Heading To Holbrook

After a much welcome rest day in Flagstaff, we got back on the road today.  While in Flagstaff, we were able to view the solar eclipse yesterday and, since no one appears to be blind today, we must have been using the appropriate eye protection.  Yesterday was also bike cleaning day, since we collectively picked up half the Mojave and Sonora deserts on our drive trains.

We stayed at one of the larger hotels in Flagstaff (six floors, no less).  I mention this only because one would think that we riders would be lost in the anonymity that these hotels generally afford to their guests.  However, on the contrary, we were treated like celebrities (alright, mildly interesting people) with other guests approaching us on the elevators and in the lobby even when we were dressed in our civvies.  This actually has been a recurring theme wherever we have gone.  People are intrigued by the outrageousness of the idea.  I had a car full of tourists approach me today in Winslow and the driver actually stopped on a major highway while he asked me many questions about the ride.

Before getting into today's ride, I would also like to report that of the several local people in Flagstaff and Prescott to whom I asked the question "How do you like living here?", they replied, to a person, "I love it!".  Not so sure that I would get such an effusive response if I surveyed people in my part of the world.  What both of these towns have in common is nice weather, universities, significant natural beauty, and extensive outdoor activities.  Great combination. 

As we rode out of Flagstaff, we had another cool, invigorating start to the day.  The high plateau brings with it clean, fresh air and the cattle seem to like it as well.  The outlying mountains were now very distant.  Also had a decent tailwind and a descent from 6900 ft to roughly 5000 ft.  Things were definitely looking up.  We averaged over 20 mph for the for the first 50 miles.

Due to the poor condition of US 66 in many places, we rode most of the day on I-40.  Again, this was with the approval of the Arizona Highway Patrol.  Fortunately, we were able to rejoin US 66 in Winslow for a stretch. 

This historic highway has special significance to me because, as a young lad in the 1950's and 60's, I made many a cross country trip with my parents.  This was when the Interstates were only a twinkle in the eye of President Eisenhower;  Congress passed the Interstate Highway Act in 1956.  For those old enough to remember, Burma Shave signs and Whiting Brothers gas stations peppered the landscape along with Indian trading posts.  Enough nostalgia.

We spent virtually the entire day paralleling the railroad tracks.  The railroad here  was originally known as the Southern Pacific but now goes by BNSF (Burlington Northern Santa Fe).  What was remarkable was that we could hear the powerful roar of  four diesel locomotives pulling freight trains that seemed to have no end.  As the cars rumbled by, probably 500 ft away, you could hear the drone of the railcar wheels and an occasional wail of the air horns.  It brought to life how big a deal the railroad must have been to the development of this part of the country.  Like smelling the ponderosa pines for hours in the Coconino National Forest, this is something that you can't experience from a car.

A ride through Winslow wouldn't be complete without Standin' On The Corner,

Yes, that would be the flatbed Ford

One other stop in Winslow was the La Posada.  This is a historic hotel that counts presidents, royalty and Hollywood stars among its illustrious guests.  Diana and I stayed there in 2007 but they haven't named a room after us yet but I understand that it's in the works.  This place was built by Fred Harvey, who working hand in hand with the Southern Pacific Railroad built and managed many other resort properties throughout the Southwest.  This was when train travel was king.

  La Posada: Grandeur from a bygone era

Final word on Winslow: If not for the BNSF and the Eagles, I fear Winslow would be only another footnote to US 66 history.  It is still struggling not to join the long list of small western towns who fell as casualties to Interstate 40.

 

At our daily planning meeting tonight, it came out that 15 of our 22 riders had flats today, 2 riders had 4 each, 30 flats in total.  Tom (CA) and I offered roadside aid to 4 riders.  I escaped unscathed.  It must be the coyote blood that I put on my rear forks.



Total Miles:   94              Total Vertical Climb:  3100 ft.