Day Thirteen

Well, this is it. The last day on Route 66. I started the day by returning to snap a couple of pictures of the El Rancho in Barstow, where I failed to spend the night and purchased the beer can airplane the previous evening. Apparently this entire hotel was constructed from railroad ties.



Cool sign along the road.


Obviously this one caught my attention, so I decided to stop for (a very yummy) breakfast. There's no real Holland connection, it was the first owner's last name.



Hummingbird feeders! I don't think I'd ever seen a hummingbird in real life, at least not outside a zoo.






I like the graffiti head.


Victorville CA.



After crossing the mountains the weather went south; gloomy and cold. Again, unused westbound lanes roadbed running alongside the current two lane road.


Of course I had to see what was past this.


Nothing much apparently but the end of the road, with the freeway that replaced it running in the background.


Some pictures heading into San Bernadino, which as a town does not appear to have a single redeeming quality I could discover. Many of the old motels seem to still be in use, some residential, some as motels, although none of them appeared to have any activity.






Trademark dispute anyone?



Bad (snapped while driving) pic of a cool sign. Almost in Pasadena now.


A very rare Citroen SM, an old French coupe with a Maserati engine. A friend's dad used to own one, but it was neat seeing one in the U.S.


I MADE IT!


Palm trees... The weather cleared up just as I was heading into Santa Monica, which was a great relief as I would not have wanted to end the trip under a steel gray sky.



Hmm, the light isn't quite right.


The Will Rogers (for whom Route 66 is named) plaque at the end of the road.


There are some beautiful vintage hotels along the waterfront in Santa Monica.


Obligatory into-the-sunset-palm-tree-pic.


After sitting in the car for a while and then chugging a Patron margarita on the pier, the lights come on.


And so the main leg of the trip ended, and what an amazing adventure it was. The whole journey turned out to be much more interesting than I had expected setting out from Chicago two weeks earlier. From restored little vintage gas stations to the ruins in Jericho TX, from the Grand Canyon to goofy little motels, I feel like I succeeded in capturing some of the spirit of the old road.

Only time will tell what will become of many of the things I saw along the way (except for the Grand Canyon, presumably that's here to stay). There were many more old buildings still standing than I had expected. Living in a big city where an empty structure is either put to a new use or bulldozed, I was astounded. Many of the buildings seemed ready to fall down - with little economic incentive for anyone to restore them.

As with many other wonderful things in the world, their fate is a paradox. Only tourism can save them, but the same tourists who could bring investment to some of these forgotten and blighted areas will also either ruin their decrepit charm or turn them into a Disneyesque parody of themselves. Luckily, this seems natural and right. The old road was lined with gaudy tourist traps, and any resurgence in people taking the Great American Road Trip would only bring about more of the same.

The decay I take joy in observing is not a natural state, and if it continues little will be left of this intriguing stretch of modern American history in ten or twenty years. If it is reversed, we will have a new version to enjoy of the garish, twenty four hundred and eighty eight mile long theme park that Route 66 was once. Whichever comes to pass, I am grateful to have had the opportunity to drive the old road and catch a glimpse of America as it once was.

I will post some pictures tomorrow night from the Bay Area and the trip back for friends and family, but for those of you that are interested in Route 66 this will be the last post of interest. Thanks for coming along with me, and get out there and drive it yourself before it's gone!

Day Twelve

Almost there! This was the second to last day of Route 66, and it was nice to be back on the road after my side trips to Phoenix and the Grand Canyon.

After all that camping and walking I started off the day with a fantastic breakfast at Goldie's Route 66 Diner in Williams AZ.



Cooper Tires! My family's from Findlay OH...






These were all over the place. I know they're not historic, but they are funny.






G@%&^~n hippies!


Seligman AZ. The famous Snow Cap is there, but I was disappointed to find the entire town dolled up like some Disney version of a run down Route 66 town. Moreover, it was full of tour buses. What kind of person would want to see Route 66 in a TOUR BUS? I snapped a few pics and escaped.


The Snow Cap, unfortunately closed.




