Flagstaff to Cameron, Arizona

September 4, 2023

It’s On!

What a fantastic day! Got started around 9:00 am, figured about 5 hours to finish, at a leisurely pace. Temperatures were cool and a tailwind was present. But the story gets better.

Flagstaff has a wide sidewalk that runs along the main road out of town. Since I noted a few cyclists using it, I decided to take advantage and avoid traffic for as long as possible.

Landscaping along the side path of the main road.

The iconic Route 66 ran through Flagstaff. A short stretch of the old road has been preserved.

Once out of town, the road (US-89) had more high speed traffic. It is Labor Day and lots of people are on the road either headed home and/or to one last bit of fun before returning to work and school. The shoulder was good, for the most part, but they all have their moments, as any road cyclist can testify.

7000 foot point, about 13 miles North of Flagstaff.

A little over 13 miles into the ride, I was surprised to see an elevation sign that said 7000 feet. Flagstaff is at 6900 feet but I was cruising along so nicely that the altitude hadn’t entered my mind.

At a little over 16 miles, a sign indicated the summit at 7276 feet. Another sign warned of a steep descent. Then, a tremendous vista appeared of a road falling away and stretching well off into the distance.

The descent sign said it was for 2 miles but that was only for the steep portion. The real descent went on for a lot longer. With the tailwind, maintaining speeds between 21 and 32 miles per hour was child’s play. It was a blast!

I had put 30 miles under my wheels with minimal effort and it was still early. My first break came at 41 miles and a place called Gray Mountain. There is a trading post there, but when I tried the door, it was locked. Surmising it was Labor Day and they wouldn’t be open, I was resigned to making this a water break only. Then some guys pulled up but were disappointed the place was not open. Looking crestfallen, they got into their car and started driving away. Then I remembered and motioned to them. They stopped and rolled down the window. I told them the Cameron Trading Post was about 10 miles further and should be open. They seemed much happier and gave me a bottle of cold water. I thanked them and we each moved on.

A little further along, a sign indicated I had reached the Southern border of the Navajo Reservation. This was pretty cool until the wonderful shoulder I had so been enjoying turned into excrement. I had been traveling at high speeds, nearly oblivious to the motorists who were traveling at higher speeds. Now, I would be in their lane and that was not a pleasant prospect. I’ve seen comments from these fellows who advocate taking the lane at all times. I think one of those guys needs to give me a demonstration on this part of Highway 89.

The “Navajo shoulder” was barely wider than the rumble strip. It sloped sharply away from the road. It then stepped down to a very rough area that sloped even more away from the road. I stayed in the lane until the giant speeding RVs approached. Then I went off the road until the line of vacationing crazies had passed.

Fortunately, this foul state of affairs was short lived. My wide shoulder reappeared within a couple of miles and it then was smooth sailing into Cameron. If the appropriate person(s) could modify that lousy section of shoulder to be in line with the rest of the Highway, it would make this entire ride a dream come true.

Cameron now has sidewalks and I used them.

I was in Cameron once before… 45 years ago, to be exact. It looks nothing like it did in my memory. Back then, there was not much more than a dilapidated trading post building with a few taciturn Native Americans sitting out front. I remember going in there and getting a few supplies from their meager shelves. We asked if there was a campground nearby and one of the fellows pointed across the road to indicate we could camp primitively there. So, we did.

Cameron, Arizona in June 1978. Don't laugh but I'm the fellow with the high white socks. Hey, those were on the cutting edge of fashion back then.

Today, Cameron looks like a smaller version of Breezewood, off of the Pennsylvania Turnpike. Incredible! Sometime since my last visit, somebody must’ve figured out that there is money to be made from all of these people who pass through here on their way to the Grand Canyon. I imagined a mythical town hall meeting where a tribal elder may have said something to the effect, “If we had more to offer than this crappy trading post, some real money could be made for this town.” Today, the guys out front now are well dressed, friendlier, and undoubtedly smiling all the way to the bank.

I finished the ride in 3.5 hours, was able to check into a nice room, and eat in a good restaurant. Although I have fond memories of that campsite of long ago, I am not interested in reliving them this evening.

If in Cameron, be sure to order the Navajo Taco.

I am looking forward to a good night of sleep and continuing this adventure tomorrow. Ya’at’eeh hiilchi’j.

Today's ride: 54 miles (87 km)
Total: 106 miles (171 km)

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