September 25 – In Which We Plan to Say Goodbye

I had another thought about Las Vegas.  It happened when I saw the sign that said Salt Lake City 465 miles.  When my friend Phil McFall and I came out West in 1968 he was 20 and I was 21.  I thought Las Vegas was fabulous but he soon tired of sitting at a table watching me drink and play the slots so we managed only about 2 hours there.  We then made a crucial decision that we would never be this close to Yellowstone or Mount Rushmore, so rather than heading east we headed north.  We got in to Salt Lake some long time later and paid $1 apiece to get in to an all night drive-in where we slept in the car until sometime in the wee hours of the morning.  We woke, used the bathroom, and kept on driving toward Wyoming.  I remember distinctly that The Sand Pebbles was playing when I conked out.

Today we did another massive drive all the way to Oklahoma City.  Like an old friend that passes in out of your life Route 66 meandered beside us first on one side of the interstate and then the other.  It would then take off away from us across a distant field or over and around an unnamed butte disappearing for hours at a time only to reappear by our side for some miles.  Tomorrow morning we will tell her goodbye for the last time as we head East toward Little Rock and she turns North to Tulsa, Kansas and Saint Louis.  She has been our friend and guide and teacher for almost three weeks and like that old friend who moves away we will miss her and look forward to her stories of the road when next we meet.

And with that, two days from home I will end this tale and say yet again,

Life is Good.

See You Soon, old friends.

September 24 – Moving On

First a country comes to town story about Vegas.

We splurged and stayed at the Bellagio and upon arrival in the room I looked over a basket of goodies and jokingly said, “Look honey they have a gift basket just like Holiday Inn has for Priority Club Members,”  I lifted each item from the basket telling Nancy what it was; knowing all along that it was the mini-bar food and very expensive.  I mean like a bag of Lays is $3.00.  Clever me.  Funny me.  Until the bellman came with the luggage and began to show us the room features.  He concluded with the comment, “Whatever you do don’t touch this food unless you want it.  Each item has a sensor that automatically charges it to your room bill if you move it.”

What!!???

Called the front desk and yep I had run up a $63 min-bar bill and hadn’t opened a bag.

Of course they were nice enough to credit me once I told them what had happened.  Guess I’m not the only Yahoo that comes to town.

We rolled out of LV about 9:30, covered ground we had covered yesterday going through Boulder City and Hoover Dam.  We moved on until we hooked up with I-40 and then it was non-stop to, you might know, Albakirkie, 535 miles of hard road.

We did so with a degree of regret as we passed by towns that had been on our main route coming out.  Once in while we glimpsed the old road and it seemed to beckon for our return.  It is not practical for such highways to exist anymore it swwms.  We all have to get to where we’re going as fast as possible.  Yet now I know what the modern world has made me miss.  Towns like Baghdad and Oatman and Grants and Winslow.  Places where real people live real lives of “quiet desperation” per T.S. Eliot.  Places like Madison and Hartsville.  Places that I know and that know me.

Tomorrow we’ll make Oklahoma.

Life is good if somewhat melancholy at times.

September 21-23 California and Beyond

I have been to southern California now a number of times and I just don’t get it.  It must be the small town southern genes that I carry.  I mean why don’t they number the exits on I-40?  It would be so much easier on out-of-towners.  Why is their gas $3.25 when the rest of the world is $2.25 or so?  The freeways were terrible here in 1968 and they have built about 25 more freeways for 1,000,00 more cars.  A 30 minute drive to Dodger Stadium took over an hour and that was with normal traffic.  Why did the beautiful Hispanic attendant at Dodger Stadium have to put a blonde streak down the middle of her gorgeous black hair so that hear head looked like an oreo?

On the positive side:

The Santa Monica pier is an experience.  It is almost a hundred years and is chocked full of good restaurants, shops, and even an amusement park.  The feeling is laid back and there all kinds of street vendors doing paintings, sculpture, music, etc.  We spent a nice Thursday afternoon there, and on the beach dipping our toes in the Pacific.

