Route 66 - Chicago to LA

[clipped_wings]

After a hearty breakfast at Lou Mitchell's diner, we made our to the outskirts and took in the local scenery of greater Chicago.

The handsome and structured domain of the CBD gave way to more modest landscapes and we passed through various housing estates that looked like they'd been forgotten by the City. It would seem that this type of neglect is endemic to every city in the world. It was a sober reminder that Route 66 is a complicated portal that consists of many different social and economic layers.

We stopped at Dell Reah Chicken Basket around 11:30 for morning tea. I have never eaten "ol' fashioned American paah" before, so I was pretty psyched to try it. I chose apple/caramel/walnut. (one pie, not three) Now, either the lady heard me wrong, or my Aussie slang killed the interpretation. Because she brought me the whole pie. It was the size of a small child (we had to move things around for it to fit). Majestically topped with a wobbly tower of whipped cream that was straight out of Whoville. It looked like it had a heartbeat, because it would list to one side, before correcting itself.

I'm proud to say I attempted to eat the whole thing. I'm also proud to say I failed miserably. We packed the rest in a goodie bag and were soon on the road again.




Next stop was Joliet Prison, made famous by The Blues Brothers. A classic film. And Mr Clipped had brought his hat from Oz, just for this photo op.

Isn't it funny how a jail is scary, even if its closed? Alcatraz had the same impression. Joliet Prison may have been the backdrop for a comedy, but it totally creeped me out. All that barbed wire and crumbling bricks. I shot a few photos of Mr Clipped and hot footed it back to the car.



This mural was screaming out for a third Brother......



First prize for anyone who can find a cool name to go with Jake and Elwood.............





And that's the last we see of the little black hat.



The weather soon closed in and by the time we reached the Launching Pad in Wilmington, it was torrential. This is the Gemini Giant. He was part of a series of fibreglass statues built in the 60's for roadside business to capture the attention of passing traffic. We managed to take a photo of this little guy in the brief second between showers, but we missed actually going into the store.
Wonder why Mr Clipped is the only one in the photo? It's because I am under cover. Where it's warm and dry.



Further along we came to the small township of Odell IL. There are remnants of 1960's small town America everywhere. Some have been lovingly restored and are watched over by custodians such as Julie (pictured to the left in photo below). Like everyone we met, Julie zoomed in on our distinctive accent. It's the best conversation starter I can tell you. Before we knew it - we were completely engaged with her stories and giving each other a big hug. Julie was the first of many genuine and warm locals who devote themselves to making every traveller feel like they are family coming home.




Like me, it may be old and rusty. But it's still strong.


The signage in Illinois was pretty good. The Route was well posted and it's obvious there is a growing wave of reinvigoration. Not all States were easy to navigate though. Some of them were a little lapse and it was easy to lose your way. You need a good GPS system, a solid map or the Route 66 app to help you.


By 5pm we'd become weary and our first night "on the road" was Normal IL. We bunkered down at the Holiday Inn Express, just off route and conveniently opposite a gargantuan Walmart, where we stocked up on essential supplies. And by essential, I mean beer and snacks.


Tomorrow is Sunday and we head out for another long drive to St Louis, Missouri. And Mr Clipped has a surprise in store for me. CLUE: around 600,000 people visit this place each year..............

Stay tuned.

 

[Buzzard]

Really enjoying this TR @clipped_wings, a trip that +1 and I would like to do. You and Leroy, I mean Mr. Clipped, seem to be having an absolute ball.

 

[Milboo]

I know I’m not the only one disappointed by a lack of a photo of the pie!

 

[cove]

Santa Monica Pier is about 3 miles from us when we are in Marina del Rey so I am watching along with others.

 

[cjd600]

By 5pm we'd become weary and our first night "on the road" was Normal IL. We bunkered down at the Holiday Inn Express, just off route and conveniently opposite a gargantuan Walmart, where we stocked up on essential supplies. And by essential, I mean beer and snacks.

Hard to beat Walmart for beer and snacks at a happy price

 

[cjd600]

Oh, the little black hat might come back out if you choose to eat at Peggy Sue's Diner just out of Barstow, CA.
Just sayin'.

