Route 66 - Chicago to LA

[drron]

Well being slightly older my usual greeting is G'day and living reasonably close to Australia zoo I am more inclined to agree to say crikey i am quite popular in small town USA.But even without that you shouldn't miss rural and small town USA-the folks are really friendly and certainly like a yarn.

 

[clipped_wings]

Well being slightly older my usual greeting is G'day and living reasonably close to Australia zoo I am more inclined to agree to say crikey i am quite popular in small town USA.But even without that you shouldn't miss rural and small town USA-the folks are really friendly and certainly like a yarn.

Agreed. Ironically ddron, our family has been so influenced by so much exposure to American culture, that we all say "hey" instead of "hi". But it's incredible how warm and hospitable the country folk are. There is a clear dialect that defines each state - you can feel the change as you move West.

 

[drron]

I have an old fashioned aussie accent so they find me hard to understand except for Oklahoma where they talk real slow and Washington state where I have been mistaken for a local.In the deep south i just let mrsdrron do the talking.

 

[clipped_wings]

Always on the lookout for some groovy memento, we often browsed the small stores for a piece of Route 66. As it is everywhere across the globe, we found many of the diners and vintage souvenir shops have all the same stuff. (Somewhere in Asia, someone is making a motza on cheap, imported touristy rubbish that litters Route 66). But we needed to respect the local economy (or lack thereof) and support the shop owners, so we bought something everywhere we stopped. For the most part, we managed to navigate our way around the rows of shiny boxes filled with GEN-YOO-WINE Route 66 "memorabilia" and find some really cool old car parts - emblems, badges, odometers etc. All to join our growing collection of car parts Mr Clipped has already squirreled away at home. I think he's planning to build a concept car from all this cough.

I can actually visualise this object d'art in my front yard.



I am a HUGE Airstream fan. This museum piece took my breath away and I spent many minutes inside, imagining myself in a polka dot scarf and a pair of catwoman sunnies.



Rusty gold wherever we went.



There was one exception however, to our array of legitimate and authentic collectibles collection. Along the way, I gathered kitschy little fridge magnets of every state we visited. I first saw them on Stephen Fry's Across America DVD - a fabulous series that I devour like/with a box of Christmas chocolates on an annual basis. They are insignificant little blobs of consumer nothing and their whole purpose in life is to sit on the fridge. Brilliant!

I collected all but one: Kansas. You can buy them for $1.99 from anywhere, but wherever we went - it was sold out. This made me want it more. And I was running out of Mother Road.

Now, we had approximately 16 miles of Route 66 in Kansas. That's IT. I had very limited opportunity to acquire my Kansas magnet. It had now become my sole mission to find this elusive little rubber artefact.

As we crossed the border from Missouri into Kansas, our appetite took charge and demanded attention away from the magnet quest. We stopped at a small store and ordered a classic turkey and pastrami on rye sandwich to share. Yum. Bellies full, we continued along until we came to an old general store. It was manned by my new best friend Debbie-Lyn. We hit it off immediately. Mr Clipped groaned quietly and hid himself in the aisles of dusty wares while Debbie-Lyn and I nagged about Halloween, crockery and other important stuff. Another women dropped in and she nagged with us. It was AWESOME gasbagging with my kind of people. I found an old wire pumpkin that I simply had to own. Mr Clipped materialised and graciously handed over the $4.99. Debbie-Lyn insisted that we get our photo taken with my pumpkin pal, who I named "Wilson" after Tom Hank's bestie in Castaway. Anyway, just before the photo was taken, I casually remarked to Debbie-Lyn that I was searching for a Kansas state magnet.

"Oh honey, they urr just down tha' road in tha' Trading Post - abouwt a mahl or sow" (say it out loud).

The resulting photo didn't quite capture my elation. But I can tell you, I was dancing on the inside and I hugged my gal pal a little tighter.



Wilson was strapped safely in the back seat and we pressed pedal to the metal for our next stop in a mile or so.

 

[clipped_wings]

I am now out of chronological order. The Blue Whale story actually occurred in Oklahoma. But there's no exam at the end of this story, so it doesn't really matter.

