The one and only, the iconic, the legend: Mrs. White’s Golden Rule Cafe in Phoenix, Arizona.
There’s no place else in the entire state of Arizona to get soul food like this soul food.
Aguila, Bouse, Lake Havasu, Oatman, Kingman
Last week, we passed through Wickenburg and drove right past the Hassayampa River Preserve, but we can only do that so many times to a place before we finally decide that we have to pay it a visit, and so that’s our first stop today.
It’s a pretty little oasis here at the Hassayampa.
Somewhere between Nothing and Hope, you’ll find Aguila, and unless you are a desert farmer or just someone interested in what stuff and which places are out beyond our purview from the freeways, I have no idea what you’d be doing out here.
Horse tie-ups still in place. I guess that says something about how long this former establishment has been in ruin. Roadside in Salome, Arizona.
Kinda neat little place along the road called the “Old Brayton Ghost Town & Museum.” To visit it, you are put on the honor system, and it is hoped you’ll offer $1 per adult and 50 cents per child to help keep things going. Our loop today is now traveling through Bouse, Arizona.
Parker Dam on the California-Arizona border.
London Bridge, originally built in 1830, is now about 5,459 miles (8.844 km) from where it first spanned the Thames River. Today, it spans a small channel of the Colorado River to an island that came into being as the Parker Dam backed up the Colorado, forming Lake Havasu.
Sadly, we drove right by the Silver Dollar Chuck Wagon restaurant in Topock, Arizona, missing a “broasted chicken” dinner, but we’d just eaten an hour earlier in Lake Havasu. This is old Route 66, which at one time was the main road across the United States for those heading west. Somehow, I can’t imagine being out here in the 1930s in cars without air conditioning and services that were few and far between.
For those who took this road some 70 years ago out of Chicago and before the age of television, how foreign and exotic must this have looked to them?
In 1921, much of Oatman burned down, but the Durlin Hotel survived (not pictured). Besides having a population as large as 3,500 due to a gold find back in 1915, Oatman was put on the map after Carole Lombard and Clark Gable got married nearby in Kingman on March 18, 1939, and passed through on their honeymoon. Clark Gable enjoyed the town so much that he would frequently return to play poker with the local miners.
For that authentic Old West look, there should be donkeys everywhere in Arizona.
We are in Kingman and probably not where Clark Gable and his new bride Carole Lombard had dinner (nor did we), but we definitely like the old sign.
And this was the big payoff of the day, a spectacular sunset with crepuscular rays.
Last remnants of the golden fires of the late-day sky as we drive south back towards Wickenburg and Phoenix.
Would this be the last monsoon of the summer season near Phoenix?
Yarnell to Williams
Today’s road trip started on Highway 60, but this time, we are heading northwest in the direction of Las Vegas. Before we ever get to Sin City, though, we’ll pass through Wickenburg and then turn off to Congress, Arizona.
Not sure Congress can be called a town but if so, it might be more appropriately referred to as a Ghost Town.
Frog Rock is a roadside attraction that might garner more attention than Congress that we just passed through.
Lunch was nearby at the Ranch House Restaurant here in Yarnell.
I have a sweet spot for decrepit old buildings and signs from a bygone era. The motel is no longer open, and one wonders about how long until the sign goes away too.
Update: In late 2023, Grace Harris took a photo of the same sign that is now a lot worse for wear. She told me that at one time, the place was called the Boulders Motel. I asked Google’s Bard about it, and it appears that the postcard on the internet of this sign and location with the different name was from 1958.
From a former bordello more than one hundred years ago to a steakhouse today. Hopefully, someday, we’ll come back for something to eat here in Kirkland, Arizona, at the Kirkland Bar & Steakhouse.
You can bet that if there are a lot of people in the Phoenix area who have never visited the Grand Canyon, there are even more who don’t know we have a township on the back roads to Prescott called Skull Valley.
Keep driving north through Prescott, Chino Valley, Paulden, and Ash Fork up on Interstate 40, turn east, and you’ll reach Williams.
This is also the place you might catch the train to the Grand Canyon, but probably not this exact one.
We were in the area, so why not make time for a stop at Walnut Canyon National Monument?
Even though it’s summer, we live too far south to experience the luxury of sunsets that don’t happen until after 11:00 p.m. It’s only shortly past 7:00, and the sun is fading fast on our way home.
Globe to Ft. Apache
Passing through Superior when we’re traveling east on Highway 60 is always a pleasure as it’s not too far from Phoenix and the landscape changes dramatically while traveling west on the I-10 towards California involves more than one hundred miles of desert.
A quick stop at Boyce Thompson Arboretum satisfies our need for lush vegetation.
Driving north out of Globe, you pass the Apache Drive-in, which is almost startling in appearance as you realize that it’s still open. How much longer can these relics from the past continue?
A yellow bug for a yellow flower.