 

[JohnM]

Late aboard, but a vacant 1A seductively beckons....

 

[Straubs]

Great report, following with interest

 

[kookaburra75]

Oh, the little black hat might come back out if you choose to eat at Peggy Sue's Diner just out of Barstow, CA.
Just sayin'.

I was just thinking that - I'll have to dig out our photos of the diner from 10+ years ago. Really enjoying the write up

 

[JohnM]

Santa Monica Pier is about 3 miles from us when we are in Marina del Rey so I am watching along with others.

You could put a ribbon across for them to cut .

 

[cove]

We get there in November/December so the ribbon idea might slow down the drive JohnM.
It can be a lot of fun driving across America.

 

[Flying_man]

One timex digital watch, broken.
One unused prophylactic... one soiled.
One black suit jacket.
One pair black suit pants.
One hat, black.
One pair of sunglasses.
$23.07.
Sign here.

 

[clipped_wings]

Late aboard, but a vacant 1A seductively beckons....

Welcome aboard John. Sorry, but we've only got pork rinds for the inflight meal today

 

[clipped_wings]

We have a GPS that is showing age. Her name is Charlene. Homer Simpson called Bart's putter Charlene and the name has stuck ever since.

Charlene serves us well. Her calm, melodic voice is a symbol of assurance and she never gets angry when we go the wrong way. Sometimes we ignore her completely because we want to deviate from her well-intentioned instructions, but she always steers us back on course.

Until today. Poor Charlene. Her satellite link failed and we ended up on the wrong side of St Louis.

Nobody wants to be on the wrong side of St Louis. Clark Griswold found himself there in National Lampoon's Vacation. And look what happened to him.

Up until now, we had enjoyed a thoroughly successful morning, albeit a little damp. The rain made it harder to capture publication-worthy photos, but lots of milestones were ticked as we snaked our way along Route 66 through Shirley, McLean, Atlanta IL, Springfield. The opportunity to photograph each and every wreck alongside the road was irresistible. We were forever pulling up to immortalise rusty relics that were sitting quietly amongst the grasses in their forever home.



Abraham Lincoln once wrote a rather profound little speech. You may remember it. We found ourselves in Springfield IL and couldn't miss visiting his childhood home, which has been restored and preserved in an aesthetic that is very sympathetic to the time he lived. His memorial and tomb however, are a little garish in my opinion - and in direct contrast to Abe himself, who history dictates was a fairly humble man. If you persevere and walk further down a set of messy steps lined with unkempt grass behind the fancy monument - you will find a more appropriate and genuine grave site. It's simple and very reverent. Abe would have been pleased.

We detoured to PAWNEE because we love the sitcom Parks & Recreation. Like the nerds we are, we wanted to see anything that said Pawnee. The brief was fulfilled: we totally looked like nerds as we took selfies giggling in front of the Pawnee City Limits sign.

It must be noted for all future travellers along this Route, that nearly everything is closed on a Sunday. What the? On many occasions, we pulled up to a classic diner, only to find it shut. If it hadn't been for our stash of pork rinds, I'm sure we would have died out there.

Ok, too dramatic. But it was sad to approach many iconic Route 66 Roadside Attractions that were unavailable to actually experience. It ain't 1960 anymore folks and people travel all year round. Something the Route 66 Association needs to address, if they are looking to resurrect this as an inclusive holiday that is self sustaining.

We diverted off the road sometimes, just for the fun of it. We pulled up to photograph what we thought was a small business in Williamsville. It turned out to be a private garage. The owners name was Jason and he welcomed us in and offered the type of hospitality we had heard about in these parts. He showed us around his factory and the project cars/trucks he was undertaking. Mr Clipped is a huge classic car fan (hence this trip). The two of them chatted for an hour like a pair of old friends. Jason then loaded us up with fresh bottles of water and bid us a safe trip. Not before I snapped some precious memories:



Mr Clipped owned a rusty old 1946 Jailbar a few years ago. This baby isn't the same model, but it brought back memories of good times.



