PHX to Holbrook

It's 6.02am and I've been up for about an hour. Bloody jet lag. At least I have hot coffee and CMT on the telly to keep me occupied. I also had a Skype with the wife, which was lovely. 

I arrived here in Apache Junction after a perfectly uneventful journey from Denmark. We flew on a 747 from London, something I've not done for years so was quite excited about that. They're such lovely lumbering beasts. This was a pretty old bird, mind you. She'd seen a lot. In fact, my window was so loose that I could literally pull the plastic mould off together with the inner windowpane. This left all of what looked like just under 1cm of plastic (?) between me and out there. I wasn't so worried on the ground but by the time we reached 38,000 feet, I was a little anxious. I even had a plan just in case the window popped out. It involved my MacBook Air, but I'm pretty sure I'd end up with the same fate as that alien in Alien Resurrection. Anywho, the window didn't pop out so I could save the day or be sucked out through the window, and instead we landed just ahead of a dust storm. The car rental place is about 500 miles from the airport, so by the time I reached there, the dust storm was well and truly upon us. I sat for a while in the car to let the worse pass, then set out to find the motel. As I wound my way towards Apache Junction, lightning lit up the sky and rain pattered down. It was beautiful.

I slept rather badly, waking at 1am, 3am, 4am, and then about 5am. At least I'll sleep well tonight. I hope, anyway. I should get up. I think breakfast is starting soon and I haven't eaten since my afternoon scone on the flight over (a proper scone, complete with Rhodes clotted cream and strawberry jam! I was extremely pleased). Today, I'm winding my way round the Apache Trail, an old stagecoach trail that makes its way through the Superstition Mountains and was originally used by the Apache Indians. Of course, then it wasn't a stagecoach trail, it was just a trail. Anyway, it should be very beautiful, and also passes by Roosevelt Lake. From there, I'll head to Globe, Show Low, and finally Holbrook. It should be a good day.

Well I made it. I’m now on the bed in a lovely room at Globetrotter Lodge in Holbrook. There is some kind of tacky and terrible sci-fi film on, which is perfectly suitable really. I won’t watch it all though as, a) I’m writing this, and b) I’m going to go eat soon.

I set off shortly after the earlier writing, and headed straight for The Lost Dutchman's Gold Mine. I’d read that although it’s a tourist trap you can go before it opens and nose around for free. I did that. I had it to myself and it was cosy, but only worth a short stop. Besides, the Apache Trail was waiting!

Theodore Roosevelt says this about the trail:

And I’d have to agree. I suspect it was even grander before 4x4, but what can you do. Most of it was unpaved, and I do like a bit of unpaved road, and most of it I had to myself. It’s the kind of road that makes people wave at each other when you do pass someone.

That’s my favourite kind of road. Smiles and waves and a basic acknowledgement that, you know, this is pretty cool. I drove through miles and miles of rocky hills covered with saguaro, rugged and red, and beautiful. I stop off at Tortilla Flat, for no other reason other than to stop. This used to serve as a watering hole, way back when, and it still does. It has a population of 6. I’m not hungry but head into the restaurant anyway. I can probably eat some pie if I must. They don’t have pie but they do have the biggest cinnamon bun I’ve ever seen, and bottomless coffee. I have to tell the woman to stop filling up my cup or I’ll never leave. The walls are covered with one dollar notes. Too bad I’ve no cash. I eat, am disgusted with myself, and leave.

Red rocks turn into green hills, tarmac turns to dirt, and green hills turn back into red rock. The road winds down a mountain, just clinging to the edge. I look over once and then decide not to do it again. Just not worth it. I hit the bottom and push through to Apache Lake, welcome blue after so much red. 

Good!One of the many single lane bridges

It's dusty

I was a bit sad when I hit tarmac again, but Roosevelt Dam appears around the corner.

It’s a very nice dam too. Built from 1903 to 1911, it was made to do what dams are made to do: control water. I think it does it quite well, I’m not too sure. Lots of good and bad things to be said about dams really. Nice bridge too.

Interesting fact: the road is actually raised a bit towards the centre. If it was completely flat, from a distance it'd give drivers the impression that it was sagging

My next stop was Globe for lunch and a nose about. On the way I noticed a cave dwelling sign and I swerved to take a look. Ancient dwellings and the history of Arizona is fascinating. I didn’t think I’d really find it all that, but after visiting last year – especially Casa Grande – my mind was changed. I’m not entirely sure why, but it’s something I love. Show me a cave dwelling sign and I’m yours.

It was a short hike through lots of cacti up to the caves, where a ranger stood ready to answer all my questions. We mostly talked about littering and those pesky kids of today.

This is what a saguaro looks like when it dies. Did you know that? I didn’t know thatThe lovely named teddy-bear cholla

The buildings, or what’s left of them, are lovely. Vandalism and souvenir hunters from the early 1900s had made their mark, and what we’re left with today is significantly less than what was first photographed in 1903. Bloody people.

The view. Location location location

Even though they’re from the 14th century, you can still see fingerprints on the clay, the walls are still covered with soot, and some floors still remain. They are incredibly durable. All officially protected now so that’s good. I asked ranger about good eats in Globe, and he tells me about Guayos, a Mexican place he likes. Fine by me.

Odd how somewhere that looks so dodgy can be so good. One taco, one enchilada, rice and beans, and one root beer later, and I was back on the road.

I found the centre of Globe not long afterwards looking sad and quiet. Seeing as it was a Sunday everything was closed except for an antiques store that was about the size of the Albert Hall. I bought an ice-cream scooper-thing.

I wanted to visit the recently restored train station from 1916, but it was bloody closed. I looked through the windows and it looked good as well. Darn it. 

Back in the car, I check how long it’d take to get to my final destination for the day and am surprised to find it’ll take almost 3 hours. I’d forgotten how big this place is. That means I can't do the slightly more scenic route I had hoped to, but the route I take is beautiful too. Up over and through Salt River Canyon, through forests of pine trees, and across flat, empty plains on straight, straight roads. God, I love this state.

I pull into Holbrook at around 5.30. Once checked in, I take a stroll and visit the Wigwam Motel. I almost stayed here, but I didn’t. I can’t remember why now, but I did um and er for a long time… Anyway. The cars… Oh the cars! Look at the cars!

You want to buy me and restore me

There’s one parked outside almost every wigwam. Some are literally held together by string. Sad.

Holbrook is real Route 66 USA. I’m not sure what it is about it, but I have the feeling it hasn’t changed that much. All wide roads and motels. I’ll have to see if there’s lots of neon when I go out later. It’s oddly beautiful. In a derelict kind of way. It’s very similar to Globe in that for every three open shops, there’s one shut shop. It’s classic drive-thru small town America. Spacious, low, retro and quiet.

I’m hungry now. I’ve had an excellent first day. I can’t wait to head out tomorrow and explore a bit more, but I also can’t wait to eat, get back here, get into bed, and watch some terrible TV.