Kingman, AZ


A ’96 Dutchmen with a propensity to overheat combined with 113 degree temperatures over Las Vegas forced us to leave camp at the KOA Circus Circus at 4:30 this morning. We made it a good 90 miles, choosing to go around the hell that is trying to climb the Hoover Dam by heading south on 95 vs. taking the more directly sinister route of 93, and by the time we’d crossed the Colorado and were in Lake Mead territory, the Dutchess had been boiled enough and badly needed a break. We only need to make about 150 miles per day, not including today, so all was well and good as we pulled into the first available dirt lot in Kingman, Arizona for a much needed breakfast. By 8:15am it was already nearing 90 degrees and Lotta Lou’s Breakfast and Lunch (CASH ONLY!) was looking mighty tempting.

As we parked the RV, a middle aged man in an Arizona Cardinals hat and sporting Olympic style calves was riding his bike uphill and under this desert blaze, in full bicycle glory. When we finally got into Lou’s, he was already seated and enjoying an iced tea (served out of a Mason jar, no less), watching infomercials on a TV older than I am. A much older man sat at the table across from him, shorts and socks pulled up to his knees, his gobbler of a neck hanging down to his striped blue and white polo shirt, hunch backed and coke bottles for glasses, reading the weekend paper.

60 year old Coca Cola and train memorabilia, a juke box that could outwit the Fonz, and two veggie omelettes would get us through the morning, before it came time to explore this rusty old village.