We maintained our excitement as we drove towards St Louis. Mr Clipped had especially wanted to see something called the Chain of Rocks Bridge, over the Mississippi River. We followed Charlene's instructions carefully and never questioned her ability to guide us safely around some of the more dangerous districts. But we trusted Charlene. She was on our side.

That side, however - turned out to be the wrong side of St Louis. We ended up getting totally lost. It was getting dark. Mr Clipped was getting cranky. And Charlene was starting to piss us off with her (now) condescending monotone voice.

Luckily, we navigated our way out and found a bridge. It wasn't the Chain of Rocks bridge. But it was a bridge. So we drove back and forth over it, nodded our heads and took the first exit to the CBD.

The Universe was realigned when we checked into the Hyatt Regency St Louis at the Arch. What a room! What a view! What a ROOM! Did I mention the room?



It was a gorgeous suite, literally right in front of the St Louis Arch. I could reach out and touch it. We dropped our bags and cantered down to the plaza where the sun was slowly setting over this incredible monolith. The Mississippi was rolling along and with her a small flotilla of dimly lit boats and barges. The Arch is a lot like Uluru. It took on a different personality as the light changed. She morphed from being a dark grey steel U bolt, to a chrome skinned mirror that reflected everything around her.

Lots of people stand back and photograph her in full. But my inner artist screamed for another perspective. So - I give you..........The St Louis Arch as seen in delightful abstract by me:



The evening fell - so we made our way back to the hotel and had a quiet supper in the sports bar. Ribs and Gumbo. Top notch I might add.

It was here that Mr Clipped casually remarked tomorrow's itinerary:

GRACELAND IN MEMPHIS!

 

[kermatu]

Thoroughly enjoying this TR. Looking forward to the rest of the journey.

 

[Milboo]

If you’re after coffee head to Lanai Coffee in St Louis.

 

[clipped_wings]

Love or hate him, everyone remembers The King. My mum and Aunt adored him, my dad tolerated him. Even our 14 year old son has parodied his style at some fancy dress party. I loved his daggy movies. There's no question - the man was a huge chick magnet. And he could sing. I remember when the news that he had died crackled over the coughpy radio in my Aunts house. She fell to her knees and cried more than a kid should ever hear a grown up cry.

So when Mr Clipped arranged a quick detour to Memphis, I was ecstatic. Visiting Graceland was one of those Bucket List items for me. But I never dreamed we would tick it off on this trip.

We hit the road early. It would be a 4 hour drive to Memphis, tracking down through Arkansas and into Tennessee. Mr Clipped seamlessly negotiated the Interstate and before we knew it - we were over the bridge and pulling up into the vast parking lot of Graceland Inc. Located on Elvis Presley Boulevard, across from Graceland itself - is a huge "land" dedicated to his life and times. It housed a massive car park, plus an outdoor concourse lined with diners, gift shops and public areas.

October is obviously a quiet month to visit. There were only a few hundred people attending today. They say that over 600,000 people visit each year. It has recently undergone a substantial renovation and I can't imagine how it must have handled huge crowds previously. I was always a little sceptical about how the Estate of Elvis Presley had been administered - especially Graceland. His ex wife Priscilla was responsible for much of its inception. And I was eager to see how awesome/tacky it all was.

The first thing that strikes you as you enter the concourse, is the sheer size of it. The second thing is exactly as I suggested. A little tacky. Like Disneyland had a brain fade. I think this was part of the original design, because I noticed the digital printed graphics were severely faded.

However, there is a brand new (2107) pavilion where you purchase tickets for the actual tour to his home. Ticket prices start at US47 pp for the basic tour and rise to over US200 pp for a VIP experience that included extras. All tickets allowed access to the home, airplanes and grounds of the mansion, so we couldn't justify the higher price. We chose the basic rate and were presented with an iPad and earphones for our self guided tour. We were treated to a really decent and humble preview in one of two small theatres. I was glued to the screen. I almost got a little teary - it was very well made and a wonderful prelude to the tour.