Thursday I fulfilled yet another lifelong dream by going to Dodger Stadium.  When Don Wilson and I roomed together at U.N.C. I remember well sitting glued to little transistor radios trying to listen to the Dodgers play.  In those days we could only get them when they were playing a team East of StLouis because there was just no way to get reception further than that.  Wilson and I were about the only old Brooklyn Dodger fans hangng in there but we reveled at listening to Koufax or Drysdale pitch.  The park was all I had envisioned and it is hard to believe it is now the 4th oldest major league park.  Tommy Lasorda sat right in front of Nancy.  Well, actually he was 40 rows closer to the field but he was still right in front of my wife.  We got a picture.  The Dodgers won and that was the icing on the cake.

Yesterday, Friday, we made the trip from Santa Monica to Las Vegas where we are until Sunday when we begin the serious drive back.  This is certainly a different world from Mother Road.  It cost me more to get from my car to the room than my room cost at the Wigwam Motel.

But although different it is still a lot of fun.  Upon the advice of friend Jeannie we went to see a show last night called Love which is a Cirque de Soleil presentation based on Beatles music.  It was great.  Tonight we are going to another recommended show called Mystique.  It will have to go some to be better than the Beatles.

This morning, again upon the advice of friends, this time my buddy Wilson, we drove over to Hoover Dam and it is, in my opinion, the man-made equivalent ot the Grand Canyon.  It is an unparallelled engineering feat that was accomplished over 70 years ago.

I just spent an hour playing blackjack and ended up exactly even so I count that as free entertainment.  I also count it as lucky and I’m staying away while I am even.

I gotta get off of here because they are charging me a $1/minute to use the Internet.  God I love the free enterprise system.

Talk with all of you soon.  ETA in Hartsville is Thursday or maybe Friday but I’ll be on here when it’s free again.

Life is Good….although currently expensive.

Septemeber 20 – Trails End

Nancy and I agree that if you try to drive 66 from California to Chicago somewhere around Pasadena you would just turn around and go back home.

We left Barstow this morning with only 125 miles left to drive.  The first 50 miles or so were countryside and I will admit that knowing we were ending this saga made me drive a little slower and linger a little longer at the various stops along the way. 

Then..

It happened..

We hit the LA area and drove through some 15 suburbs and at least 84,239 lights all of which sadistically turned red as I approached.  When I forced my way through  one intersection on a questionable yellow light Nancy screamed “What are you doing” and I just muttered words not for the young under my breath.

Bottom line: this pathetic little trip of 125 miles took 5 hours to complete.

But…

We are here in Santa Monica.  The famous pier is just down the street and the marker for the end of the Mother Road, with Nancy and I beside, is tucked away in our cameras along with a spectacular sunset over the Pacific.

The journey is over.  The sights could be seen have all been seen.  The dream I have had for low these many years is complete.

What’s that Nancy? Oh yeah.  We do have that drive back to South Carolina.

We will be here in Santa Monica today and tomorrow. NOTE TO UNCLE HAL: We will be at Dodger Stadium tomorrow night so watch the T.V. and if we see you we’ll wave.

Friday we head for Las Vegas for two days and then: turn on the afterburners we’re headed home.

If you have enjoyed reading this diary stay tuned as I wax poetic and philosophic on my feelings about the this trip, the road and all it has meant to us in these last 10 days.

Tonight we indulged on a wonderful filet, some very special petite shiraz and as I gazed in to the eyes of a most special woman…

Nancy said, “quit staring at that blonde.”

Life is Good but sometimes precarious.

September 18 (cont.) and 19 – When Last We Spoke

I was standing on a corner…okay enough of that.

Let me give you the two other major highlights from yesterday.

First, after leaving Winslow we ran for the most part down I-40 to Meteor City, home of the Meteor Crater.  This site is spot where some 50,000 years ago a meteorite 150 feet across and weighing several hundred thousand tons struck the earth.  The resulting upheaval was cataclysmic for this part of the world and changed the eco-structure for eons to come.  The site is important because it is the first one on earth where it was scientifically proven that an object from outer space had struck the earth.  It is the template for testing all other sites on earth for suspected cosmic hits.  To see the crater is to get the impression that you are walking on the face of the moon.  The floor is 550 from the rim and the circumference is large enough to allow 20 football games to played simultaneously across the floor while 2 million spectators watch around the walls and rim.  It is all the adjectives I used up before and then some.