Mmmmm. Dead chicken.


Mmmmm. Burgers.


Seligman.



Operational service station at Grand Canyon Caverns.


Not so operational service station.


Truxton AZ.



I wonder how the Exxon Corporation feels about this sign?


Another abandoned motel.


With an intriguing Hungarian plaque.




Apu lives here!



The old General Store in Hackberry.







Very strange place. Some type of motel or trailer park, the owners of which obviously had an alien fascination of some sort.







Kingman AZ, as in Kingman, Barstow, San Bernadino.



The Hill Top Motel. I bought a picture book from the owner's wife and she signed it for me.



I don't know why, but I am in love with this parasol.





I guess this is the hotel's former dining or ball room.


It's actually (still?) called Route 66 (again?) in a number of places.


Funky diner in Kingman.







The original route follows the train tracks for the most part, there is a strong connection between Route 66 and transcontinental railroads.



Between Kingman and Oatman.


They are building NEW cabins. It was very odd to see construction after all the decay I've seen.



The mysterious and uninviting Ed's Camp (no trespassing signs everywhere, I had the distinct feeling I would get shot if I went any closer).


The drive from Kingman to Oatman over the old Gold Road is beautiful.




A deserted mining shack. According to the owner of the Hill Top Motel the hole in the roof is from some idiot tourist climbing on the roof. Apparently he had to dig his way out. Near Darwin Award!


The very odd town of Oatman AZ. It's an old mining town that now features mock gunfights in the streets and wild descendants of the original mining donkeys.





I can think of a couple of bars in Chicago that should be called this...


The Oatman Hotel, 106 years old.


The room in the hotel where Clark Gable and Carole Lombard spent (part?) of their honeymoon.



Before the miners used to go underground they would tack a dollar bill to the wall with their name on it so they would be entitled to a beer when they came back out of the mine after three days. The tourists have continued the tradition and there are well over 50,000 bills on the wall now.



Of course I had to add one too.


Nice t-shirt.


More abandoned mining structures.



The famous wild burros of Oatman.



Snowcone?! Sounded pretty good, it was HOT.



I really like these old gas pumps.


Detail.


You remember these guys, Wesley!


A service station that apparently has been converted into a church of some stripe.


Hilarious!


Welcome to California.


And welcome to California again.


My friend the BNSF, coming out of the Mojave Desert.


Needles CA, gateway to the Mojave. The desert was the last major obstacle to overcome for old time travelers. The crossing was often made at night to spare beat up old cars.







Detail of the El Garces train station and hotel, currently under restoration.



What IS it with couches and the desert?! They're everywhere!


Interior of an abandoned building. Boots and pans still on the stove.




This was a stange little place in the desert. Apparently it's some type of protest site.


The creators of which do not appear to share my love for anything hand built, Italian, and FAST.


I am at a complete loss here.





Amboy Crater.









Watch out buddy! This is the second time I almost ran over a tortoise in the desert, so I had to get out and chat with him for a little bit about his road crossing technique.



This is not the original Bagdad Cafe if I am correct. The movie was filmed around here somewhere.



Angry window!



Driving through Dagget I spotted a sign for "Calico Ghost Town" and decided to investigate. It turns out it's an actualy deserted mining town that has been turned into a mini amusement park. I arrived after closing and wandered the deserted streets for a while. Strange sensation to be in a ghost town amusement park that is actually a ghost town. Used a dark and deserted restroom and then beat a hasty retreat.


I arrived in Barstow CA in the evening, and the only historic motel that looked worth staying at was the El Rancho. I couldn't find anyone in the office and nobody answered the night bell or phone, so I decided to drive around the motel and then leave. All of a sudden a man carrying a red airplane appeared and said "I make airplanes out of beer cans." "That's what I do," he said. He introduced himself as John Bates and showed me his collection. He uses only a pair of scissors, glue, and a pair of needlenose pliers to make them. They have a little battery and the propellors actualy spin. Of course I had to buy one. It is a little worse for wear after being in the passenger seat of the convertible, so I will have to email John and get some maintenance and repair guidance.

