Silver City in the Sweet Spot
Silver City in the Sweet Spot
An optimum point or combination of factors or qualities. The Sweet Spot.
Fifty to seventy miles per hour. On the two lane. That's Bonnie's sweet spot, where everything is right with the world. Fast enough to prevent narcolepsy. Slow enough to enjoy the scenery. A pleasant burble in your wake; clean, quiet air on your helmet. Off the interstate and through the small towns, she's a true time machine. Simpler. Easier. Younger. Sweeter.
When I swing a leg over the BMW, alone or with Krisanne, it feels like I have to cross multiple state lines and at least one time zone to make mounting up worthwhile. On the Ducati, anything less than 20 over seems achingly slow; even unfaired, 90 is a lope. Not that any of this is bad; it's great to have choices to suit both mood and purpose.
Bonnie, though, has that backroad sweet spot nailed, a grin-inducing combination of "just enough" -- power, comfort, handling -- along with an over-abundance of classic good looks, waiting to be parked and photographed. Making memories.
Silver City, New Mexico is the destination. The hub for a two night stay: the Palace Hotel. Small and historic on downtown Main Street, the building dates back to 1882. The hotel itself first opened in 1900, boasting such modern conveniences as bathrooms, closets and electric lights. The route also a combination of old and new, always with the sweet spot in focus.
A blessedly short highway stint puts me on Route 83 south, one of the more scenic roads in Arizona, and one I know well. The area was, unfortunately, hit by a large wildfire this past spring, started by an idiot shooting at exploding targets in the middle of a desert drought. 45,000 acres burned. A few short months later, graced by the monsoon rains, at least the grass is coming back.
Sonoita is wine country, and also the home of a new brewery, slated to open later this year. Not stopping today, I turn east toward Tombstone, the town too tough to die.
If you've not been, Tombstone is a bit of a tourist trap, with mock gunfights and folks walking around in period dress. The town has been known to take on a more realistic flare when, occasionally, they use live ammo, presumably by mistake. Oops.
On to Bisbee. I love Bisbee, the town clings to Mule Mountain, refusing to slide into oblivion. This mining town has transformed itself into a funky, colorful artists' community with several good restaurants.
Bisbee's raison d'être, the Copper Queen Mine.
Right next to the mine is Lowell, a step back in time.
On to Jimmy's, where breakfast is served out of a vintage Airstream.
While I'm waiting for my Jimmy McMuffin, I'm looking for an open wifi network because cell service is spotty. In the "isn't it ironic" category, this is what I see:
Apparently, not just the criminals are stupid...
On to Douglas, right on the border.
Age before beauty; Old Mexico before...
...New Mexico...
Crossing back, briefly, into Arizona to check out Portal.
The band shell, for a rockin' Saturday night...
Why is it always a Shell station??????
Through Lordsburg and over the Continental Divide takes me into Silver City, gaining elevation the whole time.
Checking into the Palace, I notice this, more later:
The best way to describe the Palace Hotel is "shabby chic," it is a funky little place that you forgive it's sins because it has so much character.
All checked in, time to explore on foot.
A flood ran through the town on July 21, 1895, creating The Big Ditch, which was 55 feet lower than Main Street at the time. Now, it's a park and walking path.
Some Silver City murals, all on or off Main Street:
Friday's route:
Saturday is "loop day," east to Hillsboro, then south, west and back north through the City of Rocks.
Heading east on Route 152 takes you up and over Emory Pass, a stunning, twisty, fun ride with beautiful views and turns that demand your attention.
The top of Emory Pass
Some low cost advice, available road side in Hillsboro
The Hillsboro Cafe
Green energy
The City of Rocks, a truly bizarre sight!!
Silver City's really big ditch
Got back early enough to catch the end of a car show, just a stroll up the street from the Palace. Some interesting stuff, mostly American iron, many quite well done.
The folks that own this pick up were staying at the Palace, and I got to chat with them Sunday morning at breakfast. He found this truck, unrestored, in Lake Havasu about 6 years ago. In the restoration process, he started sanding down the paint and noticed the door logo starting to "ghost" as he sanded. Instead of eliminating it, he carefully sanded down the covering paint to reveal what was left of the logo.
Inside a hood latch
The Cheetah
Mmmmmmm...tasty....
For Krisanne
The loop route
Sunday dawned pretty wet, but not the torrential downpours predicted on Saturday. A steady rain, pleasant really, for about the first 100 miles over Mule Creek and into Safford. No electronics, just ear plugs, the rain patter, exhaust thrum, and my own thoughts. Scary.
The remnants of the Frey Fire, which almost took out the Pope Scope, right at the top. An observatory controlled by the Vatican.
A quick ice cream stop in Willcox, self proclaimed Cattle Capital of the World and home of the Cowboy Hall of Fame (you knew that, right?). The mural is on the side of the building.
The route home
A short ride home takes me to the last photo op, right down the street. What is it about British vehicles that makes them so much fun? Whether it was my MGB, Triumph Spitfire, Bonnie or Nigel, our current Land Rover, all have a character to them...miles and smiles, smiles and miles.