We were allowed to meander around this area before boarding the small buses that shuttle people non stop over the road to Elvis' home. I spotted the airplane and bolted down to this area first. There is a large plane and smaller jet housed here. Both are freely open to view. It was hysterical to witness the decor. Elvis was a victim of the 60's and 70's shag pile era. And these poor birds were plastered with it. Cabin floor, wall and ceilings. Lounge room, bedroom, bathrooms - all murky shades of olive green, partnered with a vile blue and mission brown. But this was the 70's and it was probably the height of fashion. Everything has been perfectly preserved and it was the highlight of my day to walk through them.



Next was the home itself. It stands amongst a generous acreage of mature trees and manicured gardens that are quite modest in scale by todays standards. It's all very tasteful and I could almost see an ordinary family living there. Inside you are guided by the app on your iPad, an audio tour hosted by John Stamos. The clever introduction of modern technology is a brilliant addition and it made the whole experience hugely satisfying with excerpts from actual conversations from Elvis and his daughter Lisa Marie. She sold off 85% of the business that operates the tours, but she retained full ownership of the home, estate and all possessions. It is like walking back through time. Still high tack and positively laughable with its furnishings.



But here's the biggest surprise: it is so modest in size. For a superstar like Elvis - this home is only 10,000 square feet, including outdoor studios, basements and additions. I've stayed in hotel rooms that are 2000 square feet - so that gives you an indication of how times have changed. It was obviously huge in its time, but it also must have represented a private sanctuary for Elvis when he returned home to his family - who all shared the house. There is no access to the whole upstairs floor - Elvis died in his bathroom and the family didn't want the public to focus on his death. Which is a poignant strategy. Also, an aunt still lived there and Lisa Marie will stay upstairs when she visits.

The grave site is beautiful. If I can use that word. It's simple, neat and incredibly quiet. (I have not shared a photo for personal reasons). People pass by with the kind of respect that would be afforded their own family member. Elvis may be gone, but his presence is alive and well in people who make this migration. I have seen less decorum at the 9/11 memorial in New York. Which is a very sad thing when you think about it.

My Mum, Dad and Aunt are probably hanging out with Elvis right now. For the rest of us mere mortals, I felt truly lucky to have walked the same hallways as he must have done a thousand times. It was not a spiritual homage. But something happens when you enter that home. I have a new appreciation for everything the Presley family has gifted to the people. It's an extraordinary display of generosity - despite the gate fee, which covers the substantial cost of maintaining such a popular business. You get way more than you pay for and I am eternally grateful to my husband for the opportunity to share it.

Next installment: Hurricane Michael, Kansas and Oklahoma City

 

[mrs.dr.ron]

I loved Gracelands - glad to see nothing has changed !

 

[ontheaisle]

I too was struck by the size of Graceland compared to its more modern counterparts when I visited some 10 years ago... and it definitely has a "vibe". Sounds like they've made a lot of improvements to help manage the flow of visitors, I remember it being a bit crazy trying to get in and get out.

 

[clipped_wings]

Our pilgrimage to Graceland over, we checked in to the Hampton Inn and wandered around the corner in search of some good ol' sounthern grub. We were close enough for easy walking access to Beale Street, which is renown for its music and neon signs.



As old school signwriters, Mr Clipped and I were eager to wander the street and soak up the vibe. We were not disappointed. There was an eclectic array of bright flashing signs, music seeping from every bar and some wild aerobatics by locals down the main drag. The scent of sweet sauce was enough to float us along to the Blues City Cafe, where we feasted on generous helpings of glazed ribs, coleslaw and gumbo with potato fries.

Remember that scene in the Flintstones, where Fred orders ribs and they bring the carcass of a woolly mammoth and it tips the car over? That's what it's like to order food in America. It's always twice as big and twice as much as your poor gut can process. We soldiered on and set about demolishing our meal. But Man V Food was a war we couldn't win tonight and we conceded defeat about halfway. Shamed by our lack of gusto, back in the street we went. I wished I could do cartwheels like those slim young athletes. But I was now as wide as I was tall, so I simply rolled back to the hotel and swallowed a pack of QuickEze.

