HIGHWAY 89A – ANOTHER GREAT WEEKEND GETAWAY

by jimhinckleysamerica | Jul 27, 2008 | Uncategorized

When I first began posting on this blog the plans were grandiose. Reality set in rather quickly and as a result the planned daily post became weekly posts. With that in mind …

As you can see from the pictures, this week ended with a drive through some of Arizona’s finest landscapes. This, however, was but the frosting on the cake!

I kicked off the week by finishing the draft for my newest book, Ghost Towns of the Southwest. Now I have several weeks to polish and add a few side bars.

The rest of the week is a bit of a blur. Suffice to say I am holding to my pledge and ride my bicycle to work every day, I rented trucks to folks moving to the far corners of the nation, and the evenings were spent searching for the next book contract.

This weekend was the date scheduled for an informal gathering of my wife’s extensive clan in Prescott but several deaths in rapid succession resulted in cancellation. As my son and I had asked for the day off several months ago we decided not to let it go to waste.

I rented a mini van from the office (employee discount of $20 per day + .10 per mile), filled an ice chest with a wide array of drinks, a box with snacks, another for the multitude of items needed for the grand daughter who will be a year old in a few weeks, and set out for Prescott early Saturday morning.

My wife was eager to attend the family reunion as Orvin, her grandfathers brother, his wife and sister were to be the guest of honor. Sadly, his wife passed away in late June.

Visiting with Orvin was the catalyst for this adventure. This grand old man epitomizes what is sorely lacking in this nation today and has long been an inspiration for me. More on Orvin in a moment.

Even though the day started on a sour note, the need to replace the pump in the evaporate cooler, there was little doubt this was going to be a day of immense blessing. It had rained gently most of the evening, the morning was delightfully cool and the mountains were dappled with cloud shadows.

As is our custom we rolled east along Route 66 enjoying the relative lack of traffic and the timeless scenes along the way. With a need for making time we jumped on I40 in Seligman and at historic Ashfork turned south on highway 89.

I have a long association with this section of highway 89 and am always amazed as well as pleased that the first twenty miles or so are unchanged from thirty years ago. Back in 1982, I worked in the small ghost town of Drake and often walked into Paulden to mail letters to my girl, now my wife of 25 years.

There was an episode that involved a jug of home made cactus wine, my albino dog, Critter, a steer that didn’t want to be ridden and a 1946 GMC that is remembered every time I see the scar on my wrist. A happier and less embarrassing memory is of a picnic near the historic Hell’s Canyon bridge. An even better one is of a weekend shortly after we were married and a trip to Jerome via Perkinsville.

From Paulden to Prescott nothing is the same. In fact little is the same from when I rolled through here a couple of years ago.

Paulden is now far more than a general store/gas station/bar and a post office. In Chino Valley where corn fields once grew there are condos and strip malls. Antelope were a common site where subdivisions spread to either horizon and the town is now lapping at the outskirts of Prescott.

My wife and I have always had an affection for Prescott never dampened by changing times or the problems of life. This trip did nothing to change that.

Unlike so many towns across the country Prescott never has faced the challenge of finding a way to breath life into a dead or dying downtown historic district. Downtown Prescott is vital and full of life, and not just on weekends such as the 4th of July when the oldest rodeo comes to town.

This weekend was a real hoot. Montezuma Street was closed along Whiskey Row for a gathering of Arizona gunfighters, those folks young and old who recreate the wild west as it was and as movies have colored it.

Women and kids in period costume weaved in and out of the traffic. The noise of bikers who haunt whiskey row was lost in the din of gunfire and banjo music, singing and laughing. Mixed among the throngs of gawkers and tourist were real cowboys from local ranches that are also a fixture along Whiskey Row.

My daughter in law was enamored by her first visit to Prescott. My granddaughter laughed and cooed as I have never heard her before.

Crowds and spectacles are as much a part of downtown Prescott as are the historic buildings. Likewise with good food.

On this trip we tried the Lone Spur and found it to be excellent. The atmosphere as well as quality and quantity of the food outweighed the price that was a bit more than I was used to in Kingman.

