High Plains Drifters: A Thanksgiving Jackpot

The High Plains Drifters (our Southwestern nom de blog) brought the song lyrics, “Over the river and through the woods. . .” to life on Thanksgiving morning. 



Tossing aside the traditional holiday falderal, we set out – for the first time ever - on a winter road trip. We headed for America’s Southwest on a 1,628 mile route that would take us from Washington State, across Oregon and a tip of Idaho, into Nevada, Utah and to our destination, Arizona.

Winter road trips through this area of the country require bi-polar packing: flip-flops, shorts, and suntan lotion in the suitcases that sit next to tire chains, snow boots, gloves and window scrapers in the car’s trunk.

We were prepared for winter’s potentially worst driving conditions and were pleasantly surprised to find the only ‘snowy conditions’ were on the trees and roadside on Washington’s Snoqualmie Pass (top photo).

It was sunshine and blue skies as we crossed the Columbia River and entered Oregon country.



Crossing Oregon’s Blue Mountains (this photo at the summit) was a snap. Traveling on Thanksgiving Day made for virtually no traffic. . .we did pass a group of wild turkeys standing along the roadside, showing off, we think,  for having avoided the platter for another year.

Our route through central Oregon was flanked with the Wallowa Mountain range in the distance to our left and the Blue Mountains (pictured) to our right.

Day 1: Was a bottom-buster:  11 hours and 693 miles.  Subsequent days we allowed ourselves a bit more sightseeing, fewer miles and less hours in the car. 

We reached our destination: Jackpot, Nevada – a wide spot in the road just south of the Idaho border, with four casinos, three hotels and a service station at 6:45 p.m. our time; 7:45 p.m. by the Mountain Time they follow here.The casino/hotel we’d hoped to stay in was sold out – luckily the place across the street, Barton’s Club 93  had rooms ($57 a night)and food. 




We could have had the traditional turkey either as a plated meal or from the buffet.  But we’d already thrown tradition aside. . .

. . . so we opted to hit the Thanksgiving Jackpot with chicken fried steak platters!

Hope you’ll come back for Day II of the winter road trip – we’ll be leaving early tomorrow so pack your bag and join us!

High Plains Drifters and Sherman our Tank

There is something about us and rental cars in Arizona. . .

Remember Ol’ Orange from last spring? We felt as if we were in a Sunkist citrus commercial as we buzzed through the Valley of the Sun in a burnt navel orange.
 
Then there was that little tin tuna can we drove for a week last fall – the one that cost us $600 because we missed the small print about a one-way drop charge.

So, it should be no surprise when I introduce you to Sherman, (short for Sherman the Tank) our wheels for this spring’s Arizona road trip:




Sherman, a Mercury Marquis, is a big ol’ boy. So big that I sit on towels that I take from the room so that I can see out the front. . .that’s one big ol’ stretch of hood you might notice.  Joel, who operates this tank, has compared some maneuvers to how it might be steering a cruise ship.

We got a great rate on a small compact car for our 16 days here. Advantage price: $385. But they didn’t have a compact for us and after we turned down their offers to pay a bit more for a bigger car, they simply told us they were upgrading us at no charge. End result? Sherman.

The travel tip with this story is: sometimes bigger isn’t better even if it is free.

On the flip side: if for some reason we needed a place to sleep, we could certainly stretch out in our car. 

Sherman's gotten us to some mighty nice places this last week and I’ll be telling you more about them later on.  Right now I have to figure out what that little red light on the dashboard that came on this morning might mean. . .

High Plains Drifters on the Road Again

The High Plains Drifters, our other nom de blog, will soon be living for a couple of weeks in our hot, dry timeshare world -  Arizona’s desert. 

We’ve got plans to see a number of long time friends from the Northwest (who have also migrated south seeking sun) as well as some local folks we’ve met in the blogosphere: Jackie Dishner author of the guidebook, Backroads and Byways of Arizona, and publisher of the blog, Bike with Jackie (I love that title!) and David and Carol Porter, known  as The Roaming Boomers.  (Take a minute and check out those blogs by clicking the blue links.)

