Just some silly video of Olivia and I playing miniature golf in a KOA in Kingman, Arizona.

I wouldn’t be afraid to recommend either both the Kingman KOA and Lotta Lou’s Cafe for a little breakfast and interesting / hilarious / odd conversation with the woman who works there.

1. Melted Handlebar Grips. Much thanks to the sun for boiling down on my bike’s grips so valiantly that it literally melted them onto my hands.
2. Woody’s Gas Station. Upon walking in, and me in my straw cowboy hat, an arrow head necklace and nearly completely unbuttoned, button up shortsleeve, the attendant calls out “Howdy partner.” I could sense the snide tone to his voice and his friend’s smirk indicated they were likely having a laugh at my own good expense before I came in. I countered with long slow drawl added to my voice, “Pack of Blue Spirits,” which roughly translates to “Can I buy a pack of American Spirit Regulars?” I think he then realized how serious this conversation had become, because he got them without delay and somehow sussed out that I was from Pittsburgh. He claimed to have lived there himself in the past and made some remark akin to “Yeah, the weather’s a helluva lot better up there.” To which I replied, of course, “Yeah, and so is the football.”
3. Natural Planet Health Food Store. My next — and what was to be my final — stop was this store with a name that clearly indicated it would sell healthy food. Upon entering I discovered shelf after rows of shelves full of vitamins and supplements, and a small stand selling granola. When I asked her if she had fresh fish, commonly thought of as “health food”, she looked at me as though I was crazy. In what kind of world do people think that taking supplements and vitamins can be considered eating healthy food?
4. Safeway. I was only introduced to Safeway a few months ago, but it’s nearly on par with Whole Foods, even though it’s basically just your average super market chain. Two great pieces of life happened here:
   • Bike Lock. I placed my key into the lock to attempt to lock my bike up and, somehow, beyond the explanations of man and gods, the key literally melted into the lock. Irremovable. Excaliburred into the lock for all time, perhaps?
   • Crocodile Dundee. The fishmonger/butcher, maybe 25 years old or so, was incredibly social and talked to me non-stop about the great boneless pork chops he’d just cut up (and how they barely had any bones even left in them, each one about 3 inches thick) and various hamburger specials. I just wanted the tuna. When he saw my attention drifting he finally handed me the two tuna steaks, but not before one last remark. “Are you from Australia? Your outfit looks like those Australian guys I’m always seeing.”

What a great ride.

If you’re looking for a place to stay in Kingman and you have a car, this is probably a good choice, though hotels in the area (it’s part of the whole Historic Route 66 thing) can be found for much cheaper, sometimes as low as $20 / night.

More information on some of our experiences at this KOA can be found here.

As we parked the RV, a middle aged man in an Arizona Cardinals hat and sporting Olympic style calves was riding his bike uphill and under this desert blaze, in full bicycle glory. When we finally got into Lou’s, he was already seated and enjoying an iced tea (served out of a Mason jar, no less), watching infomercials on a TV older than Olivia. A much older man sat at the table across from him, shorts and socks pulled up to his knees, his gobbler of a neck hanging down to his striped blue and white polo shirt, hunch backed and coke bottles for glasses, reading the weekend paper.

60 year old Coca Cola and train memorabilia, a juke box that could outwit the Fonz, and two veggie omelettes would get us through the morning, before it came time to explore this rusty old village.

And I can’t handle chains. Whether it’s Walmart thinning out the mom and pops or McDonalds fattening up the mom and kids, they represent the antithesis of what travel is all about to me: experiencing life. Why go to Belize and then order a Big Mac? Why drive to Vegas only to visit the world’s largest Hard Rock Cafe? Why…etc.?

As of late, however, I’ve been changing my mind on the KOA. The one in Las Vegas, next to Circus Circus Casino, is possibly the cheapest place you can stay in that city and be within half a block of the Strip. Tonight we’re staying at the KOA in Kingman, AZ. It wasn’t the cheapest place to stay (Kingman has reclaimed it’s section of Historic Route 66, and sleezy motels — perfect for rugged traveling lovers like ourselves — abound for $20 a night), but for the extra $10 we spent to stay here we get reliable Internet access, a few trees above our head (no small feat considering we’re in the middle of what is possible America’s cruelest desert), a miniature golf course (and I’m a pro, of course), and even a swimming pool (fifteen minutes in and Olivia is already scantily clad and ready for a dip). The staff is typically no less than exuberant on a bad day, down right annoyingly pleasant on a good day, and how can you go wrong with a daily ice cream social?

Perhaps it’s because I’m 30 and this is the first step to me first becoming a Republican, then a bastard Republican, then a greeter at Walmart, but gosh darnit, I’ll KOA again, I tell you!