Days Ten and Eleven

Days ten and eleven were consumed by a hike down into the Grand Canyon, all the way to the Colorado River and the canyon floor. There were no camping permits available, so I scored a permit to bunk in a dorm at the Phantom Ranch at the bottom. I took the Kaibab South trail down and Bright Angel back up the next day. Kaibab is about six miles with a mile vertical drop, which took about four hours. Bright Angel is just under ten miles with a mile vertical climb and took a bit over six. For those of you who live in Chicago, the hike out of the canyon was like walking downtown from Oak Park and then climbing the Sears Tower four times. Pretty brutal but totally worth it. The Grand Canyon is just the most amazing place...

The South Kaibab trail down.


Note the path zigzagging all the way down that big rock formation.


I thought it might be a condor, but upon closer inspection it turns out it's just a raven.


A mule train coming in the opposite direction. As a tourist you can ride a mule down into the canyon, but mules are also the only way to get supplies, luggage, mail, and pretty much anything else to the canyon floor.




Halfway down, at Skeleton Point.











Finally! The bridge across the river off in the distance! There are two bridges that cross the Colorado here at the bottom. Both are used by hikers, only this one is used by the mules. They can see through the bottom of the other one and categorically refuse to cross it. The steel suspension cables for this bridge are 168 meters long, and had to be carried down on the shoulders of men as it was impossible to get them down by mule. Makes you grateful for your desk job.




Tired and dusty.


Getting closer...



The Colorado, from eye level at last.



The Silver Bridge just after dawn the next morning.


One last look at the Colorado.


The morning sun starting to hit the upper parts of the canyon.














Another mule train, this one headed down.


Camp back up on the rim, and a gorgeous sky.





The Official Phantom Ranch Paper Brain. Food! Shelter! Maslow's hierarchy in action... My needs that evening were quite different and are reflected by my paperweights.

Days Eight and Nine

As I mentioned in my previous post, days eight and nine were spent in and around Phoenix, and driving up to the Grand Canyon. For those of you that are reading this blog out of interest in Route 66 rather than in my comings and goings, this post and the next may be entirely uninteresting. Tomorrow I am heading back to the Route, so relevant pictures will resume the post after next.

First of all some pictures from a drive through the Superstition Mountains. Sepcifically we were following the old (unpaved, yes even on my day off) Apache Trail.

Funniest sign ever considering I grew up outside Amsterdam.


The first of several beautiful lakes.


Read this. No, seriously. Read this.












Roosevelt Dam, when first completed in 1911 the largest stone dam in the world. The original masonry arch has now been replaced by a concrete gravity arch.


Stephanie (disclaimer: I didn't actually take this picture, it's from the day after I left)


Passed through Sedona on the way back to Flagstaff and the Grand Canyon.





I remember staying here as a kid!





The Little Colorado River Gorge, gateway to the Grand Canyon.



First views of the Canyon...









These were just some first shots of the Canyon, all taken from the rim. The combined post for days ten and eleven will include many shots from inside...

Day Seven

Day Seven was a lot of fun! I think Arizona has to be one of the coolest states on Route 66, with beautiful scenery, silly buildings and other stuff, national parks, you name it. Right now I am sitting in a lodge in Grand Canyon National Park, and just scored a permit to hike down into the canyon and back up the next day. I was on the waiting list, so I had to show up at 6:30 to see if my name was called. Anyway, back to Day Seven. After leaving Gallup NM I drove as far as Flagstaff on the Route, and then headed south to Phoenix for some much needed R&R. I hung out with my friend Stephanie in Phoenix, who was an awesome host and took me for a drive through the beautiful Superstition Mountains. Pictures of that to follow in the next post.

An old fighter (F4?) outside Gallup Municipal Airport.


Defunct tourist store.


A cool old bridge over Querino Canyon, on a now-unpaved section of the route.



Some ruins at the east end of the bridge.


Another abandoned gas station.



And an old sign. Mmm. Martinis.


Reach out and touch someone.


A couple of picturesque wrecks.





The (open for business) Apple Dumplin.


