Still on the Lookout

One more glance down the main drag and remarking that the Pixar people are truly imaginative geniuses - we peel out and head down the highway 80 plus miles to the thriving metropolis of Kingman. The scenery does become more desert like with scrub brush, yucca trees, and sand. The highway signs ask us to watch out for deer- big deer with large antler racks and so I do. No deer but we see several non-rabbit, too big for rat, non tailed squirrel like rodents. They must be some beefy cousin of prairie dogs and skilled survivors as we do not see any Roadkill with their outlines. (Either that or they are headliners at the Roadkill Cafe.)

We cruise into Kingman about 3 and remark that this would be a long hot drive in the 40's and 50's. The thermometer tells us it is 103.

Now for the road less travelled. The road from Kingman to California was the most difficult. Almost immediately, the road becomes more scenic with a variety of geo,ogic features, erosion patterns revealing dozens of patterns and colors.




The ability to sightsee and drive becomes difficult for Bob as the two lane twisting and winding road demands his undivided attention. I keep up a running on the drop off cliffs right out my passenger window and how beautiful the scenery is. All I can think is what brave souls they were... Dustbowl travelers determined to get to California and work. My uncle CJ and his family were among those who made the journey with all their family and whatever they owned - starting over. When I see him next week, I will have to see hat he remembers...

Tons of curves, dozens of switchbacks, few other travelers on the road-, but after a couple of hours we arrive in Oatman, a mining town which flourished from 1901 to 1936 when gold was discovered and processed. The town now has a dozen shops with names that are playonwords homage to the now wild burros that roam the area. They are descendants of the miners donkeys who were just turned loose when the veins trickled down and profitability waned. Bob was a little sad that we had missed one of the daily shoot outs they stage every afternoon to draw in tourists. He had to make do with seeing people feeding and getting nipped by donkeys - they are wild animals the signs reminded us - and speculating on how much gold money could be had from working the tailings now that gold is $1800 an ounce.

Down the other side and we arrived at the Colorado River - 600 feet in altitude. More than a 6500 foot drop from the morning. It's true - we have been going down hill all day...