"Hello, hello. Can Nigel come out to play?"
An optimum point or combination of factors or qualities. The Sweet Spot.
Fifty to seventy miles per hour. On the two lane. That's Bonnie's sweet spot, where everything is right with the world. Fast enough to prevent narcolepsy. Slow enough to enjoy the scenery. A pleasant burble in your wake; clean, quiet air on your helmet. Off the interstate and through the small towns, she's a true time machine. Simpler. Easier. Younger. Sweeter.
When I swing a leg over the BMW, alone or with Krisanne, it feels like I have to cross multiple state lines and at least one time zone to make mounting up worthwhile. On the Ducati, anything less than 20 over seems achingly slow; even unfaired, 90 is a lope. Not that any of this is bad; it's great to have choices to suit both mood and purpose.
Bonnie, though, has that backroad sweet spot nailed, a grin-inducing combination of "just enough" -- power, comfort, handling -- along with an over-abundance of classic good looks, waiting to be parked and photographed. Making memories.
Silver City, New Mexico is the destination. The hub for a two night stay: the Palace Hotel. Small and historic on downtown Main Street, the building dates back to 1882. The hotel itself first opened in 1900, boasting such modern conveniences as bathrooms, closets and electric lights. The route also a combination of old and new, always with the sweet spot in focus.
A blessedly short highway stint puts me on Route 83 south, one of the more scenic roads in Arizona, and one I know well. The area was, unfortunately, hit by a large wildfire this past spring, started by an idiot shooting at exploding targets in the middle of a desert drought. 45,000 acres burned. A few short months later, graced by the monsoon rains, at least the grass is coming back.
Sonoita is wine country, and also the home of a new brewery, slated to open later this year. Not stopping today, I turn east toward Tombstone, the town too tough to die.
If you've not been, Tombstone is a bit of a tourist trap, with mock gunfights and folks walking around in period dress. The town has been known to take on a more realistic flare when, occasionally, they use live ammo, presumably by mistake. Oops.
On to Bisbee. I love Bisbee, the town clings to Mule Mountain, refusing to slide into oblivion. This mining town has transformed itself into a funky, colorful artists' community with several good restaurants.
Bisbee's raison d'être, the Copper Queen Mine.
Right next to the mine is Lowell, a step back in time.
On to Jimmy's, where breakfast is served out of a vintage Airstream.
While I'm waiting for my Jimmy McMuffin, I'm looking for an open wifi network because cell service is spotty. In the "isn't it ironic" category, this is what I see:
Apparently, not just the criminals are stupid...
On to Douglas, right on the border.
Age before beauty; Old Mexico before...
...New Mexico...
Crossing back, briefly, into Arizona to check out Portal.
The band shell, for a rockin' Saturday night...
Why is it always a Shell station??????
Through Lordsburg and over the Continental Divide takes me into Silver City, gaining elevation the whole time.
Checking into the Palace, I notice this, more later:
The best way to describe the Palace Hotel is "shabby chic," it is a funky little place that you forgive it's sins because it has so much character.
All checked in, time to explore on foot.
A flood ran through the town on July 21, 1895, creating The Big Ditch, which was 55 feet lower than Main Street at the time. Now, it's a park and walking path.
Some Silver City murals, all on or off Main Street:
Friday's route:
Saturday is "loop day," east to Hillsboro, then south, west and back north through the City of Rocks.
Heading east on Route 152 takes you up and over Emory Pass, a stunning, twisty, fun ride with beautiful views and turns that demand your attention.
The top of Emory Pass
Some low cost advice, available road side in Hillsboro
The Hillsboro Cafe
Green energy
The City of Rocks, a truly bizarre sight!!
Silver City's really big ditch
Got back early enough to catch the end of a car show, just a stroll up the street from the Palace. Some interesting stuff, mostly American iron, many quite well done.
The folks that own this pick up were staying at the Palace, and I got to chat with them Sunday morning at breakfast. He found this truck, unrestored, in Lake Havasu about 6 years ago. In the restoration process, he started sanding down the paint and noticed the door logo starting to "ghost" as he sanded. Instead of eliminating it, he carefully sanded down the covering paint to reveal what was left of the logo.
Inside a hood latch
The Cheetah
Mmmmmmm...tasty....
For Krisanne
The loop route
Sunday dawned pretty wet, but not the torrential downpours predicted on Saturday. A steady rain, pleasant really, for about the first 100 miles over Mule Creek and into Safford. No electronics, just ear plugs, the rain patter, exhaust thrum, and my own thoughts. Scary.
The remnants of the Frey Fire, which almost took out the Pope Scope, right at the top. An observatory controlled by the Vatican.
A quick ice cream stop in Willcox, self proclaimed Cattle Capital of the World and home of the Cowboy Hall of Fame (you knew that, right?). The mural is on the side of the building.
The route home
A short ride home takes me to the last photo op, right down the street. What is it about British vehicles that makes them so much fun? Whether it was my MGB, Triumph Spitfire, Bonnie or Nigel, our current Land Rover, all have a character to them...miles and smiles, smiles and miles.
"Hello, hello. Can Nigel come out to play?"