The visit with Orvin was a pleasant and enjoyable one. As we talked I found myself wondering where we as a nation went wrong and what it will take to restore it.

I will let you fill in the blanks as to age but will say Orvin and his wife celebrated sixty two years together this year. By the way his sister is now 101 and lived on her own until this past year.

Orvin summed up life with the lamenting of his wife’s passing, a big sigh, and then reflecting on a lifetime of challenges, all met with a stiff upper lip and little whining, that got him to this point.

Growing up in home with five brothers and five sisters, a touch of polio as a kid, seeing Europe in the infantry during World War II, ranching, race horses, construction, turning wrenches and trading with Indians for items he could sell at a profit are just a few of the adventures and obstacles that make this man one of my heroes.

When I first met Orvin he had a small ranch along the Verde River. Development crowded him out. Now he lives in a tract home in the hills where he once ran cattle as well hunted deer and antelope. Still he smiles and carries the secret to enjoying life – change happens, deal with it.

After leaving Orvin’s we set out on one of my favorite drives – highway Alt. 89. The drive began with battling the traffic and urban sprawl of Prescott Valley that is transforming a beautiful valley in to a world of generic sameness.

At the foot of Mingus Mountain the sprawl was soon forgotten though the traffic remained. This road is little changed from the 1930s. Twists, turns, steep grades are the challenge and the reward is stunning views. The highway photo above was taken while standing on the shoulder of the highway, this series of curves and twists continues to the valley below.

Halfway down the other side is the amazing ghost city of Jerome with with its million dollar views of the red rock country of the Verde Valley. I always laugh when hearing people complain about the throngs of tourist that clog the narrow highway and streets, after all as late as the 1950s this was a main highway and the town was home to more than 20,000 people, not the few hundred who call it home today.

From Jerome it is but a few miles until the urban sprawl of Clarkdale demand full attention. To add the to fun there was extensive construction and numerous detours.

Next are a few miles of open road dominated by looming spires of red rock that gives way to the congestion of Sedona that almost, but not quite, drowns out the stunning setting that surrounds it. Road construction put a small damper on the party with delays of about thirty minutes.

Rejoice in all things is the creed I try to focus on. Though we were held up in traffic it was an amazing seventy five degrees instead of the usual one hundred plus. Additionally the south bound traffic was tied up for an hour at a time!

Oak Creek Canyon is one of those places that has to be experienced as mere words due little justice. Interspersed among some of the most beautiful scenery in Arizona are vintage cabins, stores, inss, and modern resorts. In between are herds of folks enjoying the desert oasis.

The traffic nightmare that is Flagstaff is a rude intrusion into the calm induced by Oak Creek Canyon. We tempered it with a visit to Bookman’s, an amazing literary cornucopia.

Williams and the Pine Country Inn was the last stop of the day. However, it was not our last surprise.

Halfway through a dinner of good food, conversation, and the granddaughter transforming crackers into a well chewed paste the restaurant was overrun by a military band in full uniform, the uniform of the Grand Army of the Republic. As we learned this intrepid band is the youngest group of Civil War reenactors in the nation and they perform as well as sell cd’s to raise money for school related needs.

The period music was delightful and seemed to please everyone from the locals to the European chattering with excitement. Crowning the day with perfection was a wondrous Arizona sunset as we took turns pushing the cooing grand daughter in her stroller through throngs of tourist and horse drawn carriages on the way back to the van.

This is why we work. This is the reward for the challenges and trials of life. This is why I know we are truly blessed.

Now plans begin for the 2nd honeymoon/25th anniversary adventure to Bisbee in October.

CAR OF THE WEEK

by jimhinckleysamerica | Jul 27, 2008 | Uncategorized

*CLICK TO ENLARGE

Wayne Kyle may just be one of the most fortunate men on the plant. First read these stories about his amazing Oldsmobile. Now consider his retirement job – caring for, repairing, and occasionally driving a stable of vintage automobiles. Even better he gets to share the amazing collection that includes a rare Roosevelt with his family.

