The most direct route back home to our coach “Dolly’s Pride” parked in Laughlin, Nevada from Oatman, Arizona would have retraced our drive through Bullhead City’s business district – a stop and go series of traffic lights.
“Come on,” I whined. “We are already on Old Historic Route 66. Let’s take it to Kingman then shoot across the freeway.”
Ed half-heartedly compromised to go a few miles on the rural two-lane. He finally gave into to my plan when he saw the desert scenery and the windy road. “Oh, what the hell!” I heard him concede.
We both longed to have our old Miata convertible on this road instead of the Toyota.
This part of Route 66 deserves an award for its scenery and absence of rundown remnants of its glory days before the building of the interstate highway system.
April 1, 2009