Road trip!

When all else fails, it’s time for a road trip. And, for that, there’s nowhere better than the great American West, where Route 66 is a living link to legendary days.
Ah yes, boots and jeans, old cafes and dusty roads. Ghosts towns, long dead; and ghost towns, recently revived. That’s for me.

And, apparently, it’s for a lot of people, including, from what I saw, vacationing Americans, motorcycling Canadians, busloads of German tourists, and more buses of Chinese tourists.

Our road trip spanned northern Arizona. We just wanted to steer around on a whim, so we didn’t research any cities, hotels, restaurants, or, well, anything else in advance. And, in fact, we wound up wandering pretty far from Route 66. As for lodging, we stayed at some big-name chain hotels and at a little independent one.

As for brands, well, it’s easy to see why brands are such a big draw in hotels. A known brand conveys a level of quality that you can trust without having to launch a minor investigation every time you need a place to sleep. And hotels are, indeed, the big thing when traveling. After all, if a restaurant is a bit hinky you can just walk out of the place, but hotels aren’t so easy.

So it’s no surprise to me that respected brands of business hotels seem to be getting a crossover from leisure travelers, since people who have traveled for business have cultivated a trust in various names.

A popular segment of the market is midlevel hotels that don’t have restaurants, but which offer a little bit of breakfast and, of course, a lot of hot coffee. In such hotels it’s common to see a mixture of road warriors in suits and families in jeans.

As for Route 66, it’s a part of American lore. Opened in 1926, it was the main route from Chicago to Los Angeles before the Interstate system came along in the 1950s. So its heyday spanned the Depression to the post-WWII era, which saw a lot of American migration to the west, especially to California.

Much of the kitsch in the souvenir shops highlights the post-WWII golden age. There’s a lot of kitschy crossover into classic American icons such as Marilyn Monroe and Humphrey Bogart. I don’t know whether or not Monroe or Bogart had any actual association or history with Route 66, but, well, they’re sure associated with it now thanks to the souvenir industry.

Though most of Route 66 was blotted out by the giant slaps of Interstate concrete, some surviving segments have been maintained, while other parts have withered.

As for northern Arizona, the Grand Canyon is a big draw, which is no surprise. It’s a few hours by car from Las Vegas, and Vegas is the ideal entry point for anyone flying to the states to take a road trip in the legendary West. You can fly to Vegas, rent a car, and keep yourself busy for anywhere from three days to three weeks, depending on how long your money holds out.

And then you can go back home via Vegas, after hitting the town for one last cocktail with Elvis. What better way to end a road trip?

Or maybe you’ll stay: I know people who have moved from Saipan to all sorts of places in the wide-open West, including northern Arizona, Nevada, Idaho, and Montana.

Northern Arizona’s scenery is desert, though some areas have pine trees, and it’s mountainous territory. Many towns are 5,000 feet above sea level. We drove over one mountain pass at 8,046 feet and went walking around up there for awhile. The oxygen isn’t as juicy up there as it is at sea level, so if I lived up there I’d take up smoking just to get some traction in my lungs.

There are some prosperous enclaves in northern Arizona, such as Sedona, which feels like a slice of Beverly Hills dropped into high desert.

Mines (copper and gold, notably) played a big part in the region’s history. Some old structures in mining towns have been gentrified into little hotels. One such place is called the Connor Hotel (Jerome, Ariz.; population, 440), which has a dozen rooms and plenty of cozy charm.

We saw a lot of cool stuff on our trip, but Jerome was the highlight. It has some really wacky history, as befits an old mining boom town. It’s a remote little place, clinging precariously to the side of a mountain, but sure pulls in the tourists, including yours truly.

Now if you’ll excuse me it’s time for a cocktail; Elvis is singing karaoke, and I think I see Marilyn Monroe in the corner.

Visit Ed Stephens Jr. at EdStephensJr.com. His column runs every Friday.