Touring Small Towns in Arizona

Driving through small towns in the Arizona, you see a repeating a narrative of rise and fall. Whether you are checking out the neon lights frozen in time since the 1950s along Route 66, or an entire town living like it's 1881 and re-enacting old west shoot-outs daily, there is a lot of nostalgia for the past.

The preservation efforts are not just about holding on to history; they are acts of survival, of reinvention. These days, towns blend the forgotten with the reclaimed, and remind us that even though the highway traffic or natural resources may be gone, the locals still remain. Also, they have the best breakfast diners.

Route 66 - Oatman, Kingman, Seligman

Arizona is home to one of the most storied highways in America - Route 66 runs through the state, and winds through small towns passed over by the interstate and frozen in time. We toured through several on our way to Tucson and stayed a night in Kingman. These places have re-invented themselves as tourist destinations full of Americana-Kitsch. Oatman in particular is famous for the donkeys that live in the town and walk up and down main street like they own the place.

Tombstone, Arizona

This town was named after a local silver mine (apparently people advised it's creator against the name 😄) and is famous because of several movies and TV shows for which it is the namesake. Cowboys lead stagecoach tours, and it was in one of those that we learned that Tombstone has burned completely to the ground more than once. They call it "The Town That Refuses To Die."

There is a lot of tourism built up around the famous "Shootout at the OK Corral". The whole small town feels like an old western cosplayers dream. I admire the commitment that the locals have to staying in character. People wander the streets strapped up with with six shooters and dressed like cowboys and lawmen that stepped straight out of the 1800s. One of my favourite parts was this local root beer shop - I didn't realize that the man inside brewed all of the "Sarsparilla" himself, and when I asked if it was any good, he said "It better be." After learning that I was Canadian, he wanted to confirm that I did not support "that Trudeau guy" before he would sell me a root beer.

Bisbee, Arizona

The locals I have met in Tucson seem a little turned off by the kitsch in Tombstone, and recommended checking out Bisbee, a nearby town that developed around a large open-pit copper mine in nearby Lowell in the late 1800s. The town is full of old cars, a retro gas station, and the original location of a great breakfast place called the "Bisbee Breakfast Club."

This mine seems to have lasted longer than the silver mine in Tombstone (Bisbee itself is a much larger town), and though this type of mining is not common anymore (it's pretty devastating to the environment) there's something serene about the sheer magnitude of the pit.

Whether they boomed from a popular highway or from abundant natural resources, these towns feel like an opportunity to peer into the origin of the American spirit. Both rapidly growing wealth, and perseverance in the face of overwhelming odds seem distinctly American to my limited view. In places, the landscape itself is shaped by the scars of prosperity and decline, but the people are kind in a way that I found unexpected from tourist towns, offering smiles and guidance that lets you know they are proud to share their hometown with you. The streets are filled with artwork and life and it all serves as a reminder that it is the community that truly defines a place.