Day 11 – Gallup, New Mexico to Flagstaff, Arizona (4 July)

Some days are about the riding. Others are about the places.

Today managed to deliver both.

It was also America's 250th Independence Day, and there was a real sense of celebration wherever we went. The support trailer was dressed for the occasion, Chantelle embraced the spirit with stars and stripes socks and T-shirt, and everywhere we stopped there were American flags flying proudly. It felt like a privilege to be experiencing Independence Day in the USA, on Route 66 of all places.

The photo above is another magnificent butte near the New Mexico–Arizona border.

352 km (218 miles) today 3,061 km (1,900 miles) completed

The morning followed our now familiar routine. Breakfast at 6:30, bags out at 8:15 and kickstands up at 8:30. Breakfast consisted of a breakfast burrito or… well… another breakfast burrito. Fortunately, it was a good one.

A quick fuel stop and we were on our way to the Arizona state line, barely fifteen minutes from Gallup.

Crossing into Arizona brought one of those quirky Route 66 moments. Although we'd barely moved geographically, our watches went back an hour because Arizona doesn't observe Daylight Saving Time. We'd gain another hour when we eventually reached California.

Naturally, we stopped for the obligatory group photograph beneath the "Welcome to Arizona" sign.

(I'll add the group photo once I get my hands on it.)

Our first major stop was the Painted Desert and Petrified Forest National Park.

Steve's instructions were simple. We had ninety minutes to explore at our own pace before regrouping at the Rainbow Forest Visitor Centre. The only rule was obey the park's 45 mph speed limit because the rangers regularly patrol with radar.

Tiponi Point immediately set the tone.

Layer upon layer of colourful desert stretched to the horizon. Photographs don't really capture the scale or the colours. It's one of those places you simply have to stand and absorb.

From there we wandered through the park, stopping wherever something caught our eye. Desert Inn offered another incredible viewpoint, although our hopes of finding a café were dashed. Instead, I settled for an iced coffee from the gift shop, which tasted far better than it probably should have.

Newspaper Rock was another highlight. More than 650 ancient petroglyphs have been carved into the rocks below, some dating back around 2,000 years. Standing there, you can't help wondering about the people who once lived and travelled through these landscapes.

By now the temperature had climbed beyond 30°C.

The jackets came off.

With the cruise control set to 45 mph, riding through the park in just a T-shirt became one of the most enjoyable riding experiences of the whole trip. No pressure, no traffic, just sweeping roads and breathtaking scenery unfolding around every bend.

Crystal Forest was equally fascinating.

It's almost impossible to comprehend that this barren desert was once a lush tropical forest some 225 million years ago. Petrified tree trunks still lie scattered across the landscape, frozen in time.

We arrived at Rainbow Forest Visitor Centre almost exactly on schedule. Air conditioning, cold drinks and restrooms have become almost as important as petrol stops.

Next came one of Route 66's most unusual attractions — the Wigwam Motel in Holbrook.

You really can spend the night inside concrete wigwams complete with modern comforts, while outside sits a collection of wonderfully weathered classic American cars.

Graham summed it up perfectly when he described it as "cultural misappropriation", and he probably wasn't wrong. But tourism is what keeps Route 66 alive today, and everyone along the route seems happy to celebrate its colourful history.

Leaving Holbrook, Arizona changed character once again.

The roads became impossibly straight, stretching to the horizon like someone had drawn them with a ruler. Low desert scrub covered the landscape, broken only occasionally by taller bushes marking hidden water sources.

The further west we travelled, the hotter it became.

Our next stop needed no introduction.

"Standing on a corner in Winslow, Arizona..."

Whether this is the exact corner Glen Frey had in mind is almost irrelevant now. The Eagles created an icon, and Winslow has embraced it wholeheartedly.

Gift shops occupy two corners, a restaurant another, while a flatbed Ford and bronze statues complete one of the most photographed intersections on Route 66.

Being Independence Day, the place was absolutely buzzing.

Lunch involved a forty-five-minute wait, but nobody minded. The atmosphere was fantastic, with locals and visitors all celebrating together.

Another Route 66 T-shirt somehow found its way into my luggage.

Our final sightseeing stop was Meteor Crater.

Created around 50,000 years ago, the impact site is simply astonishing. Standing on the viewing platform really gives you an appreciation of the sheer force involved in creating something on this scale. We spent some time exploring the visitor centre before climbing back onto the bikes for the final ride of the day.

That final hour into Flagstaff was the hottest riding we'd experienced.

My bike's temperature gauge reached 37°C.

Then, almost without warning, everything changed again.

The desert disappeared.

Pine forests appeared.

After days of red rock, dust and endless scrubland, riding beneath tall green pines felt wonderfully refreshing. Every day on this journey seems to reveal another completely different side of America.

We rolled into Flagstaff around 4:20 pm and checked into what was easily the best hotel of the trip so far.

The outdoor pool couldn't have been more inviting.

Within minutes we were cooling off before moving into the warm spa pool, reflecting on another incredible day's riding. It was exactly what everyone needed after spending the afternoon crossing the Arizona desert.

Later that evening, Jason suggested heading to Flagstaff's Independence Day drone show.

It sounded too good to miss.

Foxglenn Park was absolutely packed. Thousands of people had gathered with picnic blankets, folding chairs and American flags. Food vendors were doing a roaring trade, although the queues were long enough to test anyone's patience, so I decided I'd survive without dinner.

When darkness finally arrived, it became obvious why Flagstaff is famous for its night skies. The nearby observatory means strict controls on light pollution, and the sky was darker than almost anywhere I'd ever seen.

At exactly 9:00 pm the drones lifted into the air.

The display was outstanding.

Beautifully choreographed, colourful and surprisingly emotional at times. If anything, I enjoyed it more than a traditional fireworks display. Given the extreme wildfire risk in this part of Arizona, drones are a brilliant alternative.

After the show we joined thousands of others making their way towards the shuttle buses. We squeezed aboard a packed university shuttle before deciding the final couple of kilometres back to the hotel were easier on foot than waiting for an Uber.

The short walk rounded off a brilliant Independence Day.

We arrived back at the hotel just before 10:30.

It had been another unforgettable day.

From ancient petrified forests and meteor impacts to Eagles songs, iconic Route 66 landmarks and an Independence Day celebration unlike anything we'd experience back home, it was another reminder that this journey is about far more than simply riding motorcycles across America.

Tomorrow, we head for Kingman.