Before we settle in to our Scottsdale ‘home-away-from- home’ life, we’ll be traveling some of the back roads and byways,with stops in Prescott and Jerome in the north central part of the state.
 
We’ll also be taking a four-hour tour aboard the vintage train, the Verde Canyon Railroad, travelin’ 12 miles an hour through the Verde Canyon, once the home of the Sinagua Indians.

Have any recommendations for us in the Scottsdale/Phoenix area? Or north central Arizona?  How about recommendations for books set in Arizona? 

High Plains Drifters find an Oasis

There are certain clichés that travel editors preach against writers using. One of them is “Oasis” as in, ‘After miles of dry desert, we happened upon an oasis.’

So with all due respect to editors everywhere, I need to tell you that we happened upon a most memorable ‘oasis’  Saturday on our road trip between Las Vegas and Scottsdale. 

We had taken Highway 40, a route that led us east through northern Arizona’s high desert along the Coconino Plateau; a route punctuated with road signs marking our climb in elevation to beyond the the 5,000+ foot level.

Our original plan was to have lunch in Prescott, the bustling town 95-miles north of Phoenix, but by noon we were still miles from there. . . however, we were nearing a turn-off to Ash Fork.

Kingman to Phoenix

Ash Fork, with a population in 2007 of 2,300, didn’t make it on this map, but is near Seligman. It was Ash Fork, we decided, we’d have lunch. As we drove the two-lane street toward what we thought was town center a welcome sign told us this place was  “The flagstone capital of the world”. The claim was illustrated in all types of construction -- homes, planters. . .there was flagstone everywhere.

What we didn’t see was any sign of was a commercial center, that is until the Oasis appeared. . .the Oasis Lounge, to be exact.
As we got out of our car, two big black guard dogs barked out a welcome from their viewing stand deck above the red truck in the photo. (Click to enlarge the photo if you want to see the canine crew).

Three people were sipping beers at the small bar to the left of the entry and a shuffle board table and pool table served as the tavern’s centerpieces.

“You folks looking for food?” called out the leather-jacket-clad bartender. He gestured to the back room and said, “The food’s back there.”

We were the only ones in the ‘cafe’ section so we selected one of the six booths that ringed its perimeter. Our booth provided a view of a Van Gogh reproduction on the opposite wall, as well as a washer and dryer sitting next to two center tables in the cafe, and a hand truck propped against another booth. Near the kitchen's swinging doors, a booth was set up with computers – we assumed it was the business office -- and near it were a couple broken chairs and some kids toys.

Okay, I have to be honest – I was ready to leave, but Joel reminded me we travel for ‘the experiences’ and this had promise of an experience.

Our waitress was also the cook.  We had a selection of a half dozen Mexican dishes from which to choose from on the 'lunch specials'.  Joel got the combination plate; I ordered two chicken tacos.  Although they came out as beef tacos, our  food was steaming hot. We were too early for the rice to be  quite ready but our cook/waitress had us taste it anyway –  (it was good).  In fact all the food was good, with a home-made good taste to it.

While we waited for the food we chatted with the bartender who told us the place had once been a car repair garage (note the front door in the photo – it was the car bay entry once). 

The town, he told us,  had once been a railroad stop and is right off the old Route 66. 

The train comes by these days - it no longer stops.  A section of old Route 66 is a scenic bypass between Kingman and Ash Fork. 

As we drove out of town we noted two other more traditional diner-type eateries down the road a bit, but our stop at the Oasis Lounge at 346 W.Park Ave., Ash Fork, AZ 86320, phone 928-637-2650 proved those editors wrong: you can find an oasis in the desert!.

Ouch! This one “Hertz”

Or the tale of our tiny silver ‘limo’.


The old adage ‘the devil’s in the details’ comes to mind as I tell the  latest segment in the High Plains Drifters travels. Those details are important when it comes to travel. . .and this time we slipped up and missed one tiny detail.   A costly little one, at that.

