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Bobby Troup wrote about it. Nat King Cole sang about it. Cars traveled it. And tourists celebrated it.

When Route 66, aka The Mother Road, was commissioned in 1926, a piece of Americana was born. The route went west 2,448 miles from Chicago and traveled through eight states and three time zones to its terminus in Los Angeles. Traveled by westward migrants during the Dust Bowl in the 1930s and later those seeking jobs in California during World War II, the route was a shot in the arm of every economy of the town it ran through.

So when Route 66 started to be dismantled - namely bypassed - in the late 1950s, there was a collective gasp along the route by the economies that relied on Troup's and Cole's popularizing words and the dollars of those seeking their thrills along it. Among the economies was Williams, Ariz., a small western town that was three-quarters of the way along the route. The town residents watched other famous stops along the route lose some prosperity and recognition. When the time came in 1984 for the federal government to build an interstate as a bypass of Williams, it too expected that its glory days were behind it.

But that's not true. Instead, Williams' act of rising from the ashes, so to speak, came from determination and hope. And that's what makes it right to call Williams the little town that could.

Memory lane

Main Street in Williams is a mix of old and new. Route 66 still runs through town, even though it's not a main thoroughfare, instead having been replaced by Interstate 40. Memorabilia exist in storefronts, signs and colorful murals. Here or there you'll see restored vehicles of a bygone era. Shiny red Chevrolets. Pink Cadillac convertibles. Or you'll see a red-lace-clad hussy (a dummy, actually) hanging precariously from the second story of the Red Garter Bed and Bakery, which once was a house of ill repute. At DeBerge's Gallery of Western Wear and Fine Gifts, an array of cowboy boots - in a variety of styles - lines the shelves.

Though many of these sights are reminiscent of the past, you'll also see the newness of Williams - updated facades on buildings and businesses that reflect a changing demographic and growing population. The modernization is a concerted effort, says Donna Eastman Liddle, president of the Williams Chamber of Commerce.

Liddle says that in 1984, the town strongly resisted the new interstate that would steal its traffic and potential visitors. "Change in a small town is always hard," Liddle says. For a few years, Williams residents hung in limbo, wondering if the town could find its way back to a previous heyday and deliberate destination. It was at this point that it could have gone either way - bust or boom.

Of course, Williams remains on the map. Its ray of hope, Liddle says, came in 1989, when Max and Thelma Biegart bought the Grand Canyon Railway with the intent of bringing it back to life and running a passenger rail business between Williams and a world gem just an hour's drive north - the Grand Canyon. Liddle explains that the Biegarts' plan to put the train back on the tracks was met with some cynicism and criticism by a contingent of Williams residents. They didn't have much confidence in its success.

They were wrong. Today, the Grand Canyon Railway carries about 225,000 passengers each year and is the biggest employer in Williams - about 500. The growth of the railway took several years, but its arrival created what Liddle calls a "sophisticated level of marketing and branding" that required the residents, local government and business owners to adopt. In many ways, that was Williams' turning point.

Interstate interlude

Liddle says the city invested nearly $2 million into its downtown historic district - upgrading its infrastructure including sidewalks and streetlights. One of the challenges, though, was urging absentee business owners of vacant buildings to sign onto a revitalization plan.

"Curb appeal hardly existed, except at the railway properties," Liddle says. "Development occurred at the interstate entrances that made Williams seem like only a gas stop, and not a destination."

That appearance was entirely true - at least for Ray and Rhonda Jeppsen, tourists from central Ohio who visited Williams this summer for the first time in 25 years. The Jeppsens traveled Route 66 from beginning to end only once, but they say they have clear memories of notable places like Williams.

"Back then, well, it was busier and people seemed to be slowing down to see what was around them," says Ray Jeppsen. "With the interstate over there now, it's just people moving by as fast as they can. I guess I can't blame them, but I wonder how many of them knew that this place we are sitting right here is someplace they would have had to pass 30 years ago to get to where they are racing to."

Liddle explains that it took a lot of time for local business owners not to feel threatened by competing business interests. New restaurants and hotels - or even just the improvements and expansion of existing ones - were viewed by a handful as something "negative."

"Negativity can be damaging to growth and improvement, and it was in Williams . . . for awhile," Liddle adds.

But with concerted efforts and persistence, the stronger, more visionary leaders in Williams eventually filled the bandwagon. Officials put pressure on property owners. The city proved it was able to supply water to a redefined population. And the city came full circle in its realization that the Grand Canyon Railway was the Route 66 of the 1990s. Combining the natural wonder, an old western town and a means of transportation, Williams adopted the moniker of "Gateway to the Grand Canyon."

"I think that was a smart move," says tourist Leslye Hampton, a Phoenix resident who takes her family to Williams often to ride the train - and chow at the Sultana Steak House. A relative newcomer to Arizona, Hampton says she didn't know about Williams and its hardships after the decommissioning of Route 66.

