Kingman, AZ

Oct. 24, 2002

Shortly after crossing Holy Moses Wash, Interstate 40 veered toward the left and began to climb, passing through rock formations on both sides of the road, a dramatic change from the flat, dry Mojave desert. I caught my breath and took a look at the Arizona landscape before me.

Three hundred twenty-five miles from Los Angeles, I pulled into Kingman, AZ, and followed signs into the historic district. Train tracks paralleled the road on my right and with them came the sound of an approaching train. It was late afternoon and the sun cast a golden glow from the west. Yet instead of the silhouettes of joshua trees from earlier in the day, long shadows fell from monuments of the early 1900s, for I’d now entered Route 66 territory. With just one easy turn off the Interstate, I’d jumped back in time many decades.

The Hotel Brunswick was easy to find, just across from the Kingston Depot, where a long string of boxcars rattled by, the clattering of wheels against the tracks mixing with a loud, repetitive whistle. I parked my car, giving it a pat on the roof for its reliable performance on the first day of my cross-country trip. Hoisting my overnight bag, camera, and laptop over my shoulder, I headed inside, where I was greeted at the front desk by the owner of the historic 1909 lodging.

Gerard Guedon adjusted his glasses and checked the computer screen, then gave me the run down on room availability, his native French accent betraying the fact that he is not originally from the Wild, Wild West. I knew I was in for an adventure when he informed me that the hotel’s larger rooms and suites were booked, but that one of the small rooms was available.  Having read about these bargain rooms online, I jumped at the chance and, taking a quick look at the room before committing, gladly booked it for the night. It was a deal I was happy to make. What I gave up in space, I gained in savings. My quaint second-floor room had a small bed, chair, writing table, air-conditioning and direct-dial phone, with a bathroom as large as the room just a few feet down the hall.  The cost?  Exactly twenty-five dollars.  File this under great budget finds.

After getting settled into my room, I strolled downstairs for something to drink. The lobby, restaurant, and bar areas were all spacious and soaked with the ambiance of the early 1900s. I watched others assemble for cocktails or dinner, tall ivory walls and green, pressed tin ceilings as background. Gerard leaned against the antique bar, sporting a white apron and greeting customers who were arriving for Saturday night dinner. No newcomer to hotel management, he has 35 years of experience in the hospitality business and had a friendly welcome waiting for each guest. Listening to conversation, I heard many hometown areas represented – Mississippi, Arkansas, Alabama, and New England among them. 

The hotel restaurant serves a wonderful prime rib buffet, but I was in search of a smaller meal.  I took a walk down the street to El Palacio Mexican Restaurant, housed in another historic building and decorated with brightly painted chairs and flowers, strands of chili, and an assortment of pottery on the walls.  Here I ordered an absolutely perfect green salad, crisp and fresh. Any worries I might have had about not eating enough were quickly extinguished as a basket of chips landed on the table, accompanied by two types of salsa and a bowl of hot bean dip. Add this to my budget finds of the day, as my bill totaled a mere two dollars and ninety-seven cents, delivered with a complimentary dessert, a warm, cinnamon-coated pastry, dipped in whipped cream.

Back at the hotel, I settled in for a sound night’s sleep and barely made it to the breakfast buffet in the morning, sliding in just after 9AM. Though other guests had already eaten, Gerard had been kind enough to hold the buffet open for my late arrival. I chose from the selection of bagels, muffins, hard-boiled eggs, cereal, juice, and coffee, then grabbed my camera and took off to explore.

As it was Sunday, many regular stores were closed, but the Powerhouse Route 66 Museum and Visitor Center was open, which gave me a chance to get an inside view of the road many call America’s most historic. Upstairs, inside this 90-year old building, I found a great exhibit on the life and photography of Carlos Elmer, whose stunning photographs of Arizona’s land and scenery have been featured in Arizona Highways. A glass cabinet held a camera, notes and other personal items that belonged to this artist, whose photographs capturing the atmosphere of the area nearly took my breath away.

I made one more stop before leaving, to take a look at Locomotive Park, where steam engine #3759 is displayed, along with a colorful red caboose. This impressive engine made frequent trips between Chicago and Los Angeles, stopping regularly at the depot just across from the Hotel Brunswick. In 1957 it was the last steam engine to make the journey to Kingman, at which time the Santa Fe Railroad made a gift of it to the city.

This was a good stop for my first night on the road, with historic accommodations at a bargain price and a glimpse into life along Route 66.