Rental cars are not cheap commodities these days no matter how good a deal you get. There are the usual add-ons like city, county, state taxes to which are added  “concession recovery  fees, facility fees and vehicle license cost recovery fees'” and, in the case of Hertz, the second driver (me) fee of $12 a day which we passed on. 

. . .ah, yes, then there is that drop off fee if you don’t return the car to the same place you picked it up.

That’s the  one  that nailed us.  We thought we’d confirmed we were picking up in Vegas and dropping off in Phoenix but somehow missed that detail.  A costly error indeed.

The Hertz counter agent quickly recalculated our rental and without blinking an eye our six day Nissan Versa  ‘economy’ car  (meaning ‘tiny’ not ‘cheap’) skyrocketed from the $285 to $604.

So with our accommodations pre-paid in Phoenix and our plane tickets home from there, there weren’t many options before us.  (Yes, we considered turning it in immediately upon arrival in Phoenix and renting a car there but that created a one-day rental fee of $245, pretty much defeating the purpose of salvaging some of the cost).

So we set off in what I am calling our ‘tiny silver limo’’ on a great route to Phoenix. More on that in our next post. For now, if you have a trip planned, go check your documents – one more time.

Nevada's 'Biggest Little City in the World'

Google Maps and Expedia had nailed it pretty well - it took us just less than their estimated eight hours to travel from Las Vegas to Reno, Nevada. They listed 452 miles, we traveled 465. We also veered off their directions (when do we ever follow set routes?) and took the scenic route north primarily following State Route 95 and its Alternate SR 95.  We followed long stretches of deserted roadway through unseasonably green desert lands. 

The route provided us a trip through history thanks to the small towns through which we passed.  Towns such as Goldfield where empty buildings are but a reminder of its glorious goldmining days. It's just down the road 'a piece' from Tonopah, the town I wrote about a few days ago.  Goldfield's 1906 Esmeralda County Courthouse seems to be in the best shape with the old hotel down the road appearing to be poised for renovation.

   Mining operation near Goldfield/Tonopah

Mina, an old railroad town founded back in 1905, about an hour from Goldfield, seemed to have nothing more open than a single burger joint.  A sign welcomed ATV-ers (that would be all-terrain vehicles) to its more than 500 miles of trails and a subsequent internet search after we got home confirmed it's popularity with outdoor enthusiasts.

A couple hours beyond Mina we passed the Wabuska Bar and Rooms, a wooden building dating back to 1881; then a stop on the East-West Rail line.  The place is for sale according to the internet - hopefully the new owners will retain its historic presence in the middle of the desert.

There were a few brothels along the way as the activity inside them is legal in parts of the state. For more on this topic you'll have to do your own roadtrip or internet research.

The High Plains Drifters crossed elevations some 5,000 - 6,000 feet in height with temperatures at the summits in the 90's - I couldn't help but think of those pioneers who crossed these vast countrysides on horseback and in covered wagons. It was early afternoon when we reached Walker Lake a 12-mile long, 5-mile wide liquid oasis near the town of Hawthorne.  I read an article recently about words to avoid in travel writing.  "Oasis" is such a word. The article's authors claimed their are few true such places - I believe they need to do a road trip in Nevada and they'll change their minds on that word.  RV's and motorhomes were beginning to stake claims to spots along its banks of the 'oasis' as the Fourth of July long weekend approached.

We could have reached Reno sooner and maybe even shaved off some of the miles we logged that day, but the point of the trip had been to see the sights and on this particular day we got our money's worth!

Old Glory - A Red, White and Blue Road Trip

             Palazzo, Las Vegas

The "High Plains Drifters", as I named us for this journey, set out to see America's West on this 12-day road trip that took us 2,733.5 miles from start to finish. We twice crossed Washington State, traversed central Oregon and looped our way around Nevada, and nipped off a corner of northeastern California for good measure.  At one point we were next door to Arizona and a stone's throw away from southwestern Utah.

