Holbrook, AZ circa 2003

Wigwam Motel, Holbrook, AZ

Driving into town from Interstate 40, which roughly parallels most of what remains of historic Route 66 in Arizona, it was obvious that Holbrook, AZ had seen better days. Lots of rundown budget motels with busted back-lit signs, advertising cheap rates: "2 X $18", a double for eighteen bucks. We get a room at the Wigwam Motel, with its concrete teepee shaped rooms, all of which have antique cars from the golden age of motoring, parked in front of them. This motel, Wigwam Village #6, I believe, was built around 1950, before the interstate was finished, after which interstate travel blew by Holbrook a couple miles north of old Route 66.

Holbrook Rocks! A good place to buy rocks, if nothing else.

H. thought it'd be a good idea to walk around and take photos of the rundown buildings and funky old signs. I had my doubts, knowing with our cameras that we would stand out as tourists, in a town where I hadn't seen any tourists on the street. We walked around the dusty streets, Historic Route 66, once teaming with millions of motorists and vacationing families per year. Now as we walked past the old motels and motor lodges, some with broken windows, looking abandoned, and past some faded dive bars and rock shops, we were the only vacationers to be seen. We were also seen by some old drunks who hit us up for change.

Our concrete Teepee.

The sun would be setting soon and I started to feel anxious. It seemed to us that now would be a good time to head back to our teepee. A tall, gangly, native american guy, missing some teeth, with a deeply pockmarked face, which it seemed a lot of punches had found in his life, approached us, slurring as he demanded money. He seemed disappointed in what we'd given him, and acted hostile. We walked quickly back, stopping at the Safeway across from the Wigwam Motel, getting some sandwich fixings and a much needed six-pack, and holing up in the Wigwam. Now I could relax in Holbrook, drinking ale and writing family and friends about my experience.

Okay food. Yes, we have Historic Rout 66 knick-knacks.

The next morning we went to the historic Joe and Aggie's cafe where we ate omelets with a choice of red or green chile sauce. I wasn't very impressed as I ate my omelette, watching the flies tap audibly against the dirty window looking out onto the Mother Road. If you wanted to buy rocks, though, seemed Holbrook was a good place to do it.

Dinosaurs, fossils, rocks, asphalt, and fossil fuel.

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