared…
I left work around 1 and hit the road, up Arizona 97 toward Payson and into some higher country. It was around 110 degrees and pretty hot, but the road climbed quickly and I knew it wouldn’t last long.
Star Valley Arizona – Resting my ass and taking in the scenery
I got out before the weekend traffic and the roads were killer, and the weather cooled down 25 degrees. It was awesome. This has always been my theory: It takes 3 days to have a good ride, at least: the first day all the bullshit drains out, the second day you feel like yourself again, and the third day is just pure inspiration. I think the more of a 2 lane road you get the faster the bullshit drains out, and as I got further and further away from home the ride just kept getting better. I was starting to realize I had a whole weekend of this. It was starting to get really damn enjoyable.
I went through Springerville AZ, gassed up, stuffed some beef jerky into my vest pocket and headed on down the road — the sun was going down and I wanted to see as much of the country as I could. I knew I’d be pulling into Albuquerque in the dark. I hit the road. The sunset was at my back and the shadows were getting tall and the weather a little cooler. Perfect riding.
Welcome to New Mexico. I hit the border by dusk and saw the landscape start to open up, New Mexico Style.
About a half an hour later, it was dark. I started heading north on New Mexico 36, and decided I wasn’t going to make ABQ tonight. I knew there was a KOA in Grants that was closer, so I decided to ride there, crash for the night and figure it out in the morning. I twisted the throttle and enjoyed the ride, happy in my new plan.
You gotta love riding at night in the Desert, especially on a new road. Up north, I always worried about critters on the road like Deer, elk and even moose at night. I suck at spotting Deer during the day, let alone at night. A perk of the desert is the night riding. You can relax a little, sing out loud without looking like a moron, and enjoy the ride.
Somewhere outside Techado New Mexico.
I passed some pretty cool scenery I think the last 40 miles into Grants. It was pitch dark with no moon but my headlight was picking up the sides of some massive rock formations. The turns in the road said this was interesting terrain, I just couldn’t see any of it. Another nice surprise that I’ll need to go back and check out. El Malpais National Monument is what I was missing it turns out. Even as I type this out I’m curious as to what I missed — I’ll go back again.
I rolled into Grants about 10pm. The Lady at the KOA was a sweetheart and gave me an upgrade from a tent spot to a cabin for 10 bucks. I guess the thought of setting up a tent and sleeping on the ground made me an easy sell. I called Missus Zip, watched the local news, checked the weather and was asleep in an hour.
Day 2:
I was up at 5. Some call it a curse to be an early riser, but by God I think its a blessing. Especially on a route 66 road trip by yourself. I was stoked, and the day was mine.
My $10 cabin upgrade on a route 66 morning. A New Mexico Sunrise
I showered, watched a couple of Episodes of the Rifleman while I drank coffee and it warmed up a little. I decided to head Toward Albuquerque on route 66 and double back toward Flagstaff
Wait though, the Rifleman — I’ve never watched it before. Two thumbs up!!
Budville New Mexico Route 66
Budville New Mexico Route 66 – Bitchen old sign.
Budville was named after “Bud” Rice who was a character of sorts. Some loved him, some hated him. He was a local entrepreneur, philanthropist, Justice of the peace and some say local con-man. He ran this place from 1929 to 1967 when someone robbed the place and shot him in front of his wife Flossie. The crime was never solved. Budville Trading company was open for 66 years and finally closed in 1994. Lots of Stories on Route 66….Looks like Bud even had him some shacks you could rent for the night, motor court style.
San Fidel New Mexico Route 66
An Old Whiting Brothers Gas Station Sign — San Fidel New Mexico
There used to be hundreds of Whiting Brothers filling stations across the US — at least 40 on route 66 alone. Started in 1926 with the birth of route 66, they included gas, groceries, motels with a slogan of “quality gas for less.” The business slowed in the 70s with the fuel shortages and the building of the Interstate. By the 80s, they were all but gone.
Lots of Ghosts here. If you keep your eyes peeled, you’ll still see Whiting Brothers signs all up and down route 66 today. There’s a restored one in Moriarty New Mexico, East of ABQ.
