From Globe, we continued our northerly trek. I’d decided I just didn’t want to face Phoenix if I could avoid it, so we were in the process of giving that riding nightmare a very wide birth… Going pretty far out of the way and into colder temps and higher altitudes, but assuring a superior ride as compensation… A worthwhile bargain, I’d thought… provided we encountered no frozen precip on the roadway…

North to Payson for a stop and fuel-up, then north again through Strawberry heading for Cottonwood, then onward to Prescott… that was the ‘plan’… we didn’t make it. Nope, we did stop in Payson, and we did take the road north towards the cutoff that would have taken us to Cottonwood… However, going straight would take us to Winslow.

Coincidentally, just the evening before, I’d been talking with Napper on the phone, and she just happened to mention that she needed another Tee shirt from the famous ‘corner’… if I happened to be in the neighborhood. She then went on to tell me that the last one I’d brought her from there had become her favorite… but, it was getting a bit long in the tooth now…

She professed not to want me to go out of the way or make a big deal of it; but, if I happened by… I knew, of course, as any relationship experienced man naturally would, exactly what that meant… I was confident ALI and my Gerbings were up to the challenge… What remained was to find out if the rider was too…

We rode on straight and made it to Winslow… I’d had no plans to actually go another 130 miles out of the way, especially since it would be due north in the dead of winter, but when I saw the sign… you know… what else could I do? It was only 65 miles further, and there could be a big payoff later…

It was cold going over the ‘hump’, with lots of snow up top… and my Gerbings were fully employed once again. There are no ‘facilities’ for about fifty miles, so… My advice is if you are in that area anytime soon, don’t eat the yellow snow!

I kept a careful eye out for any ice on the road, but there was none at all. The road itself was dry for the most part, so we just had a great ride up and over, then down the other side… The last thirty miles or so is flat, long and straight… Oh well, the things we do for the women in our lives… right?

It was mid-afternoon when we arrived, made our purchase, and confronted the next choice-point… Stay there or head for Cottonwood and hope we could make it before dark… I was leaning hard towards staying there… The nice ladies in the gift shop at ‘the corner’ recommended a motel that was owned by friends of theirs’, and that settled it… I got a room.

I was told by the motel owner of a couple of good restaurants and the only remaining true pub. I dined on quite good Mexican fare, then found PT’s… Met some certifiable characters for sure in there, had a rather interesting evening, and I stayed a bit longer than I’d figured on…

I chatted with several folks, all of whom were locals, but all of whom had come to this place from somewhere else. I saw nothing that would incline me to want to relocate there… well, except for those characters! Nice folks, very friendly, welcoming, and seemingly good folks. They sure treated this stranger in their midst well!

With all due caution, I scrupulously avoided any dancing! I think I’ve learned my lesson… at least for a while. It also appears the brew offered in that establishment came from a batch that had nothing but wholesome ingredients, too… a refreshing change for sure!

Upon my return to the motel, I tried to log-in via Wi-Fi, but nothing doing… Oh well, one night without it won’t hurt. Besides, I could actually use a little rest, so I’d be turning in early anyway. Tomorrow will be a big day, so rest and a good night’s sleep would serve me well… Now I’m really, really glad I didn’t get drug out onto the hardwood under the light of a neon moon…!

The next morning, I stepped outside for my initial look-see… Brrrrr! I went back inside and checked the local conditions… 23*F with a ‘feels like’ in the teens… OK, so maybe I won’t be heading out super early. I stepped back out again, and there the owner was… He offered coffee!

My host was an older guy about my vintage… Originally from San Jose, CA, he’d wound up in Winslow after having tried his luck in Wichita, KS… he had no plans for retirement. Funny how full retirement just isn’t for everyone.

Some, like yours truly, take to it right off and flourish with all the new-found opportunities. Others, like this guy and many others I’ve met, seem to need what ‘work’ offers: Predictability, routine, productive activity, visible, meaningful, immediate feedback, and most of all a sense of purpose… a reason to get up each morning and get going. In fact, nobody I met there was retired, even the 86-year-old lady, originally from Wisconsin, who waited on me at the restaurant!

The motel owner was a real talker! I finally decided he was just a lonely old man even though he and his wife ran this place together. He just wanted to talk… and talk. I thought about how that seemed to be the common thread around there…

Refugees who had wound-up there, found what they were looking for through the friendships they’d made with kindred spirits, and a fullness to life that had eluded them elsewhere…  I’m mighty glad I stayed there after all… And, thanks, Napper, it wouldn’t have happened without your ‘suggestion’… You just never, ever know where adventure will find you… or you will find it…