From Meteor City we proceeded on to down a combination of 66 and 40 to Williams and then 50 miles north to the south rim of the Grand Canyon.  Now, having been twice to the north rim and having heard about the commercial atmosphere of the south rim, I was somewhat skeptical about this visit.  Indeed, there is a lot more business of all nature here as compared to the north; more rooms, places to eat, helicopter and airplane trips in to the canyon.  None of this, however, distracts from the magnificence of this natural wonder.  The Grand Canyon is just that and, in my opinion, it is the number one natural wonder of this country.  Neither words nor photographs do it justice.  One little perk offered on the south rim you don’t get on the north is the opportunity to ride a bus to the various overlooks.  You can get off, stay as long as you like and catch another bus that goes to different viewing area.  The buses come along every 10 minutes or so and it is in a part of the canyon where cars are not allowed.  We did this and it was a lot more efficient than wandering around on your own.

After that it was back Williams, AZ and the end to another day.

Highlights: The Grand Canyon wins hands down although the Wigwam was a distant second.

Today we left Williams after my Internet cafe interlude (need to talk to the folks at the Midnight Rooster about this) and headed down I-40 for about 25 miles.  We left 40 at Ash Fork, AZ for the start of 156 uninterrupted driving on the Mother Road.  Now this was in itself a slice of heaven.  There was no sign of the super-slab and for more miles than I can count the only sign of civilization was the passing of a train.

A Sidebar:  I had no idea that so much freight in this country still traveled by rail.  We have seen more train traffic in the least 10 days than I probably have seen in a lifetime, and I mean huge trains, many taking four engines to pull the cars.  I believe we read that one town in Arizona has a train coming through there on an average of every ten minutes.

Most of the towns listed on this route are just memories; a broken down old building or two and no sign of human habitation, a comment on the effect of the interstate highway system.

Just out of Cool Springs you begin a 4-5 mile treacherous climb to the top of Sitgreaves Pass.  There is one hairpin turn after another and no sign of guardrails as the canyon floor gets lower and lower.  Around one of the turns we happened upon a family of wild burros whose ancestors had carried miners equipment through the gold fields and who were left, over time to fend for themselves, which they have apparently quite well.

From the pass you descend an equal distance to the town Oatman once a mine town but now tourist attraction compete with fake shootouts and burros you can feed carrots.  We kept driving.  This exhilarating road runs out just before you reach the California state line.

We climbed back on I-40, crossed the Colorado River and were in California.  Now. I have been to California several times over the years and it has some beautiful places to see.  This stretch through the Mojave Desert ain’t one of them.  The Road goes ever on and on.  You can literally see a good five mile ahead and behind, and on all sides around you is brown.  Brown everywhere.  No towns, no plants, no animals, just brown.  The rest of our day amounted to just racking up miles.

Tonight we are in Barstow, CA and tomorrow we will reach the end of this journey.  I face it, as you can imagine, with emotions mixed.  It has been a grueling trip but one in which everyday has been fresh and new with something to whet a curious appetite.

Highlight of the Day: The 156 mile trail through the wilderness.

Talk to you tomorrow from Santa Monica.

September 17 & 18 – Someone Please Send Me An Adjective

Wonderful!  Beautiful!  Stupendous!  Awesome!  Awe Inspiring!  Breathtaking!  Gorgeous!  Incredible!  OMG!!  In the last two days I’ve said all of these and more so many times that I’ve run them dry.  So someone please help and send me some more adjectives, I’ve run out.

Albuquerque sent us on our way with 10 beautiful hot air balloons floating lazily across the cloudless high desert sky.  It was quite a sendoff.  I am sure they were for Nancy and me to enjoy and had nothing to do with the State Fair that was going on.  We crossed the Rio Grande and headed up a steep slope called Nine Mile Hill, so named because the top of it is exactly nine miles from the center of the city whose name I have hard time spelling.

From that point we entered one of those wonderful stretches of the road where the feeling is that you are the only one anywhere for hundreds of miles.  The landscape encloses you so much that at one point called, believe it or not, Dead Man’s Curve, you feel you can reach out and touch the rock buttes just outside your window.  Then only a few mile further the land suddenly opens up and the vistas seem to go on for hundreds of miles.  Off to the South seemingly growing out of the cliffs is the Santa Maris de Acuoma Church.