I was glad I doubled back. It rained a little here and there, but I was enjoying the 160 mile ride from Grants to Albuquerque to Grants again. I wished I’d had taken more pictures.
Grants has lots of great history — It started out as a railroad town in the 1880s, became a logging town till the 1930s, and was mostly known as a Uranium mining town till the 1980s. When the mining boom ended, Grants went through a pretty rough time. Tourism and the resurgence of Route 66 has brought it back. Its still one of my favorite route 66 towns.
Grants New Mexico Cafe
I stayed on route 66 west bound, avoiding as much interstate as I could. The clouds and rain started to clear, and the sky started opening up. It was turning out to be a helluva good day to ride.
The Continental Divide – New Mexico
I rode through Gallup and on through the border back into Arizona.
Side note: One of the things about riding is you don’t miss much of the experience. You’re part of it, rather than just observing it. The heat, the cold, the weather, the smells. It heightens your senses I think. I noticed the predominant smell in New Mexico is weed. Most of the place smells like Marijuana, and I don’t know why. I think everyone smokes pot there. Just an observation…
Arizona Route 66!
Chief Yellowhorse — A route 66 Classic. Right on the Arizona/New Mexico Border
If you don’t rubberneck and look for side roads, or have a good Route 66 map made by those in the know, you’ll miss a lot of great spots on the Mother road. The interstate signs don’t always tell you where some of the best parts of route 66 are. This is one of my favorites — the Querino Canyon Bridge.
Querino Canyon Bridge, Houck Arizona — This was route 66 from 1929 to the 1960s when they built the Interstate. It still serves the local traffic. Querino Canyon Bridge. She’s a beautiful old Gal….
It started getting hotter as I rolled on through Joseph city, Jackrabbit City, did a couple of laps through Winslow. I opened it up and headed toward Flagstaff.
I rolled into flagstaff KOA that evening after riding for 12 hours, feeling pretty tired and just wanting to set up my tent and crash for the night. I rolled into my tent spot and my overly-enthusiastic camping neighbor was on me before I could even shut the bike off. I could appreciate that kind of friendliness normally, but I guess he couldn’t see by the look on my face that I was beat, and it wasn’t all that mutual right now. He kept touching my bike, peppering me with questions about where I’d been, what year my bike was, how long I’d been riding….. it to the point I thought there was something wrong with this guy.
He asked what I did; I looked at him and said — “I just got out of Prison and I’m re-building my life”.
It worked.
I set up my tent, called missus Zip to let her know I was ok, and crashed for the night.
Day 3: Flagstaff to Home
I woke up, showered and broke down my tent. It’d been a damn fine ride, and I could be home in 2 hours if I hauled ass, but I wasn’t ready to end my ride.
Getting ready to break camp and head home from Flagstaff
Heading down the 17 into the Valley
I got off the interstate as quick as I could, and hit the back roads toward Payson AZ again to head home. Another new road.
The road from Camp Verde is an awesome ride, one I’ll want to take again. Back on AZ 87, heading toward PaysonBike Selfie.
Arizona is my favorite state. It has it all: The desert valleys, lots of old history, mountainous Ponderosa pine forests, sane gun laws, the Grand Canyon, route 66 and high desert plains. I rolled down slowly off the mountain and found a couple of cool little towns I want to go back and explore again. Strawberry AZ and Pine AZ. Lots of bikers and twisty forest roads.
The traffic was heavy coming off the mountain. I was tired of following cars so I took a side road toward a historical marker in Strawberry Arizona.
The oldest standing schoolhouse in Arizona. 1884.
I stopped and ate in Payson, and headed on down the road (and into the heat again) toward Home.
I’ve been chomping at the bit to make a few miles since I moved here 6 months ago, and I finally got my chance. Twist a throttle, see a thing and get out of town.
Wednesday morning at 6 AM I hit the road. The thing about the desert in the summer, is you have to hit the road early; its the coolest time of the day. Heat wears you out on long rides and if you can, avoid it. It’s the secret to riding in Southern Arizona.
