Leaving Kingman Arizona on old 66 you soon get the feeling that you’re headed for a different place, a different time... As you climb into the mountains southwest of Kingman the markers that date your time of travel slip away leading you into a time and terrain that match the picture of the old west you hold in your mind from the very first western movie you saw as a kid. As the flat land that was The Golden Valley slips behind you, the old west reveals itself before your eyes. With each turn of the road you travel further from the "beaten path", closer to a place you thought only existed in one of those silly old westerns. Right about now is a spot on the road that veers to the right, don't miss it, it’s a faint dirt trail that appears to lead into the sky, don't fret partner, it leads to a personal spot. As you stand and look from your point of vantage you can't help but live the years that have been seen from this precarious perch. As you look to the south a long draw bisects the mountains before you, As your eyes traverse downwards you see the end result of earlier travelers that failed to navigate the hairpin switchbacks of old 66 (now called county Hwy 10) from wooden buggies to modern day automobile, they tell the tale of time. Returning to your car you feel comfortable in the humbleness brought to you by the panorama before you. Back on the paved road heading into Oatman, you pass a working (tourist) goldmine. Now you’re almost there, around the next bend in the road you see the beginnings of a town, a town forever froze in time. This is where the spirit of what I think Oatman is about shows you itself. As you attempt to enter town, on most days, one or more of the locals a surly there to meet you. Don’t be put off by their big heads entering your car window; they are stuck with that silly mug. Whatever you do, never, I repeat never, feed one of the locals a chocolate covered doughnut. But if you feel you must, by all means, do. Just prepare yourself for a long wait before they decide to move that big mug out of your car. And no amount of yelling and screaming is going to persuade your new found friend to vacate your car. You see these particular locals have ruled this here spot for longer than anyone living. In fact their blood line goes back to the days Gold was first discovered in Oatman in 1902 by a man named Ben Taddock who, while riding along the trail on his trusty old burrow, saw free gold glittering on the ground and... No, the residents you meet in your car window aren’t related to Ben, more like his donkey companion. That’s right, the stars of the show in Oatman Arizona are the free ranging wild burros that will just as soon pester you for a treat from your car, as sit in the bar and stare at you while having a cold one. Welcome to Oatman, oh yeah, there some tourist stuff to see if you’re in a mind to.
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