Our first step out of box was Williams, AZ. It is the home of a railroad that takes people up to the Grand Canyon. It seems very much like a homey place with local color and lots of people from other places. Carol found a quilt shop to inspect. I found some Mexican Americans that I could show off my Puerto Vallarta jacket to. Ate in a cool restaurant. It appears that there are a bunch of folks who have left their former lives behind and have moved to some small towns in the west. These people are mostly women who go through divorce and are seeking to remake themselves. We actually met a woman who changed her first and last name legally to one that she liked. Amazing stuff.

There really isn’t very much between Flagstaff and Las Vegas. There is of course, Seligman, AZ, the historic home of Rte. 66. No one seems to know why it is called by that name, but they do pronounce it with the accent on the lig. It is a daffy little place with lots of 1950’s cars and stuff to sell. It is only tourists that wander of route 40 about 2 miles to stop at this place. For most of us easterners, rte. 66 is a song, not really a place. It was the first cross continental road from Chi-town to L.A. It was deposed by route 40 years later.

We took a few pictures bought some postcards and wondered by they were playing contemporary rock and roll rather than songs of the 20’s, 30’s, 40’s, or 50’s. The person behind the counter told me that kind of music is boring. I guess I am just and oldster trying to make sense of things. I even took a picture of Elvis playing his guitar.

About 30 or so miles after Seligman comes Kingman, AZ population 28,000 and an elevation of 3,333 feet. We just arrived here as I am writing this. We are on a main drag that looks like route 1 in the 1950’s. There did not seem to be any real diners of sit down restaurants, so we looked around for our boutique restaurant, Wendy’s. It took us about an hour to find it using Carol’s GPS system.

I know this is an open carry state. I know that this is the West. I know it is the Labor Day Weekend… However, what I do not know is why an old guy wearing a western kind of costume, with boots, jeans, and a sidearm was with a woman wearing block blue high heels, hardly a blue skirt, a frilly blouse and a 70 year old face that could stop a bullet in its tracks. I may find out tomorrow why this is.

We will probably take a drive to Lake Havasu that we were there in 1965. Wish that we could see theYavapi Native Americans and talk with them about conditions in this area. I guess we can never get out of our curiosity about how people are doing.






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