The last part of Route 66 was a long-ass (and slow) drive from Albuquerque to Santa Monica. In the summer. It was about a million degrees everywhere we went, except for Flagstaff. It was a delightful 35 degrees the morning we were there, which was a fine way to wake up – all that cool mountain air coming through the open window of our room.

To celebrate the coolness, I wandered around downtown for a while.

And then got in the car and headed out. The stop that night was in Needles, California, which just SOUNDS like it’s hot. (And if you call 113 degrees hot, then yes: it was indeed hot there.)

back of Hotel Monte Vista
Route 66 – Flagstaff, Arizona
photographed 5.31.2023