The title says it best. That’s what I HAD to do in Winslow. That morning I peeked out of the second floor window and spotted the Goose down below with, the ever present, frost on it. Glad that my trusty travel companion was still there, I began packing for the busy day that was ahead of me. Three stops were on the schedule. Downtown Winslow to seek out “The Corner”, Flagstaff for some pizza, and the Page/Lake Powell area of northern Arizona. All in all it would add up to about 190 miles on the bike and almost non-stop riding. That was fine with me. I’m getting very used to the fact that if you want to get anywhere in the southwest you’ll have to dedicate a serious chunk of time. If I started the trip with such large gaps between destinations I may have ended it already. The compact, east coast, broke me in nicely.
From Winslows Motel 6 to the, standing on the corner park, it’s about a two mile ride. It’s super easy to find and is located right on the intersection of Route 66 (2nd st.) and Kinsley. The park itself is fairly small and is all decked out with a Route 66 theme. The sculpture that marks “The Corner” is of a young man with jeans and a leather jacket on, holding a guitar. A few other tourists were there and we exchanged cameras in order to get everyone in each others pictures. After the initial excitement of being there wore off I hunted down a sticker for the Goose and kept an eye out for that hot chick in a flat bed Ford. I guess she had errands to run or something. The park doesn’t leave one hanging to bad though. The town has supplied a cherry red flat bed Ford for the corner. I stood around a while and noticed how all of the other tourists just seemed to take a pic with the sculpture and not really even notice the flat bed sitting right there. This is just a small piece of advice for the quiet little town of Winslow. If you guys would pay a really hot chick to sit in that flat bed Ford at the park, tourism would be boosted, the truck would get noticed more and I’m sure the business she would bring from being in the truck would supplement her wage. Personally I would have loved to take a pic of a chick in that truck looking at me, even more than a picture of me with the sculpture. Just saying. Eventually I came to the end of all that could be done at The Corner and I had to leave. A feeling washed over me as I was leaving Winslow. The feeling was that I’ll never see this place again. Standing on the corner once IS enough. It’s not cool to stand on it twice. The song doesn’t say “Standing on the corner of Winslow Arizona again” and there is nothing else going on there, so that was it and I was off to Flagstaff.
Mt. Humphreys, towers over Flagstaff and is clearly visible from Winslow 57 miles away. It would be impossible to get lost traveling to Flagstaff on foot or in a vehicle from anywhere in the region since that mountain is so dominate in the sky around there. Flagstaff is a beautiful little rustic town and deserves a longer visit in the future, but I was there just to eat at Alpine Pizza. Alpine Pizza has been featured on the Travel Channels best pizza joints. It’s a super hip little pizza shop in downtown Flagstaff. I ordered a personal pizza with extra cheese, pepperoni and hamburger and can vouch for the quality that put this place on the map. When I make it back there in the uncertain future, I’ll eat there again. My trip there had to be a bit rushed because I had a goal of getting to Lake Powell before dark. The route would take me right through the Navajo Nation in the northeastern corner of AZ. I’d travel right past one of the entrances of the Grand Canyon and the landscape would change to match a GC like region. This was the first time that the word “exotic” came to mind while describing a landscape. The reds in the surrounding mountains matched that of Sedona, but were accompanied by greys, violets, oranges, and a huge blue sky. Parts of the ride through the reservation just looked unreal (I know I’ve said that before). I can’t find a better word. This place slowed my pace of travel to a crawl. Not to complain, but to slam the brakes on, take my big gloves off, undo my helmet strap, take the helmet off, dig the camera out, turn it on, set up a shot, turn the camera off, put it away, put my helmet back on, strap it, put my gloves back on, and take off only to stop a mile later becomes pretty monotonous once you’ve done it 40 times in 40 miles. My job is to not leave any stone unturned, so I will push on and keep up the pace as long as I’m allowed to be a wuss and cry here and there. Honestly, the place was so great that I still rode through with a giant smile and a feeling of awe.
Page is on the border of the beautiful reservation and sits near the Lake Powell area on the AZ side. Earlier in the day I searched for a campground on-line and found one. I arrived in Page after dark (no surprise), tracked down the campground and settled in for the night.
(having wi-fi issues, more pics asap)