Tag 250: Seligman

I am slowly waking up. 7:30 am. Sabrina is still sleeping. Quietly, I crawl out of the tent, grab my camera, and take a morning walk. The landscape is a mix of gray desert and dry forest. I behave quietly and hope to see some animals. It is calm, peaceful. An hour has passed and I haven't discovered anything. A little frustrated, I return to the tent. Sabrina is already awake. The sun is pleasantly warm, we are relaxed. We have breakfast, pack up our camp, and drive back to the 'Grand Canyon National Park'. In the village, we treat ourselves to a warm shower and some food. Suddenly, in front of the washhouse, I discover a small group of deer, two females and two calves. Armed with my camera, I approach the massive animals. Slowly. I gain their trust and am allowed to get astonishingly close. It's a very beautiful moment. We decide to leave the 'Grand Canyon National Park' behind and move on. On the way out, I fortunately spot a male deer with a mighty antler. Hazard warning lights on, camera in hand, snapshot, and continue. After a few hours of driving, Sabrina suddenly remembers that the historic 'Route 66' runs somewhere through Arizona. So we keep an eye out for signs, and she is right. We follow the directions and suddenly find ourselves in a small village called 'Seligman'. And suddenly we were right in the middle of it. The small charming village built on nostalgia, history, souvenir shops, and lots of photo opportunities has sucked us in. We go into every store, take numerous photos, and buy some souvenirs. The sun is low, and we continue driving because we haven't found a place to sleep for the night. So we keep driving along this historic road. Green fields on the right, red rocks in the background, the silhouette of a freight train on the left, parallel to our road, moving through the green fields in the light of the setting sun. If a group of masked cowboys were to ride down from a hill and rob the train now, I wouldn't be surprised. The dark yellow sun rays shine through the dusty windshield and stand like pillars in the room. I look at Sabrina and everything slows down. It seems as if the second hand now wants to show the minutes. The special moment is interrupted by a small panicked thought from the back, pointing out that we won't find a place to sleep anymore. We keep driving and driving. It's already dark when we arrive in 'Peach Springs'. The small and only settlement in the Hualapai Indian Reservation seems nice. We park our car next to a large caravan in the marketplace in the center of the village. This is where we will spend the night. We strike up a conversation with an older couple who are staying across the street at the hotel. They recommend the good and inexpensive food at the restaurant. We take the recommendation seriously and sit down. We are almost done eating when the waiter comes to our table with a large pizza. We are confused. He explains to us, 'an older gentleman was here just now, paid your bill, and ordered a large pizza for you to take away'. We are speechless. With the large pizza in hand, we leave the restaurant and walk towards the park bench where our Samaritans are enjoying the evening. We thank them warmly and sit down with them. Both are in their early 60s and proud Americans. He, a Vietnam War veteran and weapons fanatic. She, an independent woman who became a woman during the Flower Power movement. I don't think much of patriotism, nationalism, and weapons, and we don't have much in common with them either, but somehow we have a very nice evening with interesting conversations.