When I hear of Route 66, I have visions of roadside café’s, repair shops, and Art Deco and Art Moderne installations. I think of families making long summer drives to the coast, stopping off for a hamburger while their car is serviced for the next leg of a 2 of 3 day drive. Interstates, air travel, and modern auto-technology has consigned those images to the past. However, relics remain everywhere. In my experience, the biggest variety of those monuments to the post-WWII period of escapism are in Arizona. From the the famous Winslow (made famous by the Eagles) and its temperate landscape, to the downright desert and arid scenes west of Kingman. It is all here in Arizona, and it has been a joy to trace this route on various trips.
