Tombstone is just O.K.

Tuesday, September 20, 2005 (Day 4) — I think it's going to be hard to top our visit to Saguaro National Park. Visions of those acres of cacti and memories of the sand under my feet and the heat pressing down on us as we got an up-close look at the Arizona desert will stick with me for a long time. And I cling to those memories more dearly when I experience a place like Tombstone, which is where our journey led us today.

I fell into bed dog tired last night before finishing the day's journal entry. I think we were all punked out from the late dinner and being over satiated. We all slept very soundly, even Ben, who was the first to rise and noticed how late it was. It was a little past 8 a.m., which meant that we had to hustle through our showers to make it to the lobby in time for our continental breakfast. We did so with a little time to spare. The selection was about the worst we've encountered so far, with cereal, mini muffins and some toast and juice. At least it was edible. We started the day like we've grown accustomed to starting every day: rearranging the back of my car to fit in the suitcases, dirty laundry and growing number of souvenirs. Roni gave us a scare when she couldn't account for a huge bag that held two days worth of our clothes. Fortunately she had already stuffed it inside a hefty bag and didn't know that I had consolidated all the loose articles of clothing that were floating around my trunk. I did that because a few months back I used part of a quart of motor oil in my engine and left the unused portion sitting in the closed container in the back of my car. Huge mistake. Oil, when left in a non-factory sealed container, leaks. So about half a quart of oil managed to escape on the lid of the cargo deck in my truck. I spent part of last Friday soaking up what I could, but to be safe I lined the bottom with plastic bags and old towels before piling our luggage into the trunk. Things seem to be OK, but why chance that a favorite shirt or treasured souvenir will become ruined by oil residue? I made sure to place all the perishables on top of the suitcases, and in bags when possible.

My gas tank was still about half full, so I decided we were ready to hit the road around 9:30. We continued east on I-10 and soon realized just how far we were from Tucson. Officially, we weren't even in the city limits last night. We had decided after some discussion during breakfast that today we would stick with our original itinerary and head south to Tombstone (more on that in a moment). But to get there would require us to drive through Tucson on the interstate, and if we were going to do that anyhow then why not cruise on into the downtown area just to say we were there. I balked at first because I thought we shouldn't be poking around the city when we might want that extra time to explore the historic site where Wyatt Earp and the Clanton gang once roamed. But Roni reassured me that we'd have plenty of time so long as we got there no later than 2 p.m. for the staged gunfight at the O.K. Corral. Fine. I had no preconceived notions about the day beyond seeing Tombstone, so a side trip through Tucson might not be a bad idea.

Tucson's downtown was a little busier than what we experienced in Phoenix yesterday. This is not to say that it was congested. On the contrary, there was plenty of time to look and linger as we made our way through the city streets. We stopped at the Tucson Visitor Center on the Plaza De La Mesilla to look for postcards and tour guides. It looked like it would be a nice place to hang out for a spell, with its collection of cafés and small shops. All the buildings are painted in gregarious hues — bright oranges and yellows, purples, reds, greens — the look of old adobes and Mexican influence. We only fed the parking meter for 30 minutes, so we didn't linger. Back in the car, we drove along Broadway until we encountered a Safeway store where we stopped for ice, sodas, postcards — the usual fare. We finally managed to leave town around 11:30, but not before stopping along the way so Roni could grab some pictures of the various murals that are displayed beneath the overpasses. Public art is a huge deal in Tucson. There are statues on many corners, murals painted at intersections and on the sides of businesses. These are not all located in the commercial district where one might expect. I was particularly taken by a cathedral that I wanted to get a snapshot of. I was so intent on getting the best angle that I failed to realize I was driving the wrong way on a one-way street. It was a three-lane street at that, which shows you how light traffic was. Fortunately by the time I realized the mistake (or Roni realized it for me) I was close to the turn lane for a public parking lot and just swung in. No harm done. But Ben got a kick out of reminding me of the error.

Tombstone is a good 50 miles southeast of Tucson by way of the town of Benson. It's actually 25 miles east to Benson on I-10 and another 25 south on State Route 80. I was curious to see Benson because of the old 1973 movie "Dark Star" that features the very obscure country tune "Benson, Arizona." The song really has nothing to do with the town, but it's all for the sake of nostalgia or trivia that I wanted to stop at the city entrance and get a photo of me next to the sign. So that's what we did, Roni wondering the whole time what the big deal was. One would well wonder. Benson is just a strip of nondescript businesses that folks from the world beyond must bypass to reach Tombstone.

After the 25-mile jaunt from Benson that included a 15-minute delay for road construction, we reached the town of Tombstone about 1 p.m. I'd like to write here about the sense of awe I felt being in a place where so much Western lore was born 125 years ago. I'd love to say that I got goosebumps at the sight of the O.K. Corral, which you can see right from Highway 80 as you pull into town. I wish I could tell you how excited Ben was to be in a real Western frontier town with all its well preserved buildings for his first real look at a working piece of cowboy history. I'd love to say all of those things, but I can't. Tombstone, in my opinion, is a soulless shadow of what it could be. It is a place where hokum outnumbers history on a scale of about 20-to-1, where the lines between historical fact and recreated fantasy are so fuzzy that it is almost impossible for the casual observer to determine what is authentic and what is there merely as another way to make a buck for someone. Making bucks is really Tombstone's only mission as far as we could tell. And judging by the myriad hand-painted "no parking" signs that line the blocks around the historic downtown, the locals tolerate the tourists only so far as they have to in order to separate them from their dollars.

