I took the Old ’66 down Route 66 to Oatman. Much of the “Mother Road” has been butchered by the interstates, but this is a section well worthy of the nostalgia. It’s a great section of road ( I refrained from posting another picture of my viewpoint over the spare tire ) with the road twisting & turning, following the contours of the Earth into the Black Mountains. I had a blast.

Oatman lies in some incredibly beautiful country. The desert was greening up and the Black Mountains are an area that I need to come back to explore again. Oatman is an old mining town that had enough in 1939 to draw Carole Lombard & Clark Gable for their honeymoon, but today the wild burros are the stars. They wander about town, looking cute so that you’ll buy a bag of “Burro Food” for $1.
A pair greeted me right away, one Mother Burro & one Baby Burro. The youngster ran right up to me. At first I thought it just wanted a handout, but quickly realized that it was seeking protection from a small, screaming girl who wanted desperately to “ride the pony”. I scratched the burro behind its ear and scared the girl away with a scowl.
I wandered through town, got acquainted with the other local burros, and checked out the phenominal work done by some of the local artists. There were also the typical tourists shops, which I avoided except for buying three postcards. The townfolk were all extremely friendly, the tourists were all over the place, and I spotted two young burros with a sticker placed on their foreheads with the words: STOP Please Do Not Feed Me Anymore
I stopped to sit on a bench to write out my cards. After finishing the first, I noticed that same little girl harrassing my favorite burro. This time she was trying to punch the cute little guy in the nose! When Ma Burro placed herself in between child & burrito, the child went around Mama. At this point, I cringed… the girl went behind Ma Burro and I thought she was a goner. I guess burros do a bluff kick just like grizzlys do a bluff charge, because the little girl kept her head attached. I’m looking around for the parents, and see that the father has noticed my grimace. He tells me that “she’s fine”, and I tell him “If you’re looking to sue the town, I’ll testify against you.” At this point the father grabs his little angel and wanders away saying something under his breath that I did not quite make out.
When I had feasted on all things Oatman, I walked back down to The Rover, and heard running behind me. It was my favorite, little burro at a trot, followed by Ma Burro at a walk. The burrito stopped at the truck’s left wing. It must have known that I had one last carrot.

About icefogger

Just a basic, down to Earth, laid back type of guy here, who loves the outdoors, the indoors, jazz on the turntable, a fire in the woodstove, the northern lights blazing across the sky, and the company of good friends. View all posts by icefogger

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