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Ian Rambles
Mostly museumed out today.
Hundreds of miles from the sea, one of the Kingman
museums had a chunky fishermans anchor on display alongside
a model of a steam powered stern wheeler. The story:
The Vessel was constructed in the eastern USA, dismantled,
shipped to California via Panama, remantled - and then
powered up the Colorado river ( very slowly as it was
badly underpowered ) until it was wrecked somewhere
close to where the Hoover dam now stands. This expedition
was in order to test the route to get supplies to troops
involved in the Mormon wars.
Fiona's Journal
We have done three museums today. The first was a tiny
amateur affair in the little village of Ashforke and
was great fun. We took pictures of the boys sitting
at a poker table with the no-good gamblers of the Wild
West days and then in the reconstructed jail.
Then there was a pair of fascinating museums in Kingman
the first covering the local mining enterprises, the
history of the railroad, the depression and the dustbowl
and the mass emigration West towards California that
was triggered by these disasters and the second covering
the history of the area from the Native American perspective.
We ate at “The Roadkill Cafe” in where Harry
had a “Bambi Burger”, George had “Rocky
the Low-Flying Squirrel” and among other delights
on offer were “Fried Toad” (died in the road),
and “The Chicken that Almost Crossed the Road”.
Arthur bought a little bag of Elk Droppings to share
in the car.
The road between Kingman and Oatman was dramatic and
precipitous and narrow and mostly without barriers.
It afforded some spectacular views and our first Roadrunner
bird (they really do run just like the cartoon version!).
Oatman had the classic appearance of a Wild West town
with old wooden shopfronts and saloon bars and verandas
with a wooden rail you could hitch a horse to. It was
a dusty 110 degrees and it even smelled right because
of the horse dung all over the road. Except that it
was actually burro dung we soon discovered as the wild
burros wander through the town at will. We had a drink
in a saloon who's every surface was papered with one
dollar bills on which previous customers had signed
their names or written messages – there must have
been several thousand dollar's worth and George was
sorely tempted!
Then, once again, we abandoned Route 66 and headed
North on Highway 95 to see Las Vegas (the real one this
time) in Nevada. We picked up supper at a Drive-Thru
Arbie's and ate in the car while heading into the centre
of Vegas to “cruise the strip”. That had considerable
WOW! factor too, I have to say. The sheer mass of neon
and the fantasy buildings and the heaving throng of
people just out to have fun was really exhilarating.
On the other hand I had no desire to get out and join
them – I was happy just to observe. I'm not sure
if I was more amused or despairing to see an elaborately
decorated van drive past advertising “Beautiful
Girls Delivered to Your Room 24/7”. We returned
to our motel to plan tomorrow's itinerary and get a
good night's sleep.
Arthur's Log:
Roadkill Cafe amused me. "Rocky the Low
Flying Squirrel" was the best name but i also liked
Rigormortis Tortoise
Muck of Duck hit by a Truck
Splatter Platter
Hard luck duck
I also got some deer droppings on the way out.
We drove a road that was just basicly a L cut into
the side of the moutain with a vertical wall up on your
left and a vertical wall down on the right.
We found a cafe in Oatman at the end of the mountain
road were they had papered the walls with dollar bills,
thousands of them, it was rather nice.
The Harry Report
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George's Musings
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