I had my shower, but before sorting out breakfast, I came across a billboard advertising the Arizona Highland Celtic Festival (I did come across a hoard of pipers in kilts in the Weatherford Hotel the other evening) being held at the weekend in Fox Glenn Park. I thought this would be too good to miss, and worked out where the park was and made my way there.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
There were men and women in every tartan imaginable, all with American accents. One of the kilted chaps I spoke to, who was a piper in one of the bands, said that out of the group of 20 in his band, only two were Scottish by birth, the rest had Scottish blood in then from generations past.
For breakfast I had Haggis pup (another word for a well seasoned sausage), mashed potatoes (not a patch on taties) and gravy. Neaps were not in the vocabulary. Basically it was bangers and mash, nothing to write home about at all. The other great favourite was the Irish corned beef sandwich. Hmm... I have missed out in my education somewhere.
The lady at the Welsh League of Arizona stall said that she helped run Welsh classes in Phoenix. I wondered how many English folk give lessons in Navajo back in the UK. Wales would fit into Maricopa County in Arizona, and more people live in the county than in Wales. After uttering, "Diolch" for the information, I parted with a, "Pob hwyl" (For the uninitiated thank you and goodbye). I visited the Davidson clan stall and asked about the Harley branch. It took a wee while for them to cotton on, I thought it might have been my accent, and fortunately they saw the funny side.
There were umpteen workshops running all weekend: e.g. learn to play the musical bones, learn to play the tin whistle, story telling, Irish poetry, Celtic appliqu�. I declined the whiskey tasting opportunities, and the memorabilia stalls didn't interest me at all.
|
|
|
Massed Bands Procession |
In the sports arena, huge guys and also 'big' ladies were engaged in typical highland games sports. Swinging a heavy weight backwards and forwards between their legs before hauling it high into the air and behind them to get over a bar. Crumbs, if they got that wrong they could kill themselves. The women's' weights were 28lbs, the men had 42lbs and 56lbs options. Hammers were being thrown too, but I didn't hang around to see the caber tossing. I learned that these ranged in length from 8' to 20', and in weight from 28lbs to 120lbs.
|
|
|
However, after four hours, the monsoon season was catching up with the event, and I decided to clear out before I got soaked. You can only see so many kilts in a day. I did notice that male American kilt wearers didn't bother much with dignity, and fortunately they all wore shorts of sorts underneath, thank God!
It was a sad occasion to leave Flagstaff, the place had really grown on me, there seemed so much going on there, and it was a natural hub to base myself for exploring the surrounding area. It just had a good feel to it.
Route 66 of Course |
Now Route 66 had become firmly established in the annals of Americana. The lore of the road painted romantic pictures of a simpler time. It conjured images of weary travelers in classic cars resting for the night at rustic auto courts in quaint little towns where mam and dad still ran the soda fountain and a dime store sold things for a dime. It quietly revered the sad lot of those people who were displaced from their homes and driven by the ravages of the Dustbowl and the Great Depression. It beckoned to the adventurer with the promise of new experiences and excitement beyond each turn. By now I considered myself more of an adventurer and traveler, rather than a tourist, and I just had to drive this 100 mile section.
Driving along this road, which was now effectively bypassed by the I40 further south, gave me a tremendous sense of space both on the road and also in wide open countryside. Mountains were always visible not far from the road, but far enough to let me know that this was a big country. The road was never far from the railroad, and I would pass by mile long trains carrying all manner of freight to destinations I'd never know. The long wide valley that I was passing through allowed vision for many scores of miles, and I could see thunderstorm cells far in the distance, and I would try to modify my speed so as to avoid colliding with then.
I stopped on one of the many long straight sections of the road to take some photos, and it was then that a glint caught my eye. I knew I had a problem with my front offside wheel and figured I would need to get the tracking sorted out at some point. I had not appreciated how bad it was, until I noticed that there was a lot of wear on the side of the tyre, and now it had worn down to the steel threads. This was serious, and I knew I had to get the tyre relaced as soon as possible. I proceeded at reduce speed to Peach Springs, hoping to find a garage there, but no such luck. I was informed there was a garage at the next town of Truxton, so I limped along to there. This town had a population that could be counted on two hands, but it did have a very small dilapidated garage. I pulled in assuming such a small run down place would not have a tyre for my vehicle. I could of course have used the small width spare, but that was for emergency use only, with a 50 mph limit attached to it. I just wanted a proper tyre.
Long Straight Route 66 with Thunderstorms on the Horizon |
While he was carrying out the task, a thunderstorm had overtaken his garage and it was belting it down and the lightening strikes were close by. I hung about and chatted for a while. I asked him how he survived in such an isolated area, with most of the traffic taking the I40. His father had bought the garage in 1978, and now he ran the garage, and he relied heavily on vehicles from the nearby Hualapai Indian Reservation. The Indians did have a garage in their territory at one time, but the owner of that wound it up when the outstanding monies owed to him exceeded $600k. This chap would only do work for them on a basis of cash up front. We watched the rain together, and he told me that this was the first rain he had fall on his garage in six months. He gathered I was traveling, and I got onto the topic of selling the vehicle. In his opinion, based on what he saw of the van, and the age and mileage, he thought a quick sale through a dealer might get me $1-1.5k, and a more measured sale might get me up to $3k. This gave me a warm feeling, not that I needed warming up in this climate. The guy was anxious to close shop, so I thanked him and headed back onto the road.
I felt easier on my drive down to Kingman. The journey did become a little monotonous a little after Hackberry, there was a long, straight section of road like an arrow for over twenty miles. These builders learned a lot from the Romans.
I arrived on the outskirts of Kingman, where I came across a very large Walmart. Most Walmarts allow travelers to park overnight in their car parks, and since this one stayed open until midnight and opened again at 6am, it would serve as a convenient restroom facility too. I knew it was taking liberties but Walmart permited it. It was in a retail park that contained the usual collection of fast food places. One of these was a Chinese eat-as-much-as-you-can restaurant, so for $6.50, I had a good feast before retiring to bed.