Nowadays, Dave and I feel a constant need to escape. Somewhere—anywhere. And with CoVid in full bloom, you can bet that we won’t be going too far.
We decided to take the pups along for the ride. After all, the pandemic had also disrupted their routine of chasing squirrels and climbing mountains. We packed up with dogs in tow and headed north to the Petrified Forest National Park, located near Winslow and Holbrook—just off the famed Route 66.
Luci the co-pilot.
Our itinerary was to drive to Winslow, spend the night at La Posada Hotel, and rise early to visit the Petrified Forest. Got Masks? Check.
Just outside Phoenix, charred remains from the recent Bush Fire came into view. It was devastating to see the damage that spanned from the Four Peaks and along the Beeline Highway. A barren wasteland of incinerated vegetation and saguaros. The Bush fire is the fifth largest in Arizona history, covering 163 square miles.
Looking at Bush Highway devastation.
Just off the Beeline Highwy, on the way to Payson
We entered Rim Country—one of the most beautiful destinations in Arizona. The transition from desert to ponderosa pine never ceases to amaze us. Highway 87 continued over the rim and through the small towns of Strawberry and Pine. The pines soon gave way to Winslow—a small town nestled in the high desert.
Winslow owes it’s past to The Santa Fe Railroad. Although it started as a settlement around 1880 by a trader named Doc F.C. Demerest, the railroad terminal spurred growth. The town’s name comes from the President of the Railway, General Edward F. Winslow.
So, you ask—“Did you stand on the corner?” Take it easy; I’ll get to that later. We checked in to the historical La Posada Hotel—a cultural gem.
The view from the staircase to our room at La Posada.
La Posada Hotel (The Resting Place) was the last of the Fred Harvey resorts. Constructed in 1930 at the cost of over $1 million, it catered to railway passengers, celebrities, and post World War II leisure travelers.
By 1957, railway travel had pretty much bit the dust, and tourism dwindled. The hotel was closed, with its belongings auctioned off. By 1994, the railway planned to demolish the hotel—only to be thwarted by the hard work and efforts of the current owner, Allen Affeldt, the National Trust for Historic Preservation, and the town itself.
A mural by Tina Mion accompanied by ancestral props.
What a beautiful restoration it was. Dave and I felt like we were residing in an art gallery. The provocative work of Tina Mion embellished the walls.
After a sumptuous meal at the Turquoise room, we retrieved the well-behaved pups and headed to the corner. You know the one.
Next up, Route 66, and some petrified wood.