Arizona's Painted Desert.


Historic Painted Desert Lodge.


More Painted Desert.






Leaving Painted Desert National Park and crossing over into the adjacent Petrified Forest National Park I ran into a little Route 66 memorial. It had this old car and a plaque with a pretty good little text on 66. I quote:

"You are standing near old Route 66. The line of the roadbed and the telephone poles in front of you mark the path of the famous "Main Street of America" as it passed through Petrified Forest National Park. From Chicago to Los Angeles, this heavily traveled highway was not only a road. It stood as a symbol of opportunity, adventure, and exploration to travelers.

A trip from Middle America to the Pacific could take about a week - no interstate speeds here! For many, the journey was not just across miles, it was across cultures and lifestyles - from the most mundane to the exotic. Of course, getting to your destination was important, but the trip itself was a reward. From the neon signs of one-of-a-kind motels to burgers and chicken fried steaks of the multitudes of restaurants, from the filling stations that served as miniature oases to gaudy tourist traps, these mote than 2,200 miles of open road were magical.

Gaze down the long road and listen. You may hear echoes of the past - echoes of Route 66."


Evil Trees!


A familiar sight, far from home.


Newspaper Rock. Natives carved these petroglyphs into the rocks many years ago to keep one another abreast of the latest news.



More of Petrified Forest NP.



The Agate Bridge. An arroyo formed below this petrified Agate tree when the softer soil washed out from underneath it.













Wacky dinosaurs and an old trading post in Holbrook AZ.




The Wigwam Motel, also in Holbrook. The Cozy Cone in Cars was based on this motel.






Driving.


I have seen WAY too many of these signs. My car hates me.


I think this was part of a campground.


The famous Jackrabbit Trading Post.






The Falcon Restaurant. Had fantastic quesadillas in this vintage diner (in business since 1955).





Meteor Crater AZ, the first proven meteor crater in the world and former Apollo program training site.



This is a REALLY long shot of the little square you see in the middle of the crater in the previous photo. Note the waving astronaut.


Ruins at Two Guns AZ. This town has a weird little history, which is related here.


While poking around here I ran into a guy who told me he remembered passing through here as a kid and seeing mountain lions, coyotes, and snakes all cooped up in cages. I asked him whether they did shows or anything, and he said "nah, they just kind of suffered."



One of the mountain lion enclosures.



And, uh, a couch.


Old bridge in "Don't Forget" Winona.

Day Six

Most of Wednesday was spent driving through dust storms and featureless desert, so there are not that many exciting pictures. One of the high points of the day, car nerd that I am, was the Route 66 Auto Museum in Santa Rosa NM. I also figured out what to do with the jerrycan of gasoline; some lady flagged me down outside a gas station and started some story about not having enough money to get home, so I handed her the can of gas and drove off. Problem solved! I also visited the Pueblo ruins at Pecos National Historical Monument, which was really cool. The ruins are of a native village with a Spanish mission church. Originally from the 1500's, the villagers revolted and burnt it to the ground. The remains you see in the pictures are of a rebuilt version from the 18th century. I spent Wednesday night in another cool vintage motel, the El Rancho in Gallup NM.

Cold beer!


This abandoned store looks to be older than most of the ones I've encountered along the road.


This is actually a functioning post office, believe it or not. I think it is in Cuervo NM.


Old gas truck. Note the Phillips 66 logo on the door.


The Route 66 auto museum.





My car's mommy!





Diner in Santa Rosa.


The old Club Cafe, also in Santa Rosa.


The road goes on and on.


Nice.


Jerrycan Lady.

My way and the highway, running side by side again.


Snowcaps in the distance!


The ruins at Pecos. This is a reconstructed "kiva," a native ceremonial room.



The remains of the Spanish mission at Pecos.







This is a very old stretch of road running down La Bajada Hill, which I hiked up as the road was only passable by 4x4. Look at the switch backs and imagine driving down this in a 1920's car with leather brakes. Must have been terrifying.


Is this a piece of someone's car that didn't make it?


Budville Trading Post.