We parked near the old courthouse off of Toughnut Street and walked a couple of blocks to the main street where dozens of shops line a two-block long dirt road. At least I will give the town credit for trying to preserve the Old West feel of the area by blocking off the streets to vehicle traffic. We were greeted by a couple of gentlemen dressed in period clothing encouraging us to head on over to the O.K. Corral for the 2 p.m. staging of the famous gunfight between the Earps and the Clantons. We had planned to do this anyway, and seeing as how it was right next door to City Park and its restrooms, we moseyed on over there. After visiting the facilities and surveying the fenced-off area that was where the O.K. Corral was supposed to be, we had a heart-to-heart discussion about whether it was worth the $22 we would have to spend for the half-hour show that Ben didn't want to see anyhow. We quickly reached the conclusion that it wasn't and decided instead to use the time touring the gift shops. And that was when it started to hit me what it is about this place I find so objectionable: So much of the history of Tombstone is off limits unless you want to shell out to see it. The tour books warn as much, but you don't realize how vital the history is to truly enjoying this place until you take it all away, and then it becomes just another tourist trap with its trinket stores and little else. Not that I have anything against trinkets. We're tourists, and we're on vacation, and I'll walk into any trinket store I can find if I think there's a chance I'll bag some more postcards. But that loses its appeal quickly. The Bird Cage Theatre, Big Nose Kate's, the O.K. Corral, the Tombstone Epitaph... all of those places have historical significance and little of it is available to the general public. It's not like a state park where you pay your entrance fee and get to see it all. And yes, we were disappointed by that aspect.

It's not that the visit was all bad. We had a good time walking around the historic district and visiting the stores. Ben got to pose for a photo with a man dressed as the town sheriff. We had lunch next to the Ghosts & Legends theater. I added another 30 postcards to my collection. Ben got a taste of prickly pear cactus candy. By the time we left we were pretty exhausted from the heat anyhow, so it was good to get back in the car and grab some cold water that had been sitting on ice all afternoon. We made the trek back the way we had come on Highway 80, getting stuck once more at the road construction site, and rejoined I-10 at Benson.

This was where things suddenly became tricky. It was now after 3:30 and we didn't know where we would be staying for the night. We had talked about just going back to Tucson, but that clearly wouldn't have worked as we had come this far and didn't want to give up the mileage we had already made toward future destinations. We had also discussed staying the night in nearby Willcox. But that was only 30 miles to the east and we knew we'd have more time to make headway. So we settled on Deming, N.M. That was about 150 miles to the east and easily reachable with the daylight we had left. We drove east a ways until we started seeing signs for a roadside business called The Thing? that also advertised a Dairy Queen. I was in the mood for something cold to fight off the 95 degree heat, and one of their Blizzards would probably do it. Plus it would tide us all over so we wouldn't feel the need to stop for a full dinner somewhere. We wound up lingering at The Thing? for at least half an hour getting our treats and more postcards. Then by the time we reached Willcox, I was ready to get more gas. Found it for $2.86, which was a dime a gallon cheaper than the nearby Chevron. All of this took time, so by the time we were less than a third of the way to Deming the sun was going down. Soon we were traveling I-10 in darkness and it was getting late. Something else I hadn't considered before now was the time change when we crossed the border into New Mexico. They're on Mountain Time, which meant we'd lose another hour. So rather than it being 7 p.m., it was actually 8 p.m. by the time we reached Lordsburg, N.M. We had decided miles before then that this would be our stop for the night rather than Deming, which was still another 60 miles. Besides, we were missing all the scenery in the darkness, whatever that scenery might be.

We checked into Room 216 at the Holiday Inn Express, sucking up the $85 it came to after the exorbitant hotel tax. But Roni said it was better than the alternative we would have encountered had we gone all the way to Deming. Apparently all the rooms there were pretty much booked tonight. The hotel clerk who helped us told Roni that westbound travelers had been calling ahead to Lordsburg because there were no reservations available in Deming. So I'm glad we didn't play that little game. Instead, we wound up ordering sandwiches delivered to our room from a nearby sub shop, which was one of the few places open after 8 p.m. on a Tuesday night. Seems even the Taco Bell/KFC next door closes at 8, so we were unable to partake in $2.99 Taco Tuesday. Roni refers to this as a "baby town" because they're shy on services and have ungodly early closing hours. Heck, they're only 3,000 population. But I had to laugh at her assessment.

Given that I lost an hour this evening and it's officially 1:30 in the morning, I guess I'd better get to sleep. We have a busy day ahead tomorrow as we press east to Deming and check out the sights at Rock Hound Park.