My dad always said take twice the money and half the clothes. I loaded up the night before, got the rest in the morning and got the hell out of town. With the morning commute going, it took about an hour to get out of the city. I hit the 17 and headed north. The road opened up and a killer day was ahead. Up to the Mountains of Flagstaff. The weather got cooler, and the ride more focused; It was turning out to be a fucking cool ride.
500 Miles to St George Utah
Life can load you up with insignificant bullshit over time. This ride was to get some of that out, examine it and see it for what it was. It’s funny how a long ride can do that. I’ve always said that you need a 3 day ride; the first day all the bullshit drains out — the second day you are back to being yourself; the 3rd day is pure inspiration. I was on day 1 of a long ride. The bullshit drained out pretty fast. I had time, and there was lots of road ahead.
I got gas in Flagstaff, and up through the best road in Arizona — the Sunset Crater/Waputki Loop. It’s on the edge of the Mountains and the high plains, and you get a little of both.
Sunset Crater. The best road in Arizona
Up through my old stomping grounds of Northern Arizona and Southern Utah, I finally landed to see an old friend in St George, 500 miles later. It was good to see him. We hung out in his garage and drank beer till 1:30 in the morning. A much needed shot in the arm. Good old friends are a rarity; I’ve had a few, but maybe this was one of the best. We laughed, bitched, and solved the worlds problems all in his garage. It was a killer evening.
I loaded up and rode down to the Harley Dealership to get a new back tire. It took them about 2 hours, and a little bit of bullshit to get it done. I rolled out, and headed south on 1-15.
I hit the Overton Nevada loop to get off the Interstate. Great side route, but its always been full of those tar snakes that in the heat, make your bike get all squirrely: They’d paved that road since I was last on it, and it was pretty nice. it was 2 hours of a great ride. All to the Eagles. I twisted through some desert turns in the 100 degree heat, and milked the hell out of the fact that this was a great ride already on day 2. I decided to ride into Needles California instead of Kingman AZ for the night. Maybe I could see a little more road, and milk it out some that way. My only other option was Barstow, but I didn’t want to ride that much of the Interstate.
I rolled into Needles California and found an old familiar sign:
The Mother Road
Needles was hot. 105 degrees. I got a room for the night, cranked up the AC and tried to find the Penguins game on TV. It was the playoffs, but apparently this motel didn’t have that channel. No matter; Mrs Zip kept me in the loop over text as to the score. I was beat, and eventually fell asleep before I’d learned the ending. I woke up to find we’d won the series and was moving on to the Stanley Cup Finals. Hell yes.
I got back on the road and headed East. Toward Oatman. Crossed the mighty Colorado river:
A beautiful Colorado River Morning
I got a gopro about a year ago, and have been screwing around with it a little bit. I shot some footage that didn’t turn out, but shot a few that did.
There’s a lot of movie history at the Colorado River:
I’d argue that Steppenwolf and Easy rider made Peter Fonda famous here.
I’d also Argue that his father Henry Fonda at a young age also got famous here from the Grapes of Wrath:
The Grapes of wrath: This bridge is still there.
Same Bridge, from the movie: The bridge in the foreground was torn down in 1977, but the Grapes of wrath bridge pre-dating route 66 is still there, and supports a pipe line now.
Then, I rode into one of my favorite places: Oatman Arizona.
Oatman Arizona in the mornin
I rolled through Kingman, and north into route 66. I enjoy the hell out of that ride. the weather was cool and my bike purred. I don’t know that I’ll ever get sick of that road. I took as much of the side roads as I could, and by dusk I camped out in Bellemont Arizona on old route 66.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eTY2Z0XBiQg
I broke my phone somehow on this trip, and lost a lot of my pictures, or I’d have more. I had some cool shots. Dammit….Shit does happen 🙂
It was nice and cool in Flagstaff. I rode through Winslow, and headed south to home.
Great ride. There’s so much of Arizona I want to explore and will. This was kind a re-connection trip. See an old friend, re-visit some old roads I’ve ridden before and see how things have changed. A lot has. For the better.
I think it’s time to head east now, maybe to Santa Fe, West Texas or even Oklahoma. There’s plenty of road to explore.