At Grants, NM we took off on one of our side trips to Bandera Volcano and Ice Cave.  We were once again rewarded for our efforts.  This area of New Mexico is Called El Malpais, or the The Badlands, and it is the last known lava flow area in the continental United States occurring thousands of years ago.  We walked to the top of Bandera volcano and saw the collapsed cone of the volcano.  From there we walked to the Ice Cave, a spot some ways down from the cone that maintains a constant temperature of 31 degrees regardless of outside conditions.  This occurs due to the cave being surrounded by the lava flow that acts as an insulator to the trapped air inside the cave.

Pushing on we crossed the continental divide near Thoreau, NM at an elevation of 7,263 feet and entered Arizona going for a number of miles through the Navajo Indian Reservation.

We finished Sunday with a 28 mile drive through the Painted Desert – Petrified Forest National Park.  Here is where I started running out of adjectives.  Everything you have ever heard about this area doesn’t explain it.  The multi-hued Painted Desert jumps out at you just a few miles off of I-40 and the oddity of petrified wood is just awesome.  Again a side trip well worth the extra miles.

After one of our longest days we rolled in to Holbrook, AZ for our night at the Wigwam Inn.  This motel chain was an integral part of Route 66, at one time boasting 7 locations.  The concept is a series of individual motor lodge units in the shape of an Indian teepee.  Now I tell you, before we ever drove the first mile this stop was one of my “must do’s” and one of Nancy’s “ain’t sure about this”.  It turned out to be very okay.  In fact the motel is on the National Registry of Historic Places.  The room was tight but well thought out and we were comfortable with the two doubles.  Probably the closest spot was the shower.  If you drop the soap you better be able to squat, cause there ain’t room to bend over.  However, if you have ever been on a cruise you could cope with this.  I got a chance to spend some time with Mr. Lewis, the owner, and sonof the original owner who came up with this concept.  This location was the next-to-the-last to be built in the late ’40’s and one of only two left on 66.  The other is in California.  A bonus is Mr. Lewis’s back room in the office where he has original route 66 signs, a large arrowhead collection, some beautiful examples of petrified wood and a number of photographs of the Petrified Forest taken by his brother.

Monday morning we left our wigwam with temperatures in the lower ’30’s.  Neither of us gave any thought to this area being cold, in fact we had wondered if it it wouldn’t still be too hot.  We have learned that high desert means just that, and even though it is a desert environment we are still at elevations that are the equivalent of Mount Mitchell or more.

Our first stop of the day was at Joe and Aggie’s Cafe for breakfast.  This is one of those places still common along 66 that are second or third generation owned and still surviving in spite of the passing of time and the interstate highway system.  Joe and Aggie’s is run by their son, daughter-on-law and grandchildren all on duty this morning.  I promise you can’t spend $20 on two people and the coffee is awe-inspiring (no that comes later)….Incredible.

We next stopped at the Jack Rabbit Trading Post, one of those places that used to be common to Route 66 but now has all but disappeared.  Think South of the Border advertising methods but only one building.  Mostly gone now, Jack Rabbit used to have billboards stretched along 66 for hundreds of miles.  The signs depicted a giant rabbit with the number of miles to go.  A sign still remains near the trading post with the aforementioned critter and huge letters proclaiming:HERE IT IS.  Of course all these places had to have a hook and Jack Rabbit’s is a giant plastic jack rabbit outside the gift shop.  Yes, of course, I had my picture taken on it,  You had to ask?

Now I’ve been waiting for almost two weeks to say this.  Later in the morning, “I was standing on a corner in Winslow, Arizona.”  And I was.  And there is a statue honoring the Eagles.  And there is a flatbed Ford (no girl).  And a giftshop that plays nothing but Eagles music all day long (shades of Elvis).  We also walked down the street while in Winslow and saw the La Posada Hotel, built in 1928 and currently being refurbished.  It has been the stopping place for movie stars and the likes of Albert Einstein in the past.  We put this down as a possible stop on the way home as a double is only $79 and the ambiance is so pre-depression.