The El Rancho in Gallup.

Day Five

Ah! Comfort! AC! Bed! Shower that you don't have to wear flip-flops in! I am sitting at the writing table in my adorable motel room at the vintage 1939 Blue Swallow Motel in Tucumcari NM. It's a lot more comfortable than the KOA laundry rooms from the last couple of days, I tell you. The Blue Swallow, along with the Wigwam Motel in Holbrook AZ, is one of two motels I was excited about staying at as they're both historic Route 66 motels. Part of the experience!

Anyway, this has been an interesting day. After visiting the ghost town of Glenrio, I missed a "this road is about to turn from pavement to gravel and angle sharply to the left for good measure" sign, and almost spun out. After several harrowing seconds I got the car back under control and got out for an emergency cigarette and to see what the hell that sign back there said. Walking back to the car I encountered a toothless yokel, sorry, local, who told me her truck was out of gas and her husband was waiting by it.

I had room nor inclination to give her a ride, so I said I would drive up and see what was going on. Anyway, her equally toothless husband muttered something about gas as well, and I was now faced with a moral dilemma. Leave them in the sweltering heat on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere, or try to help. Sucker that I am, I promised to find a gas station and bring back a couple of gallons of fuel. Anyhoo, I ended up driving almost twenty miles to the nearest (?) gas station, that of course did not have a jerrycan. Luckily the one across the freeway did, so I finally managed to obtain a can of gas and drive the twenty miles back, only to find that the truck and its inhabitants had vanished into thin air. That's an hour of my life and twenty bucks I'll never see again.

Now I am stuck with a two gallon jerrycan on my passenger seat. Problem is, I don't have room for it and chain smoke while driving, but I have this karmic feeling that the second I throw it away I will need it desperately. Poll: do I throw the two gallons of gas in the car and pitch the jerrycan, risking certain death in the desert from some yet-to-be-determined cause involving lack of a jerrycan, or do I drive around with a fuel-air bomb baking next to me in the southwestern sun? Vote on the top right of the page; under the archive links.

On the way out of Amarillo, Ding How!


Nice to see one of these old-time businesses still in operation.


The Cadillac Ranch, creation of some eccentric Texas millionaire and the inspiration for the Cadillac (mountain) Range in Cars.



Roadrunner Drive-In, Vega TX.


Yes, it's another abandoned service station. Sorry.


Later, when the machines rule us, maybe he will remember me kindly.



Inside the restaurant next to the gas station.



I made it! The Midpoint Cafe, exactly halfway between Chicago and Santa Monica!


Fran Houser, in addition to being the inspiration for the character "Flo" in Cars, and the owner of the Midpoint Cafe, makes a mean omelet and the best apple pie on earth.


I signed the truck!


And no, that is NOT my comment about the cheese, although I wholeheartedly concur.


And so did Michael Wallis, who played The Sherrif in the movie.


Ghost town of Glenrio TX.




This would have said "First Motel in Texas," it's right by the New Mexico state line.


Sign that says, "Hey, I'm turning to pavement now." Its friend on the other side of the road was the one I should have heeded, but nobody shot that one up so you get a picture of this one.


Exciting skid marks. Note approaching Scary Vanishing Gas Bumming Wild Goose Chase Sending Lady in the background. And in case you're wondering, which you're not, this is actually an unpaved stretch of 66.


Dude! Shouldn't you be behind a fence or something?! Holy crap!


ICK! Note piece of shrubbery stuck in grille.


Daddy, bub-boo-bath! NOW! Apparently washing your own car is also part of the Route 66 experience; I haven't seen a single hand car wash since leaving Chicagoland. I scrub-a-dub-dubbed her, but there's no after pic.


The Blue Swallow Motel.


Totally vintage. Note the original bakelite phone from 1939.


Hey, I forgot! The camera has a remote! I get to be in some of my own pictures without having to explain my camera to a Swedish tourist!


Nice skies out west here.


Car tucked into a garage right next to the room, just as you've seen in some of the decrepit motels in previous pictures.


Boy am I glad that I splurged on a tripod today.