Now, where was I? Oh yeah. (Ahem) - we raced along the road to The Trading Post at the bottom right hand corner of Kansas. What a goldmine. Not only did I find my little Kansas magnet - I also found a bathroom that offered THREE PLY toilet paper. My poor derriere was over the sandpaper offerings thus far and I was running out of Preparation H. It was a win/win for the Clipped Wings Duo.

16 miles goes pretty fast when you're comfortable and before you could say Happy Bum, Happy Mum - we were in Oklahoma.

The Comfort Inn & Suites (are you sensing a pattern here?) was another fine host in Tulsa, but we needed to get to Oklahoma City before dusk, for a very special reason. We drove through Sepulpa, Bristow, Chandler and Arcadia before making it to the Holiday Inn Express on Main Street about 3pm. The sky was overcast and it was cool. We checked in, then donned our jackets for a 20 minute walk to the Oklahoma City Memorial, where we would pay our respects to the men, women and children who lost their lives on 19 April 1995. If you go just before the sun sets, you will find a deeply moving and serene precinct that has been preserved as an extraordinary monument to honour the 168 souls who perished here from an atrocious act of terrorism by a person who shall not be gloried in name.

We entered the memorial through one of 2 large monoliths that stand sentry to both ends of the plaza where a road once passed through. Each one depicts a different time. One has the moment the bomb ripped through the Federal Building that housed offices and a creche. The opposite wall has another time - two minutes later. This moment depicts when the City regained its composure and began healing.

Down the middle, between each wall is now a very shallow reflection pool. It is the exact width of the former road. Along one side of the pool, is a grassed area where 168 "chairs", large and small - sit quietly amongst the lawn. Arranged in rows and sized according to their age and which floor each person was at the time the bomb detonated. When the sun sets - the chairs become illuminated, softly glowing until the sun rises each next day. Across the other side, is a large old tree. It's branches are withered and it looks like it's about to fall over. It's called the Survival Tree. It was discovered during the clean up and was immediately given an order to preserve, no matter the cost. It now stands as a living, breathing representative to everyone - deceased, injured and first responders. It plays host to a large family of devious and gorgeous squirrels, who provide a small window of welcome comic relief for visitors to the site.

I was not prepared for the rush of emotion that washed over me when those chairs lit up. There's a heavy weight you carry as you walk through and read the names. I felt a lump in my throat as I found two young siblings I had read about when researching our visit. Their tiny chairs sat protected among a group of larger chairs - almost guarded in a semi circle. The poignant configuration made it very difficult to leave, there's some instinctive, parental urge that takes over and you want to stay with those 2 chairs. At least that's how I felt. It was a complete contradiction to the 9/11 memorial, where foolish and ignorant tourists snap selfies as they sit on the ledge where victims names are engraved.

The memorial is a sensitive and beautiful place. The community, people and artists who designed it are to be commended for their compassionate portrayal of the event that occured here. After chatting with a dedicated, but very friendly security guard, who protect and monitor the memorial 24/7 - we made our way back to the hotel. It was a long day and I was exhausted.

No photos needed. It's etched in my memory.

 

[clipped_wings]

The next morning we had a quick breakfast and hit the road early. Today would be a catch up day to compensate for the Memphis detour. We had at least 7 solid hours of driving, not including stops.

If anyone is still reading and they listen to world news, they would be familiar with Hurricane Michael. A rather nasty Cat 5 storm cell that took the dubious honour of smashing the record for its damaging winds and flood potential across the south east of North America recently. Michael had made landfall up the Gulf of Mexico a few days prior and its far reaching circumference tracked a long way inland. There was a TV channel dedicated to it and we often watched with interest, mainly to ensure we weren't in it's path. We never actually experienced the hurricane itself, but the weather was crazy and we drove for much of our journey in the face of some really horrible conditions.
Poor Mr Clipped is a Michael. And he was now famous for all the wrong reasons.




This morning we awoke to a freezing day with black clouds. The sky was an ominous shade of slate. At least it made some dramatic photos.



This museum was probably the most comprehensive we found. And it was open. Which was a bonus.




