Staying out of Prescott.
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 is.

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 the night.

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