It’s still monsoon season here in Arizona, and where there’s some elevation, the water isn’t immediately absorbed by the thirsty desert. Not only does the rain replenish the plant life, but it also goes far to refresh our parched senses.
A little off the beaten path is the Ft. Apache Historic Park. From here, we ventured into Pinetop for a short drive through town and something to eat.
Passing through Clay Springs on the loop back to Phoenix.
Payson up on the Mogollon Rim is our last stop before heading down the hill and back to the hot desert we crawled out of.
Stone Roses
We were barely four months into seeing one another when Caroline and I drove to Deinze, Belgium, and the Futurama Festival to see the Stone Roses, though we were interested in Jesus Jones and Urban Dance Squad, too. I was able to talk my way into free passes after meeting with the Stone Roses to ask about filming the show. Sadly, I wasn’t allowed, but they invited us to their show in Cologne, Germany, a few days later. Also playing on this day on October 1, 1989, were Bad Brains, Brian Ritchie, Buffalo Tom, Hard-Ons, Hoodoo Gurus, The Pursuit of Happiness, and Firehose.
Awesome, just after seeing the band on Sunday, here we were on Wednesday, just up the road in Cologne, on the guestlist for this show, too. Next up, I had to find myself a poster that was being used around town to announce the show, and the venue still had a few; with it in hand, I asked the guys if they’d mind signing it for my new girlfriend and they obliged me with the above. Since framing this, I’ve seen it every day; it brings me back to those heady early days of our relationship when the Stone Roses’ first album came out, and I stumbled upon one of those rare LPs on which I loved every single track.
These were our backstage passes for the Belgian show and are now stuck on the glass of the framed poster. The setlist from that night was: I Wanna Be Adored, Elephant Stone, Waterfall, Made of Stone, Standing Here, She Bangs the Drums, Where Angels Play, Shoot You Down, Sally Cinnamon, I Am the Resurrection.
Tucson to Tombstone
Another mega-one-day trip into Arizona. We started by speeding south down Interstate 10, zipping past Picacho Peak State Park before stopping to take at least one roadside photo to prove that we were heading somewhere. Blam, there are saguaros, so you now know we are out in the desert and not by the pool.
Just south of Tucson, we created quite the commotion as we skidded into the gravel parking lot of Mission San Xavier del Bac, said a couple of Hail Marys, and were once again on the move.
Nothing like some nuclear violence and missiles to go with God, and so it was ordained that we should stop at the Titan Missile Museum in Green Valley and look death in the face.
It only gets better when you throw slabs of a dead grilled cow on a plate and dig into the rare warm flesh of a mammal to celebrate that though God, war, and pestilence are all around, we are going out celebrating life while the stars still shine, the sun burns brightly, and God has not smitten me for my nearly blasphemous musing at his expense. Sadly, we did not eat here at the Longhorn Grill in Amado, even though it was our second time through.
Across the desert landscape, we search for more debauchery or water, whatever we find first.
Drats, we found water first here in Patagonia, which I thought was in Chile, but that’s what the sign said.
No road or creek will be missed on this trip that plans to take in all of Arizona today. This is the Buenos Aires National Wildlife Refuge, and I can assure you that no fish were killed in this river crossing, though the frog I hadn’t seen crossing the stream at the same time we were now has a crippled leg.
Ahhh, Bisbee! An old favorite we’ve been to with my parents back in 1995, then again with Jutta just last year, and now here we are again, probably starting to annoy the people of this mining town with our near-constant presence.
Then again, there is nobody here to bother, so why worry?
I’ll tell you why you worry because this crazy town of Bisbee has shark cars, and anywhere a shark car is street legal; it must mean one thing, violators of the rules or unwanted vermin are quickly eaten and pooped out the tailpipe; end of the story.
Next door to the O.K. Corral in Tombstone is the phone booth that Clark Kent used to become Superman. Yep, we are driving north again after having bumped into Mexico by Bisbee, but we’re good now as we slingshot upwards, certain to hit the Grand Canyon before sunset.
Damn, we got caught up at the Bird Cage Theatre watching some old-timey burlesque, though I’m not sure poles were part of the act way back when. After all that hot dancing action, I had to visit the local Tombstone brothel, which turned out to be a bummer because the last bordello closed in 1946, which is so unfair! See if I ever come back.
I didn’t even get to tell you about exploring the rest of Bisbee, walking around Tombstone and checking out Boothill Graveyard, visiting the town of Patagonia, or some of the other stuff we saw at the Titan Missile Museum or in the Wildlife Refuge. And now it’s 7:30 p.m., and we’re only passing through Benson (but had to stop to take a photo of this great neon sign in front of a dramatic sky) and won’t even be back in the Phoenix area before 10:30 p.m. Next time, we’ll have to leave around 4:00 in the morning or not dawdle as much along the way. By the way, this is how we spend a random Wednesday. I wonder what we’ll do for an encore on the weekend?