The next day
(11-14) was a short travel day – only about 40 miles from Williams to Seligman,
Arizona. There is no place to stay between Seligman and Kingman, so I get one short day
and one long day (about 70 miles tomorrow) out of it.
For the last 15 miles coming
into Seligman, I got off I-40 and rode on a stretch of US Route 66, called
America’s Mother Road, and arguably the most famous highway in the world. Route
66 was first opened in 1926 and rapidly became America’s grand thoroughfare between
Chicago and Los Angeles. It is particularly famous for its role in the immigration west
during the "dust bowl" depression days of the 1930s when tens of thousands of
Midwest farmers packed up and headed to the promised land of California. In the 1950s, it
served again as the major route to the Southwest and California, this time for vacationing
families visiting the National Parks and other great scenic attractions. Its demise came
with the advent of the Interstate Highway System during the Eisenhower Administration.
Interstate Highways 55, 44, 40 and 10 were planned and built to follow closely the route
of old US 66. In 1984, Williams, Arizona became the last "Route 66" town in
America to be bypassed by the Interstate Highway System. But the story doesn’t end
there with the new highway skirting a half-mile to the north of Williams. Instead a group
of activists, led by the Seligman town barber, Angel Delgadillo, founded the Historic
Route 66 Association and gained federal "Historic Route" status for the
remaining sections of the road. The longest surviving section of Route 66 begins just west
of Ash Fork, AZ, passes through Seligman (the section I rode today) and goes on through
Kingman to Topock, AZ, a distance of over 160 miles.
Riding on the 15 mile stretch
of Route 66 was really interesting for me today. I came up one steep grade and paused just
past the crest for a candy bar and a drink of juice. There was no other real traffic, but
I could clearly see a tired old Ford pick-up truck, loaded with all the possessions and
members of a 1930s Oklahoma farm family, pull off behind me to let the engine cool down
before proceeding to the next town. Occasionally, I could really see traffic on I-40 about
two miles to the south of me. There were trucks and campers and cars all whizzing along at
75 mph, with drivers who had too many important things to do to take a few minutes to
enjoy a small stretch of historic highway. Slow down America (it’s Sunday, and
I’m allowed to preach), and enjoy the scenic and historic wealth of your country.
(Great
Adventures to Scenic Places)
