Wandering the Desert - April 2017

 After finishing up the remainder of the Back-Country Byway in western Arizona - the ST and I crossed the Colorado River at the western Arizona border and slipped into California.

It felt really good to have finally made it all the way out to California on one of my two-wheeled mounts. For so many years I've been relentlessly pounding the pavement in the east. New scenery and new states were desperately needed.



Shortly after entering California and heading north for Nevada, I'd become turned around with the multiple signs for 95. While in a gas station, inquiring about directions, a UPS driver who was taking a break and cooling off inside filled me in. He mentioned there were multiple roads designated 95 that came through here and that it was indeed confusing if you were not familiar with the road system in this area.

- Caught this shot on the fly.



It was getting hot out there in the Mojave too. Real hot for this Northerner in April. It was in the 90's and the sun was smokin'. Guzzled down some waters. Stuffed a few in my saddlebags. Then proceeded to purchase a stick of sunscreen to apply to my face. If I was going to wander around the desert for the day, I'd better be prepared.



Entered Nevada and snapped off a picture with the state sign. Crossing state lines and snagging pictures with state signs is something that really appeals to me. It is one of many little things that inspire me; miniature milestones to gather up along the way. 



Some people like to say, "It's the journey and not the destination." I don't totally agree with this. Why would I be so naive as to think I can only focus on, or only enjoy, one or the other? For me, It's about both! The journey is wonderful. But I also feel an overwhelming sense of satisfaction from riding accomplishments and reaching destinations; on some days the emphasis is on the journey and others its more about the destination. Ideally, a nice blend of both is best.

Passed by Laughlin. No need to stop there. I'd rather just ride around the desert. "I've no desire to loose money that I can't afford, in pursuit of money that I don't deserve."



Then I jumped on 163 west across some more barren desert and mountains. Followed that to one of the other 95's. Took that south back into California. It was hot out there, but peacefull. And not many cars or people. I like that. You can just ride and relax.



Followed 95 down to another old alignment of Route 66 that runs you parallel to a train track - and through the nearly empty town of Goffs.



This dumped me back out onto Interstate 40, which I promptly continued heading west on. Figured I would continue on to either Ludlow or Barstow. I'd heard of some cool Route 66 diners and motels that resided there. But, I didn't get far before construction slowed me down to a crawl. After many miles of the construction and no end in sight, I wheeled around and headed back east for Needles. My trip was coming to an end anyway. The next morning I'd split for back home at a blistering pace. So, I'd roll back into Needles to stage myself for a big push back east and find a cozy (cheap) motel for the night. Eat. Rehydrate. Look around town - and get a little sleep.

BACK COUNTRY BYWAY - ARIZONA

 Rolling on the throttle and leaving Oatman behind, the ST and I plunged back out into the open desert. Still heading west. Even though the exhilarating hairpins through the Black Mountains were all conquered, this stretch of dessicated desert was impressive in it's own way. Plus it was relaxing and serene.



Oatman was approximately the half-way point on the 42-mile Route 66 Historic Back Country Byway. This byway starts about 5-miles south of Kingman in McConnico and then ends to the southwest at Topock/Golden Shores. So, I was only about 25-miles from crossing the Colorado River into California !







In the middle of the desert, in a gravel parking area, was a kiosk containing some historic information pertaining to Route 66 over the years. I'll share the light-reading "Americana" history with you.



The Changing Decades ...

In the decades between the 1930's and 1950's, travelers along Historic Route 66 changed markedly ... along with their hopes and dreams, their vehicles and accomodations, and their perspective of the Black Mountains.

Dust, Depression, and the Promised Land:

A half-million people migrated from the Dust Bowl states to the fertile California fields during the Depression Era of the 1930's. Carrying all their worldly possessions in their Model A or Model T Fords, these hearty migrants feared the steep, winding grades of Route 66 over the Black Mountains. Many even hired local residents to drive or tow their car over the dreaded Sitgreaves Pass in the cool of evening before crossing the Colorado into the Mojave Desert.

