Big storm in the desert last night. Wind whipping trees, sky lit up like Christmas and rain as intense as it gets. Had some worries about the run to Kingman, 66 wasn't a sure thing like the Interstate. Lots of places, especially on that leg, where it dips and gets hit pretty hard with flash floods. It was all good, though, you could see where the water ran across, but; the road was in fine shape. Arizona does a good job with 66. It's rough around Oatman, but the rest of it is well cared for. Though Donkey crap can be a bit slick in the corners... The weather was terrific -- 84, bit of moisture in the air and a cool breeze (sometimes about 40 Kts. of cool breeze..) so the run was wonderful. The desert is green.
I have some great photos, but the internet connection and all these fancy programs are defeating me tonight. Nothing will upload.
Anyway, Oatman was what it is, a little, almost ghost town barely hangin' on through tourist trade. Today it was Germans. ("Of course I remember: you wore blue; the Germans wore grey." Love that line..."Casablanca" for all you kiddies.) A group of about 20 had flown in to LA, rented Harleys and were riding to the Grand Canyon. Nice folks. Met one guy, said hello in German and, thanks to Grandpa Happich, he naturally assumed I was a native speaker. Had to slow him down a bit (good thing "Huh???" translates to most languages). Turns out he is from the same town as my ancestors so, naturally, he started speaking Schwabish.Kind of fun, but, wow, am I rusty. He knows some Volkers and Happichs back home so his wife took pictures of us to show them their American "cousin". I've also got some great shots of some surprised folks getting pushed back into a store by a donkey who just had no manners.
Too bad I'm such a computer failure.
Got out of Oatman and did that great twistie run to Kingman to meet Skreeech. Sure is a fun road with vistas that remind me why I live in the West. Got into Kingman in good shape, then Skreeech, th' lil' bugger, called and said he was hung up and would meet me in Flagstaff. There in lies a story (not surprised are you, Bear?), but I'll get to that in a bit.
Ran the old road to Flag, up by Peach Springs and through Seligman (they say SEE-lig-MAN). Everybody there was French. Except for the Italian couple. We once again taxed my meager linguistic skills to the limit and, other than one or two possible international incidents, no harm was done. One place is straight out of "Cars", tow truck and all. But the Italian couple wasn't selling tires. Darn.
Hung on the Mother Road as long as I could, but inevitably, I had to hit I-40 for the last 50 miles.Man, those folks in Arizona make Californians look like 90 year olds on a Sunday drive. Speed limit's 75, but I don't think anyone goes under 100. I was loafing along at 90 and they passed me like I was standing still. Heck, the big rigs were doin' 80.
Now to Skreeech. So I roll into Flag, eyes as big as saucers, and call the boy. He's at the Maverick Market on 66. Just off 17 & 40. "You can't miss it". Those, my friends, are evil words. A curse actually. Plus, Skreeech uttered them. The Brethren of the Club will understand that one. Did you all know there is more than one Maverick Market in Flag? Additionally, there are approximately 846,378,246.25546 intersections with I-40 and I-17 in Flag. Plus, the entire city seems to be under construction. Especially the 846,378,246.25546 intersections with I-40 and I-17.
Suffice it to say that our 1200 lunch turned into a 1700 dinner.But it was good BBQ and darn good to see the boy. He's doin' OK, Brothers. Still workin' through some stuff but on the way up, I think. It was good to spend some time with him. I've missed him a lot.
He clipped off home on the I and I hit the old road again to Winona and the I into Winslow. Hit a little rain, but it was pleasantly cool the whole way.
Sorry about the pictures. I'll figure it out "if it hair lips the Governor". Sheesh, gettin' ready for Texas and I ain't even in New Mexico yet.
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