WOW!  It is 7:30 AM Tuesday here and I haven’t even gotten to Meteor Crater, Grand Canyon, the bridge where Forest Gump was filmed, and so much more.  But we’ve got to get going.  I’ll finish up Monday and today, tonight, if I’m lucky.  I am writing this at an Internet cafe in Williams, AZ on the morning of the 19th as I am not having any luck lately with motels with computers.  

We hope to get to Needles Califirnia before the close of business today. 

Remember How Life is sooooo Good.

September 16 – If it’s Saturday it Must be Albuquerque

Albuquerque is one of those words that no matter how many times I spell it I still have to look it up to get it right.  At any rate that is where we are tonight after a good 300 mile trek today.

Now if you check a map it is only 200 miles but Route 66 prior to 1937  turned north at Santa Rosa and ran up to Santa Fe before descending to Albu …whatever.  We decided to take the longer route because the shorter one was just going down I-40.  It was probably one of our better decisions of the trip.  We were witness to some of the most breathtaking views we had ever seen.  To the North it seemed you could see a hundred miles and to the South huge mesas rose from earth to unbelievable heights.  In fact we passed over the highest point on Route 66 at the Glorieta Pass (7,500 feet).  We also had a chance to see the site of a Civil War battle that took place at a place called Pigeon Ranch.  Frankly I never thought about the Civil War taking place in New Mexico.

Santa Fe is absolutely breathtaking.  Route 66 follows the old Pecos Trial in to town and you are immediately impressed with how the old Spanish adobe architecture has been maintained throughout the city.  As soon as we saw Santa Fe we knew immediately we wanted to come back when we had more time.

So today I guess we got as much a feel of the West as we did of the Mother Road.

Blog Alert!! I probably will not be able to make an entry tomorrow as we are staying at the Wigwam Motel in Holbrook, Arizona.  For those of you who do not know this the Wigwama is a still surviving chain of motels that are concrete, formed in to the shape of wigwams.  I doubt they have a business center.

Staying at a Courtyard by Marriot tonight that is homebase for a women’s tennis tournament that is in Albuquerque this week.

Life remains quite Good.

September 15 – My, What a Blustery Day

Writing to you from the public library in Tucumcari, NM.

Texas may be second only to Alalska in size but i terms of the Mother Road it is second only to Kansas for fewest miles having only 173.  Therefore we left Elk City, OK about 8 this morning and by 5 had reached this point in New Mexico.

The road today ran mostly along I-40 with only a few opportuniites to diverge away from the superslab.  However when we did have that opportunity the views were nothing short of fantastic.  We did have a chance to drive about 8 miles of old “dirt 66″ (a portion that was never paved)  between McLean and Alanreed, Texas.  It was amazing on those stretches away from the interstate just how quiet it all was; just the sound of our engine and the tires against the pavement.  A couple of times when we stopped I just sat there for a minute or two enjoying the moment.

We had lunch at the Big Texan in Amarillo.  This place is like a tiny South of the Border advertising a free 72oz. steak to anyone who can eat it in an hour along with a salad, baked potato, shrimp cocktail and roll.  It also has an old ’50’s motel that has been refurbushed to resemble an Old West street scene.  The swimming pool is shaped like the state of Texas.

In Adrian, TX we passed the half-way point to the end of 66.  As best we can estimate we shoulod be in Santa Monica around Wednesday of next week, but if something good comes along, wh knows.

For the better part of the day we all alone on the road.  When we wnated to see something or check the guide we just stopped in the road and took our time with no worry about other vehicles.  After all in a lot places we could easily see several miles in front and behind us.  We began with the farmland of Oklahoma, transitioned to the flat plains of Texas and, tonight are in the sahdow of Tumcumcari Mountain, one of the most distinctive outcroppings in New Mexico.

Highlights of the day: 1) Seventy mile an hour speed limits on parts of the old road in Texas, 2) The drive on “Dirt 66″, 3) The Barbed Wire Museum in McLean, TX (Nancy took my picture wearing a barbed wire hat), 4) The largest cross in the western hemisphere (190′) in Groom, TX and my favorite:

The Cadillac Ranch in Amarillo.  Ten vintage cadillac’s buried nose down and tail fins high in the middle of a field.  They are covered with graffitti as part of the “artwork” and the gr

September 14 – That Ribbon of Highway

We headed out of Tulsa early this morning with the promise of another gorgeous day.  That promise was indeed fulfilled and long before we reached Oklahoma City the top was down and the Beach Boys were pumping out California Girls on the radio.

