Today was give
your horse a break day. Lynn's friend, also by the name of Lynn –
is in town for the week. They planned a drive up to Prescott for a
day of sight seeing and invited me along. I unhooked the Bison and
headed for Lynn's at the Nines. Pete, the Lynn's and I piled into the
Tacoma for a day trip up North.
Lynn wanted to
show us some of the street names in the tiny town of Congress. Names
such as Ghost Town Road, Meandering Lane and Outlaw Drive. I thought
it was quite appropriate when most of the streets we turned down in "Congress" resulted in a dead end. Something I've noticed about these
small towns in Arizona: There is a second hand store, Art Gallery's
and Saloon on every block and probably several of each. They aren't
much on grocery stores or gas stations...but if you want to get
loaded and buy a bunch of crap...this might be the state for you.
The road from
Congress to Yarnell and on to Prescott starts to climb in elevation
and number of curves. By the time we reached Prescott – I had to
pour myself out of the vehicle. I've always been prone to motion
sickness and today was a prime example of why I prefer to travel via
horseback.
We found a place
to park in front of the Yavapai County Court House – directly in
front of a sign stating: If you don't fit – DON'T PARK. We squeezed
into a spot with room to spare on both sides. We ft! Unfortunately,
the local traffic enforcement officer did not agree, as indicated by
the $93.00 parking ticket left on our windshield. How four pair of
eyes didn't see the graphic specifying the length portion of the
ordinance remains a mystery.
We stopped in at
The Lone Spur for lunch. Our waiter was quite the character. He
started out by placing our silverware on the table in a most dramatic
fashion. As he placed the flatware in each hand, he slowly raised his
arms and exclaimed: “Look, I am a fork lift!” It would have been
funnier had he actually been holding two forks and not two knives.
We
wandered around Prescott's historic district and found ourselves
cutting through an alley that led us to “Whiskey Row.” Saloon
after saloon with a spattering of Art Gallery's and other
entertainment venues line the alley of Whiskey Row. Famous western
figures of the likes of Wyatt and Virgil Earp and Doc Holiday
frequented the famous “The Palace Restaurant and Saloon” founded
in 1877...now the oldest business in Arizona.
We
stopped at the Granite Mountain Memorial dedicated to the 19 members
of the Granite Mountain Hotshots who lost their lives during the
Yarnell Hill wildfire in 2013. It is a beautiful but sobering
reminder of the impermanence of life.
The
sun was beginning to set as I made my way down highway 71. The
Maricopa Indian stood tall and silent against a backdrop of stunning
fire lit by the setting sun. I pulled over and rested my head on the
steering wheel and had myself a good cry. Yesterday was my dad's
birthday. I would have called him a day late and we would have tried
to remember if it was the 28th
or the 29th.
Neither of us would remember. I might have sent him a card...or I
might have forgot until a week later. I might have baked a spice cake
with cream cheese frosting and spent the day with him. I might have.
I might have been too busy. Now... I just wish I could.
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