"People down in Phoenix would talk about the mountains and stuff up here, but I didn't realize until we came here about four, five years ago that this place has the history that it does," Hampton explains.

Making it

Indeed, Williams is much more than a piece of transportation history and getting-on point for the railway. The city is situated in the largest stand of ponderosa pine trees in the world, according to chamber information. Its elevation is 6,700 feet - a high point for the desert mass that makes up Arizona. Outdoor enthusiasts come here because Williams is in the middle of the Kaibab National Forest. With its lakes and camping options, people take to the mountains in search of recreation in nature - like the town's tiny but worthy ski run and miles of cross-country skiing terrain. The Elephant Rocks Golf Course has been called one of Arizona's "most exotic" courses. The course has been around since the early 1920s and retains much of its topography and features, including the original stone clubhouse.

Williams also has a growing cache of restaurants, shops and tourist traps. Most notable, if you want Route 66 mementoes is The Route 66 and Twisters Soda Fountain, where owner Dave Pouquette serves up tasty ice-cream treats in a 1950s-era soda shop. Wear a poodle skirt if you dare; otherwise, browse the gift shop that is chockablock with Route 66 souvenirs - perhaps the most of anywhere along the historic route.

And when you are done there, head out to get your kicks (it had to be said) on the remnants of Route 66 that loop around Williams. It's a part of American history that in this town will always coexist with the modernized tourist destination that was once threatened with obscurity but instead realized its potential to be the little town that could.

GRAND CANYON RAILWAY

So there I was on the train as it glided its way through the pine trees and scrub brush of the spectacular stretch of forest between the Grand Canyon and Williams. I sat content with a fresh drink, good, salty cheese snacks and talking with interesting railcar mates.

We were in a first-class car of the Grand Canyon Railway, that old but revitalized train that shuttles willing and anxious tourists between one of the world's greatest natural wonders and a town straight out of the Old West. This was nothing unusual. People have used this train for this kind of travel since 1901, save for about 20 years when train traveling took a back seat - no pun intended - to the automobile.

I was being styled with hors d' oeuvres and a stunningly beautiful bar that offered unparalleled service. Today, the drink special is a "woo woo" - you know, the sound a train makes when it blows it whistle. The deal is, the louder and more enthusiastically you say "woo woo" when ordering the drink, the stiffer the bartender makes your drink. It's a small price to pay for a stiff cocktail on an afternoon leisure trip.

Though I'm mostly a shy person, I step up and offer the most earnest "woo woo" I've got. Sure enough, my drink was stiff enough to make me sit up straight. But was it stiff enough to imagine what happened next? Outside my window was a massive bird that commanded my attention. Dazed in an Arizona moment, it all went awry from there.

The corner of my eye caught a fast-moving animal alongside the train. I looked once and thought the stiffness of my drink was kicking in. I looked again and noticed two fast-moving animals. Stiff just got stiffer. Then I saw what was on the fast-moving animals: cowboys! Wielding guns in the air while their beady eyes popped out above their handkerchiefed faces, they rode at lightning speed to catch the train.

Once they caught the train, they jumped from horse to railcar. The door to the railcar slammed open and there I was, caught entirely unaware. I'm being robbed!

My first instinct was to stand up and surrender - yell, "I was framed!" But then I got my wits about me and realized I wasn't having a flashback to my college days and the rare (very rare, I'd like to add) interactions with the men in blue. A different kind of panic set in, and my heart raced. I had only shekels to offer, which I knew might not appease these bandits, these hooligans who just crashed our party. I mean, I was drinking "woo woo's" after all, and I was drunk on self-confidence for getting stiff service.

The first robber walked by and zeroed in on some poor sap who started emptying his pockets with a fury unforeseen until now. Unsatisfied, the robber moves onto his next victim. I sat frozen, hoping that the second robber was going to walk right past me, having picked up on the idea that I was a poor, starving writer whose best tool for negotiation was words. And in this moment, I didn't think yelling "woo woo" was going to save me.

But then it happened. That robber walked up to me and met my eyes. He talked tough, but the bold brown peeking out between his black cowboy hat and black handkerchief portrayed anything but tough. He demanded my valuables. Would he settle for a fifty-cent word instead?

"No deal, little lady," he replied in a deep and sultry voice.

His gun, a shiny silver though it was, had a pearled handle. He waved it gently, in a John Wayne kind of way. What style he has when choosing his weapons, I thought.

His bushy sideburns . . . all man. His thick hands . . . strong like an ox. His chaps intact and accenting all the right places, showing off his clean, pressed . . . Levis.

Wait a minute? Levis? He had on Levis? I demanded he turn around for a fashion inspection (honestly, it was all about the fashion). He did. And then I busted him.