After a few shots about town, we made our way west to what we ignorant Aussies had often believed was the most western west in the west: TEXAS

We drove forever (at least it seemed that long - I'm sure my hair grew at least an inch). Texas is a massive place. And we only drove across the top portion, known as the Pan Handle. It was only a tiny snapshot of a Whole Lotta Waaaaaade open space. We passed through El Reno, Elk City, Texola, McLean and onto Amarillo. The clouds parted occasionally and a brilliant blue sky gave my shutter speed a break. We were supposed to spend the night at Amarillo, but had now determined Tucumcari as our next port. But we couldn't resist the urge to capture Texas as only we know how.

I can only imagine the story these walls could tell.



Trust me: NOTHING is closer than it appears out here.



They say everything's bigger in Texas.



We never made it in time to enjoy the MidPoint Cafe. It should be called the Midday Cafe. Because that's when it closes.



I could help but notice the irony of this shot.



One of the highlights of this leg, was a place called The Cadillac Ranch. It's exactly that. A parcel of land where some braniac decided to plough a dozen Caddies into the earth - all at the same angle and spaced evenly apart. Then he covered the lot with graffiti. And asked that all future visitors do the same. Over the years, this iconic piece of art has gathered a loyal following and people flock to see, and deface it. All courtesy of rusty cans of spray paint that litter the site.

Now, being an old school sign writer, I wanted to do a good job. Perhaps a nice Times Roman, with a pin-line and drop shadow? Or maybe a glorious Edwardian Script, topped with a flourish?

Mr Clipped, the same calibre of tradesman, but ever pragmatic - grabbed a can and expertly went to work:

Pffftttt Pffffffffffffft Pfffffffffffffffffffft.

He stepped back to admire his handiwork. There, in delightful childish gibberish, was his immortal name and country in slimy black ink: MICK AUST



After a tortuous few minutes, we gazed over Mr Clipped's tag, applauded and ran back to the car.
I forgot to tell you about the cows. Oh, and the stink factor. Those big Texan cows and their big Texan smell. That delightful, musky aroma simply has to be smelled to be believed. Now, I have spent much of my youth on farms. And I've raised 4 kids. So I know about poo. But that stench made my stomach churn. I wished I had a hanky and a jar of Vicks Vaporub to make it go away. It didn't. It followed me, into the car and down the road. It dug its smelly heels in and stayed like an unwelcome house guest for the next 20 miles.

I'm trying really hard to be brave in this photo. I actually wanted to abandon the shoot and high tail it outa there. But Mr Clipped wanted it just right. I'm hissing through clenched teeth: "TAKE THE DAMN PHOTO!"



We hit Tucumcari New Mexico as the sun was setting. The Holiday Inn Express appeared as a beacon on the horizon and we fell into bed, dreaming of psychedelic Caddies and fragrant cow paddies. That, or I still had poo up my nostrils.

 

[ausfox]

Excellent TR. keep it up please.

 

[cove]

We can be at the finish line around November 30th.

 

[blackcat20]

Ha I stayed at the Big Texan a few years back. Even the pool is shaped like a map of Texas (and they do good steak).

 

[drron]

You should have gone to the real Big Tex.It should have been on when you passed through.
Home | State Fair of Texas
It's a hoot

 

[ellen10]

Joining along for the ride

 

[VPS]

Of course we're still reading and loving it. Keep up the good work

 

[ontheaisle]

Ha I stayed at the Big Texan a few years back. Even the pool is shaped like a map of Texas (and they do good steak).

I went into a McDonald's in Texas once, about 10 years ago, and the washbasin in the toilet was shaped like a map of Texas

 

[clipped_wings]

We're now pretty much in the middle of nowhere. When we had to crash between major cities, we alternated our stays between Comfort Inn & Suites and the Holiday Inn. So far, this practice had been pretty successful. Our membership allowed us to score high floor rooms (okay, the 3rd floor is considered a high floor when there's only three floors) and most of them had super comfortable beds, a feature that is the deal-breaker for me. There was even larger-than-normal flat screens in some, so we didn't have to squint when we binged Brooklyn Nine Nine.

The breakfast in these establishments is less than stellar - but it's free and it gets you going. So we gulped down our mandatory 3 cups of coffee (with the ridiculous stirrer that is thinner than a hair follicle), foam plated powdered eggs and set off for another day of intensive driving.



Sometimes it was positively fun. The gravelly open road, full of promise and distant horizons. Train blaring from the audio. Me blaring from the passenger seat. And Mr Clipped casually flipping the bird at every RV driver who had the audacity to attempt an overtake uphill.