Beale Street, or any street at night - can be as safe or as dangerous as you allow it to be. Walk alone along a dark alley and you are asking for the potential for trouble. Stay amongst the general population and you should be fine. Earlier that afternoon, we entered a small convenience store and were approached by a dude claiming to be fresh out of jail, looking for some start up money. Now there are two ways you can respond. Hand him money. Or not. We chose not. But we wished him well and calmly left the store. It's hard to distinguish someone in genuine need, from someone looking to profit from your obvious tourist wallet. We donated to every school/scouts/cake drive we saw outside Walmart. Like everyone else, we also rewarded the amazing kids performing their gravity defying stunts down Beale St. But there was sometimes an uneasy feeling that you've passed over a person in dire need of help and that guilt followed us all the way across the USA.

Next morning we bid a fond farewell to Memphis, Tennessee and returned to Missouri via Arkansas, to pick up our Route 66 itinerary where we left off. The weather was erratic. Driving rain one minute, followed by blinding sunlight, followed by dark clouds and more rain. The amount of kamikaze bugs that suicide on your windscreen is truly a sight to behold. Their poor bodies slam onto the glass with an almighty SPLAT! Your vision (and your photos) are blurred by hundreds of delightful paintballs that reflect all the colours of the rainbow. If it wasn't so sad, it would be funny.

Somewhere after Stanton MO, we drove in search of a place that, apparently every male thinks is funny. It has no real significance, there is no historical reason it exists. I just don't think it's that hysterical, but my darling husband couldn't stop giggling as he pulled up and snapped a delightful memento of Knob Lick.

Who names these towns? Whoever they are, I'm betting that they're still laughing. Not the poor townsfolk though. They didn't look too impressed with a couple of city slickers doing a ridiculous selfie in front of their namesake. I've said it before and I'll say it again: Mr Clipped is a boy in a man's body.



Anyhoo, we continued on through to Sullivan MO for the night, after deviating past the Starlite Drive In, one of a few surviving drive in theatres left across America. It brought back gorgeous memories of my childhood in the 60's, our family of 6 squished into the family Holden and watching in awe as that gigantic screen lit up with the latest Disney offering, courtesy of a crackly personal PA hooked on your window.

A very restful nights accommodation at the Comfort Inn & Suites Sullivan before enjoying stops at Cuba (murals), Fanning (giant rocking chair), Rolla (more murals), Devils Elbow (old bridge) and Lebanon (Route 66 Museum). Steeped in history, small town America is rich with people who offer so much of themselves to total strangers and we often found ourselves spending more time than anticipated, sharing a conversation and a laugh with people who just couldn't get enough of our Aussie vernacular, although I steadfastly refused to say "G'day Mate" or "Crikey" on command.



Another night at Comfort Inn & Suites at Springfield MO (they have awesome hot tubs and heated pools), before heading off towards Tulsa, Oklahoma via the bottom right hand corner of Kansas.
The weather Gods decided to (finally) cut us a break. Even though the skies were ominous - we took advantage of relative mild conditions and stopped at lots of quirky roadside attractions. Passed though Joplin, Baxter Springs, Vinita to name a few.



My absolute favourite, was the Blue Whale at Catoosa. Just off the freeway, is a delightful labour of love that has become one of the most beloved icons on Route 66.

The story goes like this: there was once a kindy gentleman who owned a property that housed a beautiful small lake. His adored young daughter was a keen swimmer and together with her friends, they would jump off the lakes edge for a swim in the hot months. The father saw an opportunity to keep them entertained, so he set about building an enormous, tactile and interactive jetty in the shape of a friendly "whale". I'm not sure how long it took, but the result was this gargantuan blue concrete and fibreglass mammal that "floats" on the shore, with a big grin and a little hat. There's a climbing loft where you can peek out of the head, deviously inviting slides that flank the body and submerged ladders provide access to and from the water. "Blue" is truly an amazing piece of folk art and a testament to the effort a guy will go to - all for his little princess and her princess friends. The family has generously "loaned indefinitely" the precinct and it's smiling, aquatic behemoth to visitors - who flock to see it. Sadly, it is forbidden to swim in the lake or jump off the whale, as insurance is cost prohibitive for the family to sustain. There is a small honour style donation box to keep the attraction accessible to the public and the picnic grounds landscaped - we wasted no time reimbursing for our visit


It was money well spent.