As we rolled through the Oklahoma countryside I could not help but think of Woody Guthrie’s line: “As I was walking that ribbon of highway”.  We spent a lot of the day on some of the original Portland Concrete slabs that had been laid down when our Fathers were children.  The landscape was rolling hills and as you crested one hill you could see a the slender ribbon of brown highway undulating at least a mile ahead.

This country also belongs to Steinbeck and the Joad family of The Grapes of Wrath.  The Dustbowl Okies who migrated along this same road to the faux promised land of California.  In fact we saw two places today where parts of this 1940 movie were shot.  Today the land looks lush and rich and the farmlands prosperous, quite a change frim that tragic period in history.

We took an hour this afternoon to go through a corn maze.  Neither of us had ever done anything like that before.  I got to tell you Nancy cheated.  She took a map of the maze with her.  Of course I think we’d still be there if we did not have the map.  We talked a while with the farmer who owns the land and he said they usually have around 15,000 people go through the maze during the two months (September and October) that he has it opened.  At $6 bucks a pop he is doing alright.

We have been amazed at gas prices.  Before we left home this was one of our concerns.  However we actually filled up this morning for $2.19/Gallon and actually saw one location at $2.09.  Nice surprise.

Highlight of the day: Near Depew, OK along the route in the actual middle of nowhere is a tree filled with cast off shoes.  Evidently at some point in the past a traveler decided to tie his worn out shoes on a limb of a tree just off the road.  the idea caught on and now there must be a hundred pair of shoes hanging from the tree.

The concrete in the highway we rode on today was put down in sections so that there is a joint between each section.  As your tires hit each joint it makes a distinctive, rhythmic “thunk” sound.  I hadn’t heard that sound in a long time but it took me right back to my childhood and trips to Carolina Beach with Mama and Daddy, going to sleep in the backseat to that consistent thunk, thunk, thunk, knowing that they were there, all was fine

and

Life was Good

September 13 – What a Difference a Day Makes

We left Springfield this morning with temperatures in the lower ’50’s but the sun shining bright.  By 10 it was top down and moving.  We finished off Missouri, ran through the 13 miles in Kansas and are resting tonight in Tulsa, OK.  Great day.

It turns out that Route 66 is not just a single road, but rather a series of sections that were created at different times in the life of the road.  Therefore sometimes we are on the 1920’s alignment, sometimes the ’30’s or forties, etc.  Today we had the chance in Kansas to drive a couple of miles on a paved section that actually predates Route 66, dating back to 1922.  When 66 was later commissioned this section became part of the Mother Road.  The neat thing about it is that the road is only 9 feet wide  with about 2 feet gravel shoulders on each side.  I could imagine the confusion when a farm cart met a flivver on this section of the road.

We had lunch in Kansas at a restaurant called The Cafe on Route 66.  This building had originally been a bank, and one that Jesse James and Cole Younger had robbed.  We had seen this place on the DVD Jeannie W. had given us, and low and behold recognized the owner who gratiouslyagreed to have her picture made with me in front of the mural outside the restaurant.

Upon entering Oklahoma I felt forthe first time we were in the West.  We saw mile after mile of extremely flat land, huge cattle ranches and farms, and just plain old wide open spaces.

There were so many highlights today it is hard to remember all of them but a sampling: 1) The ruin of the oldest gas station on Route 66, 2) A house in Chelsea, OK built in the 1918 that had been bought from Sears and assembled in Chelsea, 3) The Buffalo Ranch in Oklahoma, 4) The largest totem pole in the world (90′) in Foyle, OK 5) A statue in Foyle to Andy Payne who won the Bunion Derby in 1928 by running Route 66 from California to Chicago, 6) The Big Blue Whale in a defunct swimming lake in OK,  and, 7) (my personal favorite) a sculpture in front of a gas station in Maxville Mo. that depicts a WWI flying ace sitting on a winged manure wagon.  The work is entitled “The Crap Duster”.

Life is not only good it is, at times, very funny.