A History Lesson From a Hobo in Two Guns, Arizona

Welcome to Two Guns: An Authentic Wild West Ghost Town on Route 66 in Arizona

I’ve never been to a ghost town before, so imagine my glee as I pulled off the Arizona interstate and drove up to Two Guns: a town that looked as if no one had set foot in it for decades.

Graffiti on an old water silo in Two Guns, Arizona, on the Mother Road

My approach was slow and full of stops to take photos of everything. First there was the gutted old gas station, then more old houses, towers covered in graffiti art and even an original decaying Route 66 bridge. Well, after hours in the car and nary another soul in sight, I figured this abandoned town was a perfect place to pee in the open.

With my business finished, I took out my camera and began to take photos of a beautifully grafittied pool sitting next to an abandoned old barn that once doubled as a tourist stop.

Imagine my surprise when, after a couple of minutes of snapping away, I hear a voice saying, “Hello. How are you doing?” Well, after pretty much jumping out of my skin in shock, I took a look at my greeter: an old hobo complete with the tattered jacket, hole-filled gloves, socks coming out of the shoes and a smell to match.

The entrance to the abandoned ghost town of Two Guns, Arizona

I kept my distance at first, but gladly donated all the change in my pocket when he asked if I could spare any money. Next, he told me that what he really needed was a ride into Flagstaff, Arizona, where he had been trying to get for days.

I politely informed him that I didn’t even have room for another bag in my car, let alone another person. He next asked me if I would like to know some history of the area, to which I graciously said yes.

I didn't see him at first, but the hobo was there the whole time — I didn’t see him at first, but the hobo was there the whole time

He talked. I listened. But I still kept my distance. It was literally him, me and the wilderness. The man seemed nice enough, but who really knew. Did he have a knife or gun under that dirty trench coat? No one would hear me scream. Anyway, he continued to talk for a few minutes then invited me into the barn, which he apparently lived in, to continue with his story.

At this point, I felt like I had no choice but to excuse myself and say that I had to be in Los Angeles by the next day and really didn’t have time. In reality, he was probably a completely harmless and lonely old man.

Lord knows he was full of information about the area and after I left him I followed his advice and checked out another section of Two Guns that I never would have found without his pointer. But when I was invited into the hobo’s house…well, that just sent my sketchy-meter over the edge and made it time to leave.

For more on Two Guns, check out Legends of America

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