As we talked about yesterday, I’ve spent the last couple of days either en route to, or captive in, Holbrook, Arizona. When I checked into my hotel, the clerk asked what brought me to Holbrook. I told her I was in town for work, as if there were any other reason, and her response? ”I’m sorry.” Never a good sign.
This place is one of the shitholiest shitholes to which I’ve been sent in my 4+ years of being a professional shithole visitor (I like how I used ‘shithole’ three times in that sentence, and yet still refused to end a clause with a preposition), and It represents a rather acute example of what I had in mind when I named the blog what I did. These little towns occupy substantially more of my time than Prague or Paris, and they put the unremarkable back in remarkably unremarkable…
But upon my arrival it was still a little too early to start drinking alone in my hotel room, so I bridged the gap from alcoholic to borderline alcoholic by taking a picture or four. I have to give a disclaimer here: I took every one of these pictures on the 2-mile drive from dinner back to the hotel. I didn’t go searching for abject poverty and boarded up buildings. As far as I can tell, this is an accurate portrayal of the place. At least it’s exactly what you’ll see if you head down the two major thoroughfares in town…
I write you from right about here. The picnic table outside my hotel room. A pretty sweet spot to drink some lonely juice and throw up some pictures.
Ah yes, main street.
I suppose the Econlodge has this place beat.
Haha, even the cop cars are busted around here.
If that double-wide needs some new cabinets, you know who to call...
Navajo Avenue... The other main drag through town.
Hell, if I got a roommate that'd only be $197.50 a month... Any takers?
C'mon... It's got a pretty awesome view...
A busted car behind one of the three restaurants in town that is still in business.
Ok, a few busted cars.
I'm willing to give them the benefit of the doubt... Maybe they do have the best food in town. But that's sort of like being the best dunker in the WNBA...
Kind of a funny story about this bar. The only other time I've been here, my esteemed colleague Glendo and I asked around trying to find a decent bar in town. While literally none of the three people we asked had a single recommendation for us, literally all three of them told us to stay the hell away from the Winner's Circle. We took their advice.
Cool old trucks, I suppose.
Looks like a nice neighborhood.
Sweet. Well, I guess Holbrook has the rock hook-up.
I bet you can get some pretty sweet electronix up in here.
At least they got my hot eats and cool treats covered.
Ok, this isn't a picture of a Burger King. Well, I guess it is. But the point is the KOA campground in the background there. Why? Why on earth would anyone choose to camp in this place? Go 80 miles down the road to Flagstaff. They have mountains, and pretty shit.
Well, at least the local economy is thriving. Here we have Holbrook's largest... boarded up building.
We gave the Indians small pox, Oklahoma, and this place. Nice work America.
Nah. I'll empty my pockets elsewhere.
Who wants some orange chicken? I feel like some orange chicken.
Man, even gas stations are going out business up in here. That's unreal.
Pretty solid vacant lot.
There are like five businesses in this town that aren't boarded up.
There it is. The prettiest thing in town. The water tower.
Anybody looking for a nice business venture? Call my boy Paul. Or my other boy Brian.
Ok. The sunset was pretty. I'll give 'em that.
That’s all for Holbrook. I ought to be leaving this place in my rear view mirror tomorrow morning. Not horribly upset about it either. Coming tomorrow, the Sandstone Bluffs of the El Malpais National Monument. We’ll see you then.
-B. Littleton