We returned to a cloudy, cold Kirkland with our skin a deeper shade of  tan, our souls refreshed and confident that the old west is alive and well. We are even more assured on this Fourth of July that despite the continuing media headlines of our county's economic woes and the on-going political finger-pointing, that at least in the West, America, too, is alive and well, as evidenced by those flag-waving patriotic people and places we found along the way.

                Burns, Oregon

Flags fluttered along our route from Hawthorne, Nevada with its enormous flag flying from a skyscraper-sized flag pole to the flag-lined highway at Pilot Rock, Oregon; from the Old Glory painted windmill blades on a farm outside John Day, Oregon to a campground on the Ukiah-Dale Scenic Biway where individual campsites displayed flags and red, white and blue banners.. .not to mention the dozens of towns, ranches and farms in between, decked out in red, white and blue.

We traveled roadways that at times followed or intersected the same routes as did those thousands of brave pioneers more than a century ago. Those who followed the Oregon Trail, the Noble Emigrant Trail and other routes across Nevada's Great Basins and on through Death Valley or the many mountain passes, like that  made famous by the Donner Party.

All those many folks who are credited with settling  the West were on a red, white and blue road trip of their own design ~in search of their American dreams; ultimately laying the cornerstones for the West that we were happy to find is still alive and well.

Heading North through Nevada

             Nevada Highway

The High Plains Drifters head north today through the high desert and Great Basin in Nevada. Reno is our first night's destination on the anticipated three-day trip back to the Pacific Northwest.  We avoided the 107-degree afternoon temperatures at poolside and opted to research destinations.  Best deal found: $49 a night room at the Silver Legacy Resort Casino so there we will go.

Expedia and Google maps tell us our travels will cover 452 miles and it will take eight hours.  I'll let you know how close they are to accuracy.

           Herbie and our Camry

Tara asked on an earlier post if we were driving Herbie, my 69 VW Bug (that my dad bought used in '71 for my college car)  and after several years and dollars spent on restoring my dear old car, I just chuckled at the thought. 

Well, I chuckled until we reached Tonopah on our trip south.  Because at the service station where we stopped to fill up our Camry, we saw this ol' boy, a 70 VW Bug that the owners assured me had served them well. 

              Herbie's cousin

Maybe it is time to have a bit more work done on Herbie - for the next road trip!

Tonopah, Nevada - a gem of a mining town

Tonopah, Nevada

The High Plains Drifters spent our second night of the road trip in Tonopah, Nevada, an old silver-mining town in the central part of the state that got its start when in 1900, a prospector by the name of Jim Butler took shelter from a thunderstorm under a ledge. . .yup, he whittled away at that ledge and sure enough struck silver. (Need I say there's a hotel in town that carries his name as do festivals?)

The town's prosperity peaked in 1913 when mining had netted some $9.5 million.  These days the mining still continues.  Turquoise jewelry sold in one of two gift shops in town was mined from the nearby hills, we were told.  In fact Nevada is the fourth-largest gold producer in the world and is responsible for 80 percent of all gold produced in the United States.

Tonopah is but a wide spot on the vast Nevada countryside offering a half dozen hotels (and two shells of what were once vibrant multi-storied hotels), a few watering holes and eateries.  But it is a charming wide spot - we planned this trip so we could spend a night here, having spent a night several years ago at the Best Western.  This time we stayed at Tonopah Station, the Ramada Inn, with an over-the-top Wild West decor. At this hotel you roll dice to see if your room is free -- it is Nevada, afterall -- and they told us that usually twice a day people win their rooms; sigh, we didn't.

                      Cabin at the Mining Park

And the hotel's parking lot lights were so bright I never did do any stargazing.  We may have to go back just for the purpose of Star Gazing now that we have a map of the areas best star gazing trails.  We also plan to visit the sprawling Tonopah Historic Mining Park where we can take a self-guided walking tour of Jim Butler's original discovery sites.  The "Burro Tunnel Underground Adventure," opened in 2004, takes you into the original mine and at the end, you can step into a steel viewing cage, suspended over a 500-foot mine slope.  Maybe we will do that part. . .