Update: The drive to Kingman was a long one, but much of it was
easier than other stretches due to the temperature being reasonable. Shortly after Flagstaff, we were in the
Kaibab Forest. Just as with the Coconino
and the pine trees in and around Flagstaff, I felt gladdened to be in a pine forest
again. I hadn’t realized until I saw it how
much I missed it.
There were signs for elk crossing, but I didn’t see any
actual elk. Saw hawks though, brown
winged and soaring across the road.
Gradually the trees gave way to lower, bushier types as the elevation
dropped. There were a few examples of
dramatic striping in the mountain that had been cut away for the road. I had to look again to make sure it wasn’t
painted there in a deliberate attempt at highway beautification. I wish I had a geologist onboard to tell me
what the pale, peach stripe running between masses of reddish rock meant. Some period of the earth’s history when
storms raged over the area raining peach yogurt?
At one point there was a scary sign warning of a six percent
grade and advising big trucks and vehicles towing trailers to pull over to the
safety area and test their brakes. I
gulped, because I don’t have trailer brakes right now (there is an earlier post
that needs an update to explain about this).
But it turned out alright, because there are actually some advantages to
having a vehicle with limited and low gearing.
Goose has no overdrive, and like all her kind she is geared pretty
low. This makes for crappy gas mileage,
but it comes in handy on downhill grades.
All I have to do is lift my foot from the gas, and she sets her wings
and settles into a comfortable glide, never getting above fifty-five. I never had to ride the brake at all, just
coast happily down.
Down meant hotter, though, and the welcome cool that comes
with elevation gave way to warmer temperatures.
Luckily, Arizona has been cooler than New Mexico, mostly due to
elevation I think. In Winslow I actually
needed to throw a wool blanket over myself in the trailer, it was that
cool. But I was glad about that, believe
me! Now the heat was bearable, but still
tiring when I turned off the A/C on the sharp uphill climbs. And there were still a good number of those.
Finally pulled into Kingman shortly before six. I had planned on stopping at a travel center
that had looked good from satellite view, but when I navigated to the address I
had for it, there was nothing there.
Either it vanished out of the space time continuum, or I got the address
wrong. I drove through a section of
Kingman’s “historic shopping district,” as they billed it on very inviting
signage, but there didn’t appear to be much there. I’m sure shopping delights would have been
revealed on closer inspection, but everything was closed for the evening. A plot of ground with green grass had a
locomotive enshrined on it, but there was nowhere obvious for me to park, so I
drove on.
Finally routed back to a Flying J I’d passed earlier. I probably ruled it out initially because it
didn’t look as big and generous with pull through parking. But I must be getting bolder, because
although there was a dreadful line for the pumps with RV’s and trailers and
cars all jumbled higgledy-piggeldy, I threaded my way through with inches to
spare and got my gas. Squeezing through
narrow toll gates and negotiating bobsled runs on stretches of two thousand
miles of America’s highways will teach you how much clearance you really need,
I guess. When I went to pull out of that
crowd, a lady in a little red car was coming in the opposite direction. One of us was going to have to back up, and
it wasn’t going to be me. In this case
it wasn’t a matter of skill. I was half
turned with people coming up behind me and the only possible solution was for
her to back up. She didn’t look happy
about it, but I just smiled and waited patiently. When it was obvious I was prepared to go back
in the trailer and fix myself a drink while she figured out how things stood,
she angrily reversed out of the way.
I found parking, cleverly setting myself up so that NOBODY
COULD BLOCK ME IN, and went and had a meal at the Denny’s, my first regular
meal in some time. My appetite had come
back somewhat. Had a conversation with
my brother, who called when he read my complaints of feeling terrible, and he
said my flu-like symptoms sounded altitude related. Loss of appetite is one of the things that
happens with that. I had taken a couple of aspirin, choked down
some food and drunk a bunch of Gatorade, and felt some better. At Kingman I am below 4000 feet and feeling
much better. I am very tired, but I
don’t feel sick now.
My plan had been to rest in Kingman for a day, sleeping
during the warm hours and getting up in the evening to tackle the Mojave
Desert. At this time of year the Mojave
is brutally hot. The old fashioned way
of dealing with it with regards to auto travel was to cross it at night. That’s my plan. I just wasn’t able to time my arrival so that
I could have most of a day of rest, so I’ll have to make do with a couple
hours.
I’m currently in a Kingman Walmart parking lot, which does
not allow overnight parking and makes it clear this is a city ordnance. There is a big Class A rig and a medium
sized, older travel trailer pulled by a pickup near me. I don’t know what they are planning on doing,
but I want to get a couple hours of nap
before heading out toward Barstow. I’m
hoping the powers that be will think we are traveling in a group.
Finally, there’s no data coverage from Verizon here. I find it hard to believe that tiny little
out of the way Podunk towns were giving me four bars, and in busy, fairly big
Kingman, nexus of travel, I’ve got nothing.
Kingman is flirting with stump territory here. But perhaps they’ll get a second chance if
they allow me a bit of rest before the road.
Typing this by led lantern light, with crickets singing outside. Delightfully cool now. I’ll post when I can.
Postscript: This Walmart closes at midnight, so when I got up from my nap (which wasn't nearly long enough, by the way), there was no coffee to be had. I could have made some or tried to find some elsewhere, but didn't want to take the time. Everything looked like it was closed up for the night.
Got a little nervous when I saw this in the distance:
But the closer I got, the more I realized that something was a little different about this cop car.
It was a relic from another age. Somebody's daily driver apparently. The rather sketchy looking crowd at the Walmart entrance who were hanging out and told me the store closed at midnight had someone in their number who came and drove this away. Pretty cool ride, I guess.
Kingman is flirting with the Stump Award here. No data, no overnight parking, no 24-hour Walmart. . . .it was time to saddle up and ride.
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