This 1951 Olds is our car of the week!

THE FORGOTTEN CONTRIBUTIONS OF A MAN NAMED DYKE

by jimhinckleysamerica | Jul 21, 2008 | Uncategorized

The word visionary is the best one we have to describe men like Andrew Lee Dyke. Still, it is rather inadequate when describing an individual that birthed the concept of a mail order auto parts business when the entire automotive industry in the United States consisted of less than a dozen small factories and total annual production was counted in the hundreds.

ROUTE 66, LOST HIGHWAYS & A HALF CENTURY OF MEMORIES

by jimhinckleysamerica | Jul 17, 2008 | Uncategorized

Conversations with old friends who remember Kingman as it was are becoming harder to come by with each passing day. In part this is the price paid for having survived this long. Still, the hope is that this is but the half way point.
Every time I am awarded the luxury of one of these nostalgic trips back to the glory days of our youth there is a renewed awareness of things no longer seen on the drive here and there.
I suppose that is why when traveling I seek the back roads such as Route 66. When driving these roads and talking to the folks who remember when it sharpens my focus. Its like getting a new pair of glasses and seeing things with clarity. I suppose that is one reason the popularity of Route 66 increases with each passing year.
One of these recent conversations sparked a journey down memory lane that I felt needed sharing – to stir up memories of those who remember Kingman when Route 66 was the main drag, to introduce newcomers to some of the things that make Kingman unique, to encourage others to take a second look at their home towns and to provide a fresh perspective of Route 66.
Driving from east to west in Kingman on Route 66, Andy Devine Avenue, is an opportunity to see the old highway in chronological order. First is the modern, generic world of the interstate off ramp. Next is the motels of the 1960s, then the ’50s, ’40s’ and even a few from the thirties.
Downtown is window into the world when the western frontier was grudgingly giving way to the modern era. On the corner of Fourth Street the remains of an adobe eyesore on the corner is being erased from the landscape. In the 1920’s it was the scene of a Wild West shootout with a modern twist.
The long and short of the story is that a Chinese tong from the San Francisco area had a score to settle with the proprietor of this establishment. The hired guns came into town, made their hit, and took to the dusty trail that led to California. A posse of sorts was soon in hot pursuit.
As this was the modern era the running gun battle was not fought from the backs of galloping horses but roaring automobiles, including a new Chrysler touring car. In a hail of bullets, the pursuit ended near the Colorado River and the murders were brought to justice.
In recent years, Mr. D’z Route 66 Diner has become an icon for Route 66 roadies. However, few who stop are aware that this place is more than a mere generic rendition of what once was. Long before the interstate highway cast the “Mother Road” into the realm of historic footnote this was a Shell station and the Kimo (Ki for Kingman and Mo for Mohave) Café.
Next door to Mr. D’z is Dunton Motors. Today the showroom houses a few special interest vehicles, all terrain vehicles, and a few other odds and ends. In its previous life, it was a Chevrolet dealership but before that, a large encircled “E” next to the garage door proudly proclaimed to all who passed by on Route 66 that Kingman was such a modern community it even had an Edsel dealership.
My memories of Kingman are a little bit more modern. When I moved to Kingman, Ford had had five years to work on living down the Edsel debacle but the Kimo with first-rate cheeseburgers was always busy as Route 66 was but several steps from the front door.
However, my preference was A & W, about three blocks from Route 66 near the site of the Calico Restaurant today. I can still feel the frosted mug in my hand as the cool breeze on a warm summer evening danced through the ivy covered lattice that surrounded the patio.
For reasons never understood and seldom questioned, I have always enjoyed good food in old-fashioned mom and pop joints. One of my dreams has been to be paid for driving the back roads in a vintage car sampling food in such places.
Even though we have a number of good restaurants in Kingman today, there are times I really get to missing what we once had. Lockwood’s, now a Catholic mission, was the place for chicken, for Mexican Food it was to tough beat the El Mohave, now the refurbished Hotel Brunswick restaurant, and then there was the City Café, known today as the Hot Rod Café, with a little juke box on each table.
During my John Wayne period, I would come in to town from the ranch about once a month with a mission to find good food. More often than not, my first stop would be the old Hobb’s truck stop on Route 66, currently the Martin Swanty rental car and Penske truck leasing offices.
We even had our version of Walmart – Central Commercial on the corner of Fourth Street and Beale St. Fruits and nuts, sofas and Levi’s, auto parts and brassieres, it was all there. However, unlike Walmart, this place had class; an ornate brass vacuum tube system transported transactions between the main floor and upstairs offices with its dark wood paneling and massive walk in safe. A black and white mosaic tile spelling Central Commercial was at the Fourth Street entrance. Glass bricks in the sidewalk helped light the basement.
After years of decline, attempts to recreate what was with feeble efforts of transforming the building into antique shops and such the old Central Commercial building is undergoing a true renovation. It is with eager anticipation I await its reincarnation.
Though much of what was is gone forever, there are a surprising number of survivors. The turn of the century red brick schoolhouse that served as library when I was a kid is now a part of the court system. The city and planning office was our mission styled post office. The Goodwill Store was the first challenger for the dominance of Central Commercial – Safeway. Across from the bus station, now Pawn World, was a great little ice cream parlor – the Peppermint Shop.
Though the shops that gave Kingman its individuality are sorely missed, it is the smells, the sounds that are missed most. The Western Auto, next to The Standard, was always cool and dim with a well-worn wood floor. A hint of cigar always seemed to hang in the air at the magazine rack in Desert Drug.
Route 66 is no longer the main drag in town though that illusion is fostered with events such as the annual Route 66 Fun Run. The ice plant and Coca Cola bottling works is now a parking lot. The Studebaker dealership has been replaced with a modern body shop. You can no longer picnic under the trees at the site of old Fort Beale without a permit.
I have learned valuable lessons in my stroll down memory lane. The first was Kingman has changed as has the world and there is no going back.
The second lesson was we can not let our fear of the future or even the present fool us into believing the past was a better place. Nor can we allow ourselves to be seduced into believing that we are wiser or better off than those who have gone before because of our stuff, our technological prowess.
The final lesson learned was the key to looking toward the future with expectation, excitement and eager anticipation is to view the past as it really was, allow time to forget the reality of the past as well as the present to visit the past as we would have liked it to have been at events such as the Route 66 Fun Run and then embrace those technological wonders which help make this possible.

