Although Winslow was named after some long forgotten dignitary, it was really made famous by a line from an old Eagles song of the early 70’s that has the lyric,
“Standin’ on the corner of Winslow, Arizona,
such a fine sight to see.
A girl, My Lord, in a flat bed Ford,
Is slowin’ down to take a look at me”.
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| Look in the window and you will see that there was an epilogue to the story. |
Downtown Winslow is rather small, and there are not too many intersections. Although one in particular that recreated that scene from the song attracts more than a little bit of interest. A bronze statue of Don Henley (the songwriter of those famous lyrics) standing on the corner with his guitar and in the shadow of a big mural portraying the little vignette. A red flatbed Ford is parked just around the corner to complete the image.
For the purposes of The Bruiser Blog, it is important to note that a subsequent line in that song goes,
“You may lose, or you may win
But you will never be here again…”
… and I am ever mindful of that.
We come this way but once. One has a personal responsibility to make it worthwhile.
I skirted the Evil I-40 by taking 99 through Reserve land to Leupp that was quite lovely in its wide-open splendor, and it delivered me to Flagstaff. The old town in Flagstaff is a treat for the eyes. Situated directly on the old Route 66 the buildings maintain that sense of nostalgia and funky architecture of another era that I quite like.
Of course one cannot possibly go through this region of northern Arizona without having the Sedona experience. Red canyon walls and fantastic wind sculpted rock forms which are backdrops to the emerald greenery of the pine forests and occasional cactus is spellbinding. Some sections were so impossibly beautiful that my heart was actually racing. I had to back up and run through some sections twice. Unfortunately the pictures I have fall quite short of capturing the scenes and can only serve as references and reminders.
Since I came through Sedona about 10 years ago, it has, unfortunately, grown up and become kind of city-like. That is regrettable, but inevitable. No Walmart yet, but it is simply a matter of time.
Again, to dodge the interstate I stayed on 89A and followed it south as far as I could. As luck would have it, this caused me to stumble upon Jerome. Wow! Billed as a mile high ghost town, this old copper mining town is not just perched up high in the hills, it is actually hanging off the steep face of the mountain. Switchback streets of the town are lined with interesting old buildings as well as newer touristy affairs. I have never seen anything like it! It must be experienced!
Needless to say, the twisty roads that snaked up one side of the 7000 ft mountain and down the other side made for some mighty fine riding!
But at some point it had to spill me out on Interstate 17 back to Phoenix. Truck traffic was light, but it was fast and gusty and quite exhausting.
I really hate interstate highways.
