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ABOVE: Upstairs at the |
BILL WILLIAMS was a gruff old
There is a small town in Arizona named for Williams and it backs up to a solitary mountain that also carries his name.
Each year thousands of tourists, including many I have spoken with from the Fredericksburg area, reach the Grand Canyon via the Grand Canyon Railway, departing from Williams.
Late one afternoon last week, I watched as a flood of tired but happy sightseers--fresh from their trip to the canyon--debarked the train in Williams. And other than to grab supper at a local restaurant I wondered how many of them overlook the neat little tourist town high on Arizona's Coconino Plateau that bills itself as "Gateway to the Grand Canyon."
The town sits half a mile off Interstate 40, one of the primary east-west thoroughfares in the United States. Because it is a tourist town, Williams, population about 3,000, has a ton of places to dine and stay the night.
Unlike some other tourist towns, this one really is tourist-friendly--both in accommodations and facilities as well as the hospitality of its people. And after last week's excursion to Cave Creek, Ariz., near Phoenix, I came to appreciate another thing separating the tourist spots we like from those we leave with no regrets: I'll call it walkability, for lack of a better term.
When I visit a place and try to size it up, I'm trying to define the things that make it enjoyable. And a town--even a very small place--where I must drive because there are few safe places to walk, is a serious annoyance (to say nothing of an inconvenience).
All of this is something of an aside, a way of saying that Williams, the historic old town on fabled Route 66, is a walker's town. Park the car at the excellent visitors center on Railroad Avenue next to the train station (with its great railroad museum) and take off on foot.
It's a small enough town that even a lazy walker can manage it on foot. The two main thoroughfares are one-way, east and west. On one or the other you'll find nearly all the commercial establishments of interest.
A friend and I left my truck at the visitors center (parking limit two hours) and ventured across the street with a town map and tourist booklet. First stop was Pancho McGillicuddy's for a warm cup of homemade vegetable soup, coffee and to make a plan.
An aside: Out here in cowboy country the word "saloon" doesn't carry quite the same sleazy connotation it would back home. Here it is a more flexible term, telling you that while alcohol is served, it may also be quite a nice place for a meal. I have found this to be true over and over, in one small town after another. Rule of thumb: Poke your nose in the door and take a look, then decide.
Our plan for the day was simple. We had picked up a copy of Richard and Sherry Mangum's excellent Williams Guidebook and a free map/newsletter, "Before There Was a Town Here." With them we decided to spend the morning afoot, checking out the shops on Railroad Avenue and Route 66; in the afternoon we would take a short hike. This is, by the way, some of Arizona's finest hiking country, with dozens--perhaps more than a hundred--trails within 30-odd miles of Williams.
While the Grand Canyon is one of the world's foremost tourist attractions, and justifiably so, tourists often overlook so many other outstanding places to visit in Northern Arizona. Perhaps sometime I'll write a column citing a dozen or so of them. To cite them all would make a long list, indeed.
Our perambulations in town found the predictable sort of touristy shops with truckloads of trinkets extolling Route 66 in particular.
While a jillion towns along the old Route 66 highway tout their claim to nostalgic fame, Williams does have one particular claim: In 1966 it was the last town to be bypassed by the opening of the new interstate highway, I-40. Interest in the old Mother Road continues unabated and Williams takes full advantage of it with not only shops and souvenirs, but old car cruise days and both walking and driving tour routes along the old highway. Ask for details at the visitors center.
When we had tired of the shopping routine, we drove up Sixth Street to find Buckskinner Park and a trail of the same name. The park was closed to vehicles so we parked at Forest Service headquarters and walked in half a mile to the trailhead. This was a guarantee we would have the trail to ourselves.
No sooner had we set out from a picnic ground than we scared up the biggest gray jackrabbit I'd ever seen. That dude was as tall as my dog, Annie, and it took off into the woods like a shot.
The trail involved a gentle one-mile climb to an old spring that turned out to be bone-dry.
From that spot I fashioned a loop route along a wooded canyon wall and down to a natural gas pipeline, which we followed back into town.
It was a great hike but, if I had it to do over, I would have allowed three more hours and taken the strenuous trek to the top of 9,265-foot Bill Williams Mountain where the views are described as panoramic and spectacular.
A word to the wise here, especially those unaccustomed to high-altitude hiking. This is a different animal from hiking at an elevation of 2,000-3,000 feet in the Blue Ridge Mountains. The going is much slower, the breathing much harder when you're doing heavy exercise. Plan accordingly, check weather forecasts, allow time, wear layers, take extra water and above all, listen to thy body and know when to quit. A wounded ego trumps a heart attack every time.
Meanwhile back at the parking lot, we picked up the truck and drove back down into town, by this time our exercised bodies looking for a few calories. We picked the Pine Country Restaurant opposite the visitors center. The food was plentiful and good, and the pie was terrific (that pie thing again!).
The bottom line: When you've "done" the canyon via the train, check out the town where the railroad ends.
PAUL SULLIVAN, a former reporter with The Free Lance-Star, is a freelance writer living in Spotsylvania County. E-mail him at
Email: PBSullivan2@cs.com.
