We rolled into Kingman and came across the local breakfast meeting of the old car club. There was about 8 great cars, but I liked the bus. The body is a 1946, but it sets on a Ford F150 chassis. This was it's second outing. Nick, the owner, has been building it so that his daughter, who is in a wheel chair, can go to antique car shows in style. In Kingman we got on Route 66 and headed east.
We stopped in the Kingman airport. This is where airplanes come to rest or be buried. There were many more than the pictures show.
Back on Route 66 we came across some Harleys on the side of the road and saw a bunch of guys in green vests. It was the Desert Rough Riders motorcycle club and they had adopted this part of the highway. They had picked up a lot of trash. We talked a few minutes and then they went back to work.
Of course we had to stop in Truxton to visit Chuck and Charlie. This place was very busy today with locals and tourist getting gas. Two German girls stopped to buy cigarettes. Chuck does not sell cigarettes but the girls were thrilled that he would let them smoke in his store out of the wind. He told about a lady that stopped in one time and asked if he sold cigarettes. He said "no, we just sell moonshine, marijuana, and unlicensed firearms." She slid back her jacket and showed her badge from the Arizona Tobacco and Firearms commission. She did not see the humor in it. Chuck sprayed some cleaner on Scoot to clean up a film of oil from the maintenance shop that had gathered dirt. Charlie made me a care package of souvenirs. He had other stuff but realized I did not have much room. We said goodbye again and I am sure that the business will still be here when I pass this way again, with Charlie following in his Pop's foot steps.
Again I say, great people.I cruised on down Route 66 passing going businesses and some that were long closed. When I had the tail wind we were rippin'.
I got on I-40 about 10 miles before I wanted, but it was not a bad ride, even with the trucks passing by. I got to pass one on a long climb up a hill, but shortly he blew by me again.
I pulled in to Ash Fork for lunch. A customer noticed my t-shirt and asked that I show it to his wife. Thus I met Hugh and Reba. They have a small farm out in the country at the end of a 9 mile dirt road. They had had a 1963 Vespa that had all it's parts but did not run. They had acquired or actually rescued it from a neighbor. He had finally given it to some one that made a table out of it. We had a long conversation about all the interesting things in the area that are not on any map or tourist route. There are old Indian ruins, a cave dug by Chinese railroad workers and lots of other things including a flying saucer. They invited me back any time for a tour of the area.
Ten more miles of I-10 to Williams and I was done with the interstate. Running through Williams I found a large group of motorcycles. I later learned they had turned out for a funeral for a local soldier killed in Afghanistan. The soldier had bought a new bike, but never got a chance to ride it.
We ran up AZ64 to the Grand Canyon and paid way too much for a hotel room at the Red Feather. But it is the old story, location, location. I had tried the Holiday Inn Express in hopes of waking up smarter tomorrow but it was full.
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