DODGE CHALLENGER FOR A NEW GENERATION – CAR OF THE WEEK

by jimhinckleysamerica | Jul 12, 2008 | Uncategorized

With styling like this, power that thumbs its nose in defiance of rising gasoline prices, and a production run of a mere 6400 units this is truly a modern as well as future classic. Additionally, the 2008 Dodge Challenger provides a direct link to those pulse pounding days when cars with names such as Challenger, GTO, and Javelin were most every boys dream.

Chrysler design deserves an “A” for elevating the concept of retro styling to that of art. It also quickens the heart to know that the American automobile industry is alive and well.

With that said this car is a marked departure from the 1970 Challenger that inspired it. The new Challenger has doors that close with a solid feel, has seats that are comfortable though firm, and more amenities than my home.

I have always liked the styling of the Mopar “muscle cars built between 1966 and 1971. When we married my wife was driving a 1970 Charger and her mother drove a 1973 Charger SE, a 53,000 original mile car that is now in the hands of my brother in law.

I worked on used car lots in the mid 1970s and remember with clarity the issues with doors, loose windows and other components that plagued these cars when they were but a few years old. That is why the prices they now command astounds me but not the reason I never chased after them.

Simply put I am a pick up truck man. Over the years I have had a few muscle cars such as a 1965 Pontiac 2+2 but my heart was always with trucks – solid, rugged, dependable trucks.

This review of the new Challenger is not complete. I haven’t had the opportunity to “test drive” it. Stay tuned, even though I probably have a better chance to write a review on driving the legendary Duesenberg than this modern American classic form Chrysler.

This car was photographed at Martin Swanty Chrysler in Kingman, Arizona on Route 66.