Roadtrip Kitsch #SOLSC24 18/31

“With a nearly desperate sense of isolation and a growing suspicion that I lived in an alien land, I took to the road in search of places where change did not mean ruin and where time and men and deeds connected.” —William Least Heat-Moon, Blue Highways

My husband calls me his travel agent, and generally he’s agreeable to my travel whims.

Headed toward Oatman

That’s why he found himself headed to Lake Havasu City, Arizona Sunday to see the London Bridge, despite having been in London, England last August.

It never occurred to me that he didn’t already know London Bridge isn’t in London, not the one sold to a visionary millionaire who flew over Lake Havasu and thought it would be a good place for people to live, so in 1668 he purchased the old London Bridge and moved it to Arizona.

No palm trees in London.

When Ken asked why the bridge we saw Sunday is called London Bridge, I shared my limited knowledge and told him I thought the bridge had been shipped via the Panama Canal, a fact we confirmed at the Visitor’s Center, which specializes in *London* themed souvenirs.

Before arriving in Lake Havasu City, we navigated a *traffic* jam caused by burros roaming free in Oatman, a *ghost* town on old Route 66.

He has the right of way!

During our travels I think it’s important to provide some financial support to local businesses, which is why I’m now the proud owner of a pink Route 66 ball cap.

Ken in the Oatman Saloon.

However, in Oatman we saw lots of MAGA crap. I don’t want to support businesses that deal in election-denier merchandise. Still, my travel compass is stronger than my tendency to stereotype, so I have a pink hat. Did I mention it has sparkles?

Selfie with a burrow.

We left Oatman and headed to the Topock Maze, an ancient Native American site.

Gazing at the rivulets in the horizon I couldn’t help but think about how much of this sacred site was destroyed during the construction of I-40.

As we drove south we discovered a lovely preserve where the Colorado River converges with the Johnson River. We stopped for a stroll.

Marshes formed by the convergence of two rivers.

There’s a lovely path filled with spring blooms.

We ventured down the road to Parker dam where a guard cautioned us to watch for donkeys on the road. They’re everywhere.

Parker Dam

We heeded his warning as we drove on toward Parker. Indeed, we did see more pointy-eared critters in the road and on the side of the road.

The three meanderers.

What you’ve done becomes the judge of what you’re going to do – especially in other people’s minds. When you’re traveling, you are what you are right there and then. People don’t have your past to hold against you. No yesterdays on the road.

William Least Heat-Moon, Blue Highways