Glamour, Convertibles, and Adventure:

As prosperity followed World War II, military convoys were replaced by convertibles and the glitz of Hollywood. Movie stars joined other travelers on Route 66 seeking the adventure of the open road, and the roadside camps of the 1930's grew into businesses to serve the new fun-seekers. Their view of the Black Mountains changed from an obstacle of nature to an adventurous challenge. Here too, crossings were not only east to west, but also west to east - and back again !

Gateway to the Southwest:

The 1950's brought a surge in that new American phenomenon - the family vacation. Route 66 enticed travelers to and through the heartland of the scenic Southwest. Although improvements in the family station wagon made driving easier, drivers also wanted faster roadways through flatter landscapes. In 1953, Route 66 was officially rerouted through Yucca and away from the Black Mountains - one less obstacle to cross-country travel.
A New Vision



While the popular television program "Route 66" ran it's course, the view of the Black Mountains shifted from winding barrier to one of scenic beauty and valuable resources. The mountains still hold visions of America's past, such as remnants of the mining community of Gold Road and the nostalgic flavor of Oatman. But the mountains also house 150,000 acres of wilderness and the largest herds of wild burros and desert bighorn sheep in Arizona. Clearly the Black Mountains have remained a constant in a changing world.

Get Your Kicks ...

Whatever brings you here - scenic beauty, history, or nostalgia - follow the Main Street of America through the Black mountains. Witness the striking beauty of the mountains at sunrise, hear the bray of a distant burro, spot bighorn on a rocky crag. Whatever you want, you'll likely find it ... ON ROUTE 66.

More of Oatman, Arizona (April 2017)

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.

The Road to Oatman - Route 66

Refered to as the "Mohave Rattlesnake" by the locals, this just may be the best alignment of old Route 66. Admittedly, I have not traversed the route in it's entirety, but it just can't get any better than this. This freshly paved and striped section of asphalt wends it's way through 222 curves over a distance of 10 miles - within the rugged Black Mountains. 



The layout - and occasional extremely tight hairpin - of this road was so impressive that at one point I'd dismounted and scrambled up the craggy hillside in pursuit of some elevation in order to capture a fuller perspective.










The "Mighty ST" carved and clawed it's way up to Sitgreaves Pass at approximately 3,500 feet above sea level. A pause here was taken - as it affords a distant view of Arizona, Nevada, and California simultaneously. Supposedly, this is the highest point along Route 66.

From this location (Sitgreaves Pass) another special place came into view. Sacred place would be more appropriate. Just as your about to exit a 180-degree descending curve, there is a large gravel pull-off along the shoulder of the road. It leads up to a knoll overlooking the mountainous terrain. You can make this out in the picture below.



"Crash and Burn, all the Stars Explode Tonight"

Littered along this hillside are many memorials to deceased, but not forgotten, loved ones. Their cremains scattered freely amongst this wild western land. Their souls now uninhibited.



As you stand isolated on this rocky knoll, looking out over the vastness of the mountainous desert, in complete silence other than a warm fluttering breeze that rattles your clothing and whispers into your ear - an eerie reverence quickly overwhelms your deepest being.

More of Cool Springs, Arizona - Route 66

COOL SPRINGS, ARIZONA - Route 66

Another glorious morning. The ST shot across the Mohave Desert towards the Black Mountains. Heading west out of Kingman on Oatman Road (Old Route 66). Nothing stirred out there that early. Total serenity. The overlanding is exceptional in those parts.

Just at the fringe of the Black Mountains, where they meet the desert floor, the lonely Cool Springs Station came startlingly into view. It was just sitting there in the middle of nowhere. A pleasant surprise. The moment it came into view, I instantly recollected seeing pictures of it in the past - as it sits imposingly isolated in such a stark landscape. Although, it's location was originally unknown to me; so another randomly bonus-like experience falls into my lap. Life may be good, but life on the road is better.



It was still too early for the shop to be open. Not so bad. This just added to the isolated peacefulness of the moment. Be here now.

This culturally significant icon of the Mother Road opened as a gas station in 1927, burned down in 1966, and was re-created in 2001. It re-opened as a gift shop, snack bar, and museum.