Road trips like this can really make or break a couple. You can spend hours, literally yakking non stop about the previous days events. Then, enjoy four hours of blissful silence as you both ponder the universe along a never-ending straight stretch that goes as far as the curvature of the Earth will allow. As long as you both respect which moments to chin wag and which ones are inferred Quiet Time - everything is awesome. Upset that balance with a casual remark during Quiet Time - and you will have Quiet Time for quite some time...

Onwards we went. The gutsy Toyota never skipped a beat and it was now sheathed in a very credible layer of dust and road kill (just bugs, this isn't Wolf Creek folks).

One of the last museums we found along here, was the Route 66 Auto Museum in Santa Rosa. Mr Clipped finally found a secret stash of 1960's automobiles that made his mouth water. Many were for sale. But our ticket in the 2 billion dollar Mega Millions Lottery hadn't been drawn yet. And I just couldn't assume it was going to win over 300 billion other US citizens. So we put the cheque book away, coughed up enough cash for a couple of T-shirts and simply admired these beauties for being a stunning Blast from the Past.



After passing through Alburqueque and crossing over the Continental Divide, we made Gallup by late afternoon. It was cold. Reaaaally cold. During the days drive, I had managed to secure a night at the Quality Inn, which is a modest relative of the Comfort Inn & Suites chain. We'd been forking out around US$80 per night, except for Chicago and Memphis, which were both in the $$$$ range. The Quality Inn offered US$70 which we thought was worth investigating.

We arrived and although nothing stood out as being dingy - I instantly regretted the booking. It just didn't look inviting. I did not like the external access door configuration - there is that element of security you get when you approach your room via an internal hallway. Anyhoo, Mr Clipped got the key and we huffed and puffed and finally smacked the door open. It was dark and a little creepy. "Never mind" we said. We unpacked the bags and tried to turn on some lights. Click. Nothing. Click. Nothing. "Never mind" we said. Close the door and we'll get changed for dinner. Door jams - half closed, half open. "Never mind" we said, let's clear the bed change shoes. I sank in the bed. I kept sinking. "%@#& THIS" I said. "ENOUGH!"

We got back in the car, drove about 30 feet to the brand new Hilton Garden Inn and checked in to a stunning room. We then drove back to the Quality Inn, backed the car up to the still-open door and piled all our gear back in. I am sure Housekeeping is still scratching their heads at the immaculate guests from Room 103 and what became of them. Who am I kidding? She took her tip and didn't give us another thought.

After possibly the best sleep I have had so far on this journey, we awoke to see tiny snowflakes floating outside. Too tiny to capture on film, but enough to make a black jacket look suspiciously like it's covered in dandruff. We had no idea it had become so cold outside. The Hilton was phenomenal - totally worth the money and breakfast alone was spectacular. I cried when they brought my plate of custom fried eggs to me. Those bad boys were REAL. I grazed all morning until I could graze no more. My fifth coffee safely under my belt, we retreated to our room until a lazy 12 noon checkout. The weather was icy as we reluctantly packed up the car and bid the Hilton goodbye.

By the time we hit Gallup city limits, the snow had gone and a smooth road lay ahead.

 

[Buzzard]

I'm still riding pillion, can't wait for the next instalment.

 

[Maca44]

Just finished reading each post; very interesting and cleverly written.

 

[carls888]

Awesome TR, love your writing style.

 

[beaglex]

Great stuff, loved the classic car photos thanks Mr Clipped.

 

[clipped_wings]

No wonder it was so cold when we left Gallup. The elevation was such, that as we meandered down to the first valley - my ears popped and our giant bag of emergency food (Cheetos) bloated to bursting point. The temperature read 3°C. We descended for a good 30 miles or so and the temperature never deviated. Eventually we hit the valley floor and things warmed up slightly to 7 degrees.

The outlook was just heavenly. Rolling hills, undulating highway and a soft pastel sky for as far as the eye could see. The Cheetos pressurised, which was just as well - because I was afraid if I opened them fully inflated, I'd have lost an eye or be sucked out of the car.

First stop today was the Wigwam Hotel. A quirky little hotel in Holbrook. 10 points to whoever guesses what the rooms looