I was up at my usual 7:00. Breakfast was leftover pizza from last night. It’s another beautiful morning albeit on the chilly side. Almost chilly enough to pull my jacket out. I was packed, loaded and rolled out before 9:00.
I have two quick stops here in Grants before heading out of town. The first is the Sands Motel. There’s something about the name of the motel that makes me want to stop but I may be thinking of Las Vegas. Elvis purportedly was a guest at this motel once though. My second stop is a drive thru neon sign near the edge of town. I meet a few guys I recognized from yesterday at the Blue Swallow. We chat for a few moments until somebody else pulls up behind me and then I’m off.
Most of the day is spent on I-40 as much of the old Route 66 is now gone. My first stop outside of Grants is at the Continental Divide where I get off of the interstate for a few minutes. All of the water west of here flows to the Pacific Ocean and all the water east towards the Atlantic. I’m at over 7,000 feet in elevation here. There’s nothing fancy about the spot, it’s just a sign. I follow the road past the on ramp and come to my first dead end. Thankfully it’s less than a mile down and the road actually makes a small roundabout to get you turned back around. Route 66 is back on the interstate.
There’s nothing left in New Mexico that makes me want to stop but I do pull off in Gallup to grab some water. It’s here that I meet a Ukrainian man with his two four year old twin boys. They want to sit on the bike and I’m hesitant to let them as it’s very hot and I’d hate for someone to burn themselves. But his English is very good so I know he understands the caution the needs to be heeded. We get each boy in the saddle and he gets a photo. We talk for a few minutes and I learn that he moved his family to the states in 2023 to escape the war. He no longer has a home in the Ukraine. He’s been trying to get citizenship but has been unable to due to current immigration policies. It’s heartbreaking to actually meet someone who wants to be here legally and is unable to do so. He plans to move his family to another country early next year where they’ll be able to gain citizenship and be able to call somewhere home again.
I soon cross into Arizona and the bright red rocks of seen in New Mexico fade to a dull grey. I notice a few miles in state that my clock has rolled back another hour, I wasn’t expecting to gain an hour until I hit the Pacific time zone near the California border. I had forgotten that Arizona does not observe Daylight Savings Time which means they’re two hours behind us. The land flattens out and there’s not much out here but short vegetation.
I pass by a few small towns with nothing worth stopping for, what I really want to see is in Holbrook. Old Route 66 runs through town so I exit the interstate and make my way to the Wigwam Motel. I was hoping to time my trip to be able to spend a night here but it’s only 11:00 here, the office isn’t even open yet. There are several old cars parked in the front of the units. One old tow truck is labeled as Tow Mater’s Grand Pappy, another as Doc Hudson as it’s the same model car that the Doc was. There’s also several piece of petrified wood placed around the lot. Thought the office is closed, I was able to get a peek inside one of the rooms being cleaned. They’re small but cozy. They have a small TV, what looks a like a very small bathroom and a single window that sits about waist level. Their rates run about $115 a night.
At the edge of town I notice another drive thru sign and pull in for another photo. I’m sure these signs look great at night with their neon lights glowing. I am again forced to get onto I-40 at town’s end. The redness of the dirt and rock start to return but not as bright as in New Mexico. My next stop is in Winslow to visit the corner again. I stopped here before on my trip to cover the western states. There’s a lot more people about this time, though it’s much earlier in the day. Last time was on a Sunday as well but it was later in the day, most of the establishments were already closed. They’ve added a few things it seems as well. I notice a few things that I don’t remember seeing last time. There’s a metal set of wings mounted on the wall for that angel wings photo op people like to do. I also notice the Flatbed Cafe and in the center of the intersection is painted a large Arizona Route 66 sign.
I skip the meteor crater as I’ve seen it before and I don’t feel its worth the time to stop and see it again, I’m sure it looks the same. I run into a little bit of rain heading towards Flagstaff. Just a small rain cloud trying it’s best to wet the earth. It only lasts for a couple of minutes and I don’t get wet. The road begins to run across canyons and the wind begins to pick up a little. Clouds darker than I’d like to see sit above. By the time I hit Flagstaff it’s time to pull off and get some lunch. I take the first exit and immediately happen upon Dirty Birdies Sports Bar & Grill, perfect. I contemplate covering my bag just in case but decide to wait. The place is packed as it’s Sunday and week one of the NFL season, but I’m able to find a seat at the bar. It’s very loud in here and a few particular patrons are overly so. Lunch is a beef and cheddar melt sandwich with grilled hatch chilis and tomatoes. It good but I can’t taste the chilis or the tomatoes. I check the weather ahead and decide to hang out for a bit and watch some football while I let some rain move out of my path. I’ve got time to waste with the added hour.
I spend a few moments outside deciding whether or not to cover my bag and possibly suit up in my rain gear. Ultimately I decide to do neither, the rain I might hit shouldn’t be too heavy and shouldn’t last long. Leaving out of Flagstaff the desert is gone and I am now running through the tree covered mountains. Rain clouds surround me but there’s a clear and sunny right in the middle of my view. The road winds through the hills, pointing me towards the sunlight and back towards certain wetness. I catch a good spattering of rain as I get closer to my destination for the day. It comes in large drops and only lasts for a few miles and again I don’t get very wet. About 15 miles out the route leaves the interstate, which is good because the highway has recently been rained on and I’m catching a lot of spray from all the other vehicles on the road. Getting back onto two lane road means less traffic and less dirty water in my face.
As I approach Seligman I catch one more small round of rain. Another set that lasts for just a few minutes. When I get close to town Burma Shave signs start to pop up. They’re obviously modern signs but may just be replacements for the old ones. Seligman is touted as being the inspiration for the movie Cars. Seligman had it’s heyday after World War II with returning veterans and other motorist making the southwest a popular tourist destination. That all changed once I-40 was constructed just a few mile south of town. Like many towns along Route 66, Seligman was mostly forgotten. It was no longer a town you passed through, is was a town you passed by. Kind of like Radiator Springs. I can sort of see the inspiration for the movie, but not a single car in this town has talked, just sayin’.
Camp is at the KOA just east of town. They don’t offer any camp sites with electric so I’m in a cabin with an extremely hard 4 inch mattress. Dinner is at the Road Kill Cafe. A neat little spot next to the Route 66 Motel. Everything on the menu has a quirky roadkill name. I opt for the Bad Brakes Steak which is chicken fried steak. It’s exceptionally good.
I head across the street to grab some beverages for the night and notice another photo spot. It’s a large Route 66 sign with Lightning and Mater painted on the wall. I notice a couple getting some photos so head into the store to grab what I want. When I came out the couple was still there. We offered to take photos for each other and I learned that they are from New Jersey. They flew into Las Vegas and are making a loop on rented bikes. They plan to hit the Grand Canyon, Petrified Forest and more before getting back to Vegas to fly home.
Camp is quiet as it usually is. Wasn’t much activity before the sun went down either, it’s not very full. I’ve only been able to have one campfire so far this trip. Most places along the route are under burn bans. The one place I thought would have a ban is Arizona, but it’s been a wet year so I get one tonight. Tomorrow I’ll make what promises to be a great ride through some small towns, one occupied by wild donkeys. Hopefully it’s a rain free day because some of the roadway cuts through some mountainous areas. I hope to at least reach Barstow, California so I can complete the route the following day and begin my trek back home.
