Staying out of
Sedona, AZ '11
Total: 289 miles
Est time: 12 hours
routes and map by Google
[ Sunday -
October 9, 2011 ]
Today's course of action is to hit Jerome, skirt Prescott (because
it's too freakin' slow to go through the city), and glide all the
way to Lake Havasu. It looks easy enough on the map.
It turns out getting to Jerome is fairly quick. It's only a
whoppin' 26 miles from Sedona. The landscape is stunning all
the way to the mountain top. Unfortunately Jerome is in full
tourist swing (It's way too busy). There are cars and Harleys
everywhere. For a once ghost town, it sure is packed with
people now. They're mining alright. Mining tourists'
wallets. It's not necessarily a bad thing.
The Major just finished with the "House of Joy".
It's a very interesting town with a very European feel.
That's probably because the original settlers were Spanish in
nature. According to Wikipedia, Jerome was part of New Spain
before the US took it over.
This picture gives you a brief idea of how busy this little town
We barely missed the play.
Once more around Jerome on foot to find a place to eat.
Actually we are just looking for a place to get coffee. We
stumble on the Flatiron Cafe. They claim to have the best
coffee in all of Arizona. Let's see how they do. The
Major ordered the salmon quesadilla and I ordered the apple wood
smoked BLT. I top things off with a mocha. The coffee
arrives first and I take a sip. They're something to be said
about their claim. There is no Hershey's syrup here.
We're talking real cocoa baby! Sugar? Who need's sugar
when the coffee is this good. I take it straight. Just
the coffee and cocoa. Putting sugar into this cup of heaven is
sacrilegious. The BLT arrives and it is a perfect match for
the mocha. So far the Flatiron Cafe is the top eatery for this
trip. Surpassing the Mesa Grill by several notches. I
was so happy with the mean that I told the waiter I was going to
write about this. Here it is... Hands down the Flatiron
Cafe is worth every penny and the service is very pleasant.
There are no visible restaurant rating sign, but in my book it's a
5/5. I'll be more than happy to eat here the next time I'm
passing through Jerome.
Through the gaggles of people, we slowly motor our way through
Jerome to take the rest of the 89A to get to Prescott. Once
again, this is the first time we're doing this in sun light.
I'm sure the view is going to be breath taking.
We stick to the 89A until the very end where it changes into Pioneer
Pkwy, cut over to Williamson Valley road, right turn on Iron Springs
road through Skull Valley, and taking Kirkland road to eventually
hit the familiar 89 Hwy again. Maybe we should have taken
Bagdad road instead. Next time. This route is nice as it
skirts Prescott and allows us to see more of the land and less of
the cars. A quickYarnel break.
The Major is advertising a product again.
We fuel in Congress and take the 93 Hwy through Nothing. Man
the Arizonians drive fast. Even at the higher rpm, one of the
cars is still managing to examine the reflective specks in our
license plates. Maybe he's near sighted or something.
After a bunch of construction on the north end of the 93, we finally
hit the I40 to head towards Lake Havasu. For going against the
wind, the 8GS is doing extremely well today in terms of fuel
economy. It's probably because we're no longer climbing
towards Flagstaff. We detour a bit searching for a
non-existent Starbucks in Kingman. Darn, we're burning the
remaining daylight wandering around looking for coffee. I was
hoping to get to Lake Havasu in the day light. Sure I have a
bunch of lights on the bike, but I still rather not travel in the
dark at 75 MPH. Who knows what's going to jump in front of me
and I'll be the first one to eat it.
Because we're failing miserably in trying to find this vanishing act
of a Starbucks, I offer to make coffee for the Major using some of
the instant coffee that I have. I wander into a local pizza
parlor (carrying my thermos bottle) asking for some hot water.
They said, "We don't have any hot water. Try the Mexican place
next door." Alright... I walk the 50 yards and enter a Mexican
fast food restaurant. I asked them for some hot water and they
stare back like two deers in the headlights. Not a good
sign. After stumbling with English (that really should be the
first language for anybody who lives in the States) it looks like
they finally understand what I'm askin for... I think. I
tip them a couple of bucks but I have a sinking feeling I was
talking to a wall. Sure enough, they gave warm water from the
tap. Arg!!! The frustration continues. In the end
the Major settled for a cigarette break without coffee. We
pack up and left, but we've lost at least 45 minutes of remaining
day light. Ugh... It was only 60+ miles to Lake
Havasu. We would have been there already.
Once again I gauge the fuel on the 8GS and make sure I make it
without needing to stop and fuel. By the time we get off the
I40 taking the junction to the 95, there's only 19 miles left.
This is good. The computer shows I have 46 miles of fuel left.
I should be able to make it to the motel without any problems.
It's pitch black but the road is well reflected. Motel 6 it
is. I walk into the lobby and check in. The clerk tells
me that I have no reservation here. Huh? I know I called
the Motel at lake side at least 2 weeks ago. Once again I'm
confronted with a foreigner that doesn't have command of the English
language. I myself was, at one point, a foreigner, but I
adapted and learned enough of the English language and American
culture to at least be able to converse. In this case, not
only is the clerk having an issue with the English language, she
also has a pompous attitude. Instead of assisting me with the
missing reservation, she keeps on insisting that she's right and
that I'm wrong. That I booked a room at the other Motel 6 in
Lake Havasu. Who freakin' cares! Do you want my money or
not? By this time my fuse was short and I exploded on
her. I was ready to walk out the door and book at a different
motel establishment when she finally came around, apologized, and
decided to help. Geez!!! Just because you're rich in
your native country and manage to drag your carcass over here for
more financial opportunities, that doesn't give you the right to be
such an ass. In the end she contacted the other Motel 6 and
straighten out the reservation issue. Now why couldn't she be
helpful like this in the first place? Then this back and forth
bit wouldn't have happened. Was this trip really
necessary? Suffice to say, I felt a little bad after I calming
myself down. I apologized but again the language barrier
appears to be getting in the way.
Twice today. It's frustrating to say the least. One
thing is for sure though, I'm not going to stay at either Motel 6 in
Lake Havasu in the future.
While pulling into the drive way of the motel earlier, the low fuel
indicator light came on. Nuts! Well, let's get this
thing fueled tonight so I don't have to worry about it tomorrow
morning. I head out while the Major stays at the motel.
I pull into a Texaco station and find that it's shutdown for the
night. Wow! What's this? It's only 10 at
night. If a gas station closes this early in the night, I can
only imagine what the shops are like in this town. I guess I'm
use to the L.A. lifestyle where you can get fuel almost 24 hours a
day. Beaten down once more. I head back to the motel for
This definitely making me think twice about Arizona as a possible
retirement location when the time comes. This in combination
with Sedona speaks to mean plenty. I guess I do like the
convenience of the big city life after all. Also, all this
hassle with the motel bit makes me want to go camp out again.
Nothing like pitching your accommodations and having a room all to
yourself wherever you go.
Day 1 - The marathon.
Day 2 - Finally!
Day 4 - Still windy as heck.
Written on: October 20, 2011
Last modified: October 30, 2011