OATMAN, ARIZONA - Route 66

Immediately upon entering Oatman - it is apparent that you've just entered an old frontier town like you have never experienced before. The fuzzy burro loitering in the middle of the street is the first clue. This radical throw-back of a town is small, but everything in it is unique. The whole experience is especially enhanced after the fantastic ride across desolate lands, before entering this time-warp. Your primed and ready. Inspired. It's like stumbling upon the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. You can have the big cities. This is my kind of town. Americana.



This colorful ghost town that refuses to die was founded sometime around 1906. By 1931, the area's mines had produced over 1.8 million ounces of gold. By the mid 1930's, the boom was over and in 1942 the last remaining mines were closed as nonessential to the war effort.



Burros first came to Oatman with early day prospectors. The animals were also used inside the mines for hauling rock and ore. Outside the mines, Burros were used for hauling water and supplies. As the mines closed and people moved away, the burros were released into the surrounding hills.

The burros in Oatman today, while descendents of domestic work animals, are themselves wild. While they appear to be docile - they could bite and kick. Burros can smell water from 20 mile's away. They carry their babies for 11 months.



This is the site (picture below) of what used to be the Arizona Hotel. In 1915, it was one of seven hotels that existed in Oatman during the early years. The hotel had 45 rooms and numerous baths. It had concrete fire walls and two seperate water mains for fire protection purposes. Being in the southern end of town it survived the "Great Fire of 1921", which took out most of the buildings in the northern end of town. It was torn down in the early 1950's to reduce property taxes. All that remains of the Arizona Hotel today is the concrete vault and the crumbling concrete walls.



I noticed this fascinating old picture of the town hanging on the wall, while eating breakfast at Olive Oatmans. I'll bet one of those old hotels is the Arizona Hotel. Check out the early American cars and the sign that says Ford Service and Dodge Brothers. That is going back a ways.



-The wooden sidewalks of Oatman leading to Olive Oatmans Restaurant.



Breakfast was satisfactory and surprisingly served on paper plates. This is done in order to restrict water consumption. Must be an issue out there in the middle of nowhere.

If you can zoom in on the picture of Olive in the sign above the restaurant, you will notice the odd markings on her chin. 



The story goes:

Her and her family (seven children with parents) were traveling by wagon train from Illinois to California. Her family was attacked by Apaches. Her brother Lorenzo was left for dead, Olive and her sister were captured, while the rest of the family was massacred.

The girls were held as slaves for a year before being sold to a Mojave chief near Needles, California, after a march of several hundred miles.

Olive and Mary's chins were marked with indelible blue cactus tattoos to proclaim their status as slaves, and they were forced to forage for their own food. In a subsequent year of draught, Mary died of starvation and abuse.

Eventually, the Army located her and began negotiations to free her. On February 28, 1856, wearing a bark skirt and able to speak only a little English, Olive was ransomed at Fort Yuma, Arizona for a horse, blankets, and beads. There she was reunited with her brother Lorenzo, who had survived the massacre.

- Before departing Olive Oatman's and continuing west, I left my mark on the bathroom chalkboard.