“Sometimes those who don’t socialize much aren’t anti-social. They just have no tolerance for drama, stupidity and fake people.”
~ Unknown
From my perch high above and across the canyon from the collapsed buildings of Two Guns, I could easily see when my intrusive neighbor cleared out. Saturday afternoon the ghost town was empty, and I packed haphazardly and moved back down among the ruins. I didn’t reclaim my old spot but instead parked up closer to I-40 near what had once been a tourist “zoo.” There were dilapidated cages that once held a mountain lion, a bobcat or two and other local varmints when Two Guns was a tourist attraction. I had only planned to stay one night before heading over to Winslow, so I didn’t spend much time scoping out a long-term spot. Sunday morning it was raining in Winslow and I decided I had enough essential supplies to stay another night. My plan was to move to Winslow because the forecast was for hot weather, and the spot I had decided to stay at in Winslow was a campground next to a reservoir. I figured we’d park by water for the hot days and spend some time in Winslow before returning to Two guns prior to the weekend when it would be cooler again. Although the campground was only $15 a night (dry camping—no hookups), I could see no reason to pay for a spot where I’d sit in the van and watch the rain from inside. So I stayed a second night down by the zoo.
Tuesday morning, we headed toward Winslow and stopped at Walmart for some fresh fruits and veggies. As we drove through I realized that I really like Winslow. It’s a bit run down, and the residents seem mostly lower income Hispanic and Native American people. It appears to be mostly a tourist town, with the few blocks downtown and the famous corner busy with folks getting their photo taken next to the little statue of Jackson Browne. It is an unassuming town and feels safe and friendly enough. Only 20 minutes from Two Guns, I decided I’d probably spend more time here than Flagstaff this summer if I can find some BLM land nearby. I was told that there is BLM land along Clear Creek Reservoir just past where I was staying at McHood State Park.
The campground was nice enough. Check in was self-service at a kiosk near the entrance. Unlike most other self-serve campground kiosks, this one was simple, straight-forward and incredibly easy. I picked a fairly level spot at the far end and settled in. Cosmo and I walked to the reservoir, and both got in to cool down. There were only 3 other campers and everyone was spread out, so you know that made me happy.
The weather was predicted to be hot, but after we arrived, thunderstorms rolled in and out for two days. Had I known, we would have stayed in Two Guns for free to sit inside and watch videos. But we made the most of the situation, took walks when the sky cleared for brief intervals, and by Thursday it was sunny and warm and the other campers had cleared out, leaving Cosmo and me to have the whole place to ourselves. We got in the water to cool down in the afternoon, knowing that with the weekend coming, it is unlikely we’d be alone for long.
Friday morning, I saw two guys in a State of Arizona truck and stopped them to inquire about BLM land nearby. They told me it was practically right across the street. They said I could camp free along the river for up to 14 days. I packed up and moved. There were easily accessible spots along Clear Creek, but they were high above the water, with a 30 to 50 foot drop down a steep cliff to get to the water.
I found a spot and settled in. I couldn’t believe this was the best we could do, so in the afternoon we went for a walk and up over a hill we found where most of the campers were staying. Lots and lots of room, some very close to the river. The caveat was that it was only accessible by two extremely rugged roads. I spent a lot of time evaluating them, and decided the clearance of my van was adequate, but the slope of the roads in spots would be way too much of a risk for a 9,000 lb. van that was a lot more top heavy than the pickup trucks that were driving up over the top. We stayed put, but it didn’t take long to realize we were parked way too close to a flat surface that most vehicles used instead of the “road.” The traffic was non-stop and Cosmo had to announce (often for minutes on end) every car that go within 20 feet of the van, and there were many. So we got up early on Saturday morning and explored. We took several rocky paths but I could not find a way over the top of the hill that I felt comfortable driving the van on. I explored some more and gave up on the idea of parking Creekside and I found a very nice and secluded spot.
I couldn’t find the BLM land on any of my usual campsite locating apps, so I was quite grateful for the campground rangers for telling me how to get there. It is a very nice, peaceful and quiet spot. We’ll explore more and see what is available farther up a nearby hill.
Lessons From The Road: When I was in my early teens, my family spent a week at the beach. We went to the boardwalk one night so my younger siblings could play arcade games. My mom and I opted for ice cream instead and we sat on a bench watching people. I remember after a long time of silence she said “One of everything, huh?” I replied, “Two of some.” We both laughed to the verge of tears, and returned to silence. I think of that night often (and fondly). I’ve become an avid people watcher. My college degree in psychology never got me a lucrative job, but the many hours in psychology classes instilled in me a curiosity about people and their behavior that I’ve never lost. Being parked at “the zoo” (which is now just a façade of a long gone building), I am at one of the two main places where tourists stop at Two Guns off old Route 66.
I’m sure there is one of everything, two of some who pull in, but as best I can tell they fall into three main categories: The first and smallest group are those who really come to explore. They park, get out and walk down the steps to the zoo. They look over the canyon, snapping photos with their iPhones, and trying to take it all in. They frequently wander around a bit before realizing that they should get back in their vehicle and drive over the bridge to the section where I stayed last week to see the main ruins. I can see them looking and pointing when they figure out where the Apache Death Cave is located, and they once again get in their cars and drive over to explore before heading out.
The second and largest group are those that park either at the burned-out gas station, or one of the other nearby buildings, or the zoo. They get out briefly, snap a picture and get back in their cars and drive off. They seem to have little curiosity. Maybe they are just taking a photo to prove they stopped. They stay less than 5 minutes and never get farther than 10 feet from their cars.
The last group are the most fascinating to me. I call them the drive-by shooters. They don’t actually stop–They pull into the lot above the zoo or the gas station parking lot and stick a phone out the window of their moving vehicle and take a photo. They immediately turn right back to the on ramp of I-40 and continue on their way. They make me laugh, and they make me sad in a way. They seem to me to be quintessential Americans, circa 2025. They never touch something long enough to see what it is, or to ponder how it got here or what it means. The most superficial encounter is enough to sate their curiosity on their way to McDonald’s drive thru window.
I have to stop and think which group I fall into. I know here at Two Guns, I’m at the top of the list for group one. Over the past couple years, I’ve spent weeks, perhaps months exploring Two Guns and I feel I’ve only scratched the surface of the sights and experiences it holds. But in the broader sense of how I experience life, I wonder. I’ve spent nearly three quarters of a century and what have I experienced? What have I seen? What do I really know? I have definitely decided I want to be the kind of person that takes a deep dive into life for whatever time I have left.