After weeks of regularly hitting 105 to 110 degrees, last night a thunderstorms rolled in and dropped our temperatures , so after breakfast, I geared up and was on the road by 8:00 am. I hadn’t really intended on heading to Prescott which is 100 miles from home, it just kinda snowballed on me. It was so nice out, I just kept going to the next town and the one after that, until I wound up in one of Arizona’s best “ old West towns”.
So here we go, first I headed for the town of Wickenburg, which I just blew past, then I turned North on Arizona State Rt. 89 and headed towards Prescott.
The first town I pass through is Congress, just a wide spot in the road.
Just past the edge of town there is a local landmark, frog rock.
The approach to Yarnell hill, I will climb more than 3,000 ft to the top and exit into the town of Yarnell.
Yarnell Hill,
When I got to the town of Yarnell, I veered off of the main road and explored some local roads, this town is surrounded by huge boulders, they are everywhere, the community is very rural and rustic, people nestle their houses down in between the boulders.
Just past Yarnell, I entered Peeples Valley, ( yeah that’s the correct spelling ) This is a beautiful stretch of road, it sort of plateaus out into rolling hills and grassland, punctuated by huge old cottonwood trees. This is home to gentlemen ranchers, thoroughbred horse farms and herds of Black Angus cattle. This outfit is serious money, Hidden Springs Ranch, there’s even a YouTube video about it if you’re interested, they raise, board and train race horses, it’s a no expense spared facility.
Leaving Peeples Valley, I blow through the tiny town of Wilholt and start the ascent to Prescott. The road I’ll be riding is still part of highway 89, but it is also called White Spar Rd. This road is an absolute riot! Twenty miles of twisty mountain two lane, it’s constant left, right, up, down, hairpin turns and deep drop offs on the side of the road. It is extremely technical and demands your attention, you especially have to watch out for cars crossing the center line. On this road the elevation will reach 6500 feet before dropping down into Prescott.
For a desert dwelling city boy, pulling into a higher elevation pine forest the morning after a rain, was pure heaven. The air was crisp and clean and smelled like pine.
As soon as I pulled into Prescott, I made a beeline for the historic downtown area. Whiskey Row and the courthouse square. Prescott has so much history, it is truly one of our real old West towns, people that live here love that culture. Prescott is home to America’s oldest annual rodeo, and it is the stuff of cowboy legends.
This is Whiskey row, the saloons , hotels and ( former brothels ) date back to the 1870’s.
This is the Grand one, The Palace. The oldest saloon in the West in continuous operation, Wyatt Earp, and Doc Holliday used to drink and gamble here.
In 1900 Whiskey Row caught fire and most of the buildings were burnt out and later rebuilt. The local patrons worked together and carried the Palace’s ornate hand carved bar across the street to save it.
As I said, the locals love their Western heritage. Towns like this are magnets for colorful people.
So this has been fun but with rain clouds threatening, I gassed up my bike and burned it for home, 200 hundred miles today and I just beat a thunderstorm home.
Today was a welcome break from the heat, it felt really good to get out.
Till next time,
Bob
So here we go, first I headed for the town of Wickenburg, which I just blew past, then I turned North on Arizona State Rt. 89 and headed towards Prescott.
The first town I pass through is Congress, just a wide spot in the road.
Just past the edge of town there is a local landmark, frog rock.
The approach to Yarnell hill, I will climb more than 3,000 ft to the top and exit into the town of Yarnell.
Yarnell Hill,
When I got to the town of Yarnell, I veered off of the main road and explored some local roads, this town is surrounded by huge boulders, they are everywhere, the community is very rural and rustic, people nestle their houses down in between the boulders.
Just past Yarnell, I entered Peeples Valley, ( yeah that’s the correct spelling ) This is a beautiful stretch of road, it sort of plateaus out into rolling hills and grassland, punctuated by huge old cottonwood trees. This is home to gentlemen ranchers, thoroughbred horse farms and herds of Black Angus cattle. This outfit is serious money, Hidden Springs Ranch, there’s even a YouTube video about it if you’re interested, they raise, board and train race horses, it’s a no expense spared facility.
Leaving Peeples Valley, I blow through the tiny town of Wilholt and start the ascent to Prescott. The road I’ll be riding is still part of highway 89, but it is also called White Spar Rd. This road is an absolute riot! Twenty miles of twisty mountain two lane, it’s constant left, right, up, down, hairpin turns and deep drop offs on the side of the road. It is extremely technical and demands your attention, you especially have to watch out for cars crossing the center line. On this road the elevation will reach 6500 feet before dropping down into Prescott.
For a desert dwelling city boy, pulling into a higher elevation pine forest the morning after a rain, was pure heaven. The air was crisp and clean and smelled like pine.
As soon as I pulled into Prescott, I made a beeline for the historic downtown area. Whiskey Row and the courthouse square. Prescott has so much history, it is truly one of our real old West towns, people that live here love that culture. Prescott is home to America’s oldest annual rodeo, and it is the stuff of cowboy legends.
This is Whiskey row, the saloons , hotels and ( former brothels ) date back to the 1870’s.
This is the Grand one, The Palace. The oldest saloon in the West in continuous operation, Wyatt Earp, and Doc Holliday used to drink and gamble here.
In 1900 Whiskey Row caught fire and most of the buildings were burnt out and later rebuilt. The local patrons worked together and carried the Palace’s ornate hand carved bar across the street to save it.
As I said, the locals love their Western heritage. Towns like this are magnets for colorful people.
So this has been fun but with rain clouds threatening, I gassed up my bike and burned it for home, 200 hundred miles today and I just beat a thunderstorm home.
Today was a welcome break from the heat, it felt really good to get out.
Till next time,
Bob