This man is wearing Levis, I heard myself utter incredulously. "These aren't Wranglers," I yelped.

The first robber down the aisle stopped suddenly, twirling around and revealing the frightened look in his eyes. "Busted," his eyes exclaimed with nary a word.

My robber - yes, mine - slowly turned around to face me. And then I knew.

"This robber is a fraud," I woo-wooed. "Cowboys, even the robbers, wear Wranglers."

And then it had to be said: "I was framed!"

Indeed, I was. And so was everyone else on the Grand Canyon Railway that day as we were entertained by the staged train robbery.

The robbery is fake, but the atmosphere on the train ride from the Grand Canyon to Williams brings slices of life about the Old West to tourists. Though the acting robbers really were handsome men, their shtick is an important part of the experience aboard a train that has been such an integral piece in keeping tourists flocking to Williams.

When tourists board the train in Williams, they have a chance to see the Cataract Gang shoot-out to really kick off a trip that the train company tries to make as authentic as possible - and have been doing so since its rebirth in 1984, when Max and Thelma Biegert brought the railway out of retirement and invested millions of dollars into rebuilding the decaying tracks and restoring the depots at the Grand Canyon and in Williams.

The Biegerts' accomplishment is often credited for making Williams a go-to spot in northern Arizona, infusing countless tourist dollars into the economy, as well as helping reduce the car traffic at the South Rim of the Grand Canyon by about 10 percent. Today, the train carries more than 225,000 passengers each year. It has several levels of railcar classes, usually running the train with between 10 and 15 cars. From Memorial Day to Labor Day, the train uses its steam engine as its source of power. At other times of the year, it uses a diesel engine.

Last year, the Grand Canyon Railway introduced its Sunset Limited ride, which includes a ride time during September and October that allows riders to watch the sun set while listening to live jazz and sipping cocktails. The limited ride adds to the railways other special events such as the annual run of the popular Polar Express, which heads to the North Pole so that kids can make their special requests of the round-bellied, white-bearded man.

The train has come a long way, says Heather Gearhart, public relations manager, especially because no one seemed to care, or even notice, when it stopped running in 1968. Its impact on the surrounding communities is big, with the railway being the town of Williams' biggest employer, at about 500.

Perhaps the biggest nod to the train's comeback story - beyond its quarter-million ridership and handsome faux robbers - is on eBay, where a piece of Grand Canyon Railway memorabilia, including Coke or Pepsi bottles with the train's logo fetches money that is sometimes 100 times more than the original cost.

You can't rob nostalgia.

Even in Wranglers.

TOURING THE GRAND CANYON VIA HELICOPTER

It's one mile deep, 277 miles long and anywhere from a half-mile to 18 miles wide. But when you have only a day to see it, it's nearly impossible to appreciate the magnificence of the Grand Canyon. A bird's eye view helps.

In recent decades, time-crunched tourists who have neither the inclination or stamina to explore the canyon have been turning to taking helicopter rides over one of the Seven Wonders of the World. Though raising some controversy when tour companies began pitching the idea and seeking approval from the federal government, which manages it, helicopters flying over head have mostly become an accepted part of peoples' visits.

Maverick Helicopter Tours company is one such that gives air tours over the Grand Canyon. Based in Las Vegas, Nev., the company also does business at the South Rim of the canyon. Maverick stands out among air-tour operators because of its fleet of ECO-Star helicopters. These type of helicopters are touted as the VIP-style of aircraft, in which passengers can maximize their view of the canyon through the wrap-around glass.

On our trip on a fall day, our Maverick pilot, Raleigh, knew the tricks of the trade for calming tourists' nerves about flying. He strategically placed passengers to safely distribute the weight, gave us the rules and told us to look our best. We were being videotaped - and if we liked what we saw, we could buy a DVD of us looking at what we saw.

ECO-Star helicopters are known for their being fuel efficient and much quieter than other tour helicopters. So as we lifted smoothly off the ground, it was with a comfort of knowing we were having as small of an impact as possible on those who were enjoying the canyon on the ground.

Starting out, we gained air over the autumn-soaked Kaibab National Forest. Then we headed north through the Dragon Corridor and caught glimpses of the mighty Colorado River - that stretch of water that is the lifeblood for an untold number of people on the Colorado Plateau and on down as it makes its way to the sea. From there we turned south and viewed the Tower of Ra, a majestic stone monument that was named after the Egyptian sun god, and then onward to fly over the Vishnu Schist.

Words can't describe seeing the Grand Canyon from the air. Suffice it to say that it would be a long string of superlatives. The view gives tourists a different perspective on just how huge the gorge is and how forceful nature can be.

- Amy MaestasAmy Maestas is a contributing editor of Inside/Outside Southwest.