All the golden lands indeed.

Is there such a thing as out of the frying pan and into the terrific rest of the time?  Too early to tell, but let’s say… yes.

The initial run out of California was definitely the frying pan part.  I don’t think anywhere was less than 100 degrees, and after Needles and on into Kingman, AZ it was an easy 120.  (Nope, not a typo)

I know Arizona is HOT in the summer, and it certainly sucks that our unavoidable scheduling delays prevented us from heading across Arizona before late June, but still…  It’s my personal heat record, and one I hope not to break; it really put some stress on the A/C and cooling systems of our Dodge.  Some of those long, steep grades were rough.  120 degrees out; A/C off to try to avoid overheating, and still the engine and transmission temps are creeping up to uncomfortable levels.   Thankfully, (or, maybe hopefully) not everywhere will be this hot, and we didn’t wind up in any fires.

Despite the brutal heat, we spent a little time in Kingman to see some Route 66 sights, checking out the sizable Route 66 Museum there, and taking the 30ish mile side trip to Oatman.  Both were fun, and worth doing, and there’s more to see and do here that we would have liked to spend some time on – in cooler temps.

One surprising find was that – despite a lifetime of thinking I didn’t like root beer – on a whim I decided to try the homemade caramel root beer at Mr D’s Route 66 Diner and it was fracking delicious.  Apparently, I’d just never tried any good root beer.  The thoughtful, knowledge seeking part of my brain thinks I should start looking at other stuff I think I don’t like.  The picky, knee-jerk part thinks the other part should shut the hell up.

Oatman was an interesting, semi-authentic western-ish style town, but not a lot different than many others found in so many places.  Lot’s of places to be very spendy with tourist dollars.  Leather, Indian jewelry, local arts and crafts galleries, western wear, Route 66 memorabilia and souvenirs, gift shops, saloons, candy shops and eateries and, as always, mock gun-fights.

This one did have freely wandering donkeys begging to be fed.  I even had one guy stick his head in my truck window, pretty insistently suggesting I give up the good stuff.  Sadly, I was unprepared, with no good stuff on hand.  He had to make do with pats and rubs, which frankly, I feel he was a little perfunctory about appreciating.

Next stop will be in the much cooler and elevated Williams/Flagstaff area.  Yes, please and thank you.