As I explained in yesterday’s post regarding this wander into the Old West, these images and memories did not find their way to being published until August 8th, 2022. Forgive me if they are sparse on details, but we had no notes or itinerary in the archive to spur our thoughts.
While I’ve shared a dozen of the best photos from this day, there were enough details in some of the other images to extract locations. Maintaining our exploration of Route 66, our first stop was here at the Hackberry General Store in Hackberry, Arizona.
The place was still closed as we were simply too early for normal human beings to venture down the road, which is okay with us as then the whole world is ours alone. As we walked around the place, Jutta spotted this sticker from Magdeburg, Germany, which is the city in which she was born back on July 25, 1935. This means my mother-in-law was nearly 74 years old during this visit; gotta admire her stamina.
Now that we got the fact that my mother-in-law, who was older than stones, had that connection to home, we got back to wandering the dusty trail.
Following the theme that the old motels we once entertained staying at close before we get to them, the Frontier Motel in Truxton, Arizona, near Peach Springs, is now long out of business.
Blink, and you might miss Indian Route 18 in the direction of Supai.
No, I did not photograph these whispy clouds just so I could rainbow colorize them in Photoshop at some point in the future; this is just what we saw.
We are approaching the parking lot for the trailhead to Havasu Falls on the Havasupai Reservation.
Our objective is not to take a mid-day 10-mile hike to the falls; nope, we are just out here for the views.
Okay, just a little bit of trail, as in maybe a couple of hundred feet, but that’s it.
And then back the way we came, except now we travel with an appetite.
There’s so much more to visiting Delgadillo’s Snow Cap in Seligman, Arizona than random smiley face potato things in your french fries, but capturing the antics of the staff is a difficult one. Back in 2002, on a camping trip next to the Colorado River, Caroline and I had our first encounter with the owner, Juan Delgadillo, and consider ourselves lucky to have met this charismatic man who passed away two years after that visit.
And that concludes our brief wandering around the Old West.
