Won't you get hip to this timely tip:

Get your kicks on Route 66!



I've been meaning to take one of the "primitive roads" in the area for a while, just to explore the desert a little. I've also been curious about more of Old Route 66, so it was all too perfect when my Grandma Day mailed me an article that she thought I'd like (I love when she does this): The Mystique of Route 66 from Smithsonian Magazine. (That article is really great, and I've been to most of those places in Arizona.) Consider me inspired.

I've driven some of Old Route 66 before, up to Peach Springs and the entire length of it in Illinois. I definitely dig it as a slice of Americana, but I think today's adventure really kind of solidified my affinity for this road.

Today I took a primitive road from Bullhead City to Oatman, and hopped on Old Route 66 (a BLM Backcountry Byway!) for just about 30 miles of hairpin turns and switchbacks through high desert and desert valley. It was a really pretty drive, and I barely saw anyone until the road paralleled the Santa Fe Railroad and wound into Kingman. There's not much out there-- a little general store about halfway along that advertised sodas and souvenirs and had a port-a-potty in the parking lot, an assisted living home (really just a small ranch house), several long lines of mailboxes with no homes in sight, countless "primitive roads", and a lot of desert plants thanks to the recent rain (or snow, depending on the elevation).

I actually came back to town via Old 66 too, but it felt way shorter despite stopping more. There were a few pullouts along the way, including one that had some old steps carved into the side of a stony hill-- I clearly stopped to climb up and check the view (it was lovely). Back in Oatman, the burros were down from the mountains, and I enjoyed seeing them again, especially the little baby guy, who's bulked up a lot! I paid a little more attention to the rest of Oatman now that I've been there a few times. I have a new favorite road--


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You probably can't read that sign, but it says Snob Hill Road. Really. In a tiny, sparsely populated village with mostly rundown trailers, Snob Hill. I laughed.

Now I really want to drive more of Old Route 66, The Mother Road. Obvious short-term solution: from Oatman to the California border (Needles), which would include driving through the Havasu National Wildlife Refuge. I felt pretty darn American, driving down the road, Coca-Cola in hand, listening to Ray Charles sing "America the Beautiful".