Alas, El Vado is permanently vacant ... surrounded by fence (and therefore very hard to get a decent shot of) and left to decay, empty, like so many other charming adobe style motor courts along this part of Route 66.
This motel is on West Central, a very safe part of town -- in fact I'm staying right next door, at the Monterey -- but the barbed wire sneaking its way into my frame reminds me of what I wrote in a quick missive for FB about the uber seedy eastern stretch yesterday, a place full of life and death all at once:
East Central is intense. Heisenberg's minions lurk down every sidestreet idling in apparent languor, long limbs slung over BMX handlebars, heads hung low, minding their own business until business is at hand. Toothless whores with exquisite bone structure and soft hair tied back haphazardly, wearing filthy kimonos and bandages covering their arms, shuffle about in a daze in front of their no-tells, waiting for the resident tricks to come down enough to take them inside again. Remains of an American roadside culture rot beautifully behind chain link fences and razor wire.