Day 5 - Cottonwood to Winslow

Today was a day of contrasts. After our usual breakfast we headed from Cottonwood and its dry sagebrush to Sedona. Sedona is of course known for its lifestyle and the red rocks that attract the rich and famous to this town. However, without the rich and famous Sedona would be little more that dry sagebrush surrounded by beautiful red rock cliffs. As we continued past Sedona through the Oak Creek River valley, the cliffs got closer the pine trees more plentiful and after a while we were in a forest. Ultimately the road goes up the cliff in a series of switch backs and cyclists slow down and breathe more deeply. At the top there is a great overlook where you can see the road you just climbed. It seems as if the sweet from your brow would land at the base of the assent.

Along the road from Sedona there were all sorts of groups that had taken responsibility for litter removal, local businesses, families (often in memory of someone), and local organizations (churches and a rescue group –Ropes that Save). The weirdest was a group ‘Ye Will Not Throw Trash Here’; I don’t know but it might work. Another strange thing I noticed was that as I approached the climb the road on my Garmin GPS looked as if there was a small red bead on the red line for the road. As I got closer, I could expand the scale and see that the bead was in fact the switchbacks on the climb.

Once the climb was over we headed for Flagstaff a large town with at least two universities and a railroad. It also was the first time we encountered the Santa Fe mainline. It runs through the town and all North-South roads seem to have graded crossings, so when a train comes to town all North-South traffic comes to a halt. This may not seem like that big a problem and maybe for the residents of Flagstaff it isn’t, but many trains are a mile and a half long and they slow down when going through towns. In addition based on what I saw in the afternoon when we followed the mainline on I40, there are several trains every hour. One might never imagine how much stuff is moved by the railroad. I was told that the railroads are benefiting from the high cost of gas because they are the most energy efficient was to move goods. Who would have thought that someone besides the oil companies would benefit from the high price of oil?

Flagstaff is also the first place where we rode on old US Route 66; it is the main street of Flagstaff. A little ways out of town Route 66 disappears and we were on I40 for 50 miles to Winslow. I rode at over 20 mph for most of it. It felt like a tailwind but in reality the air was calm, it was just that we lost 2000 feet over those 50 miles. Flagstaff to Winslow is high desert with nothing of note but Meteor Crater, a quarter mile in diameter hole, about six miles from I40. I didn’t bother to go have a look since in addition to the extra miles they charge $15 to see the crater.

Winslow is a town with little reason to exist. There is a railroad stop and they have built exits from I40, but the evidence of poverty for the people who are not living in the boarded up buildings is oppressive. Three or four stores make some money at the corner made famous by the Eagles song and there is a parked flat bed Ford, sans the red headed girl. So while I didn’t get a lift into town from her this year, I should be glad that this year I saw her truck. Our motel was the same motel from hell of last year. The only improvement over last year was that the air conditioning worked; but with temperatures in the fifties that was only a small plus. The staff and food service was just a bad as last year.

Winslow has one interesting aspect, Las Posedia, a hotel and restaurant. The hotel was built by the Harvey Corporation in 1930. I was the last of the Harvey hotels on the Santa Fe line. It has been restored and is a magnificent piece of Southwestern architecture. The hotel is a tourist destination and the restaurant is great. It is not 5 star dining, but it is so much better than the other fare in town, low end franchises, that you marvel at the fact that it even exists. Five of us had a wonderful diner as we watch the trains pass by. We then went directly to our beds where we dreamed of a fine meal and the 130 miles of I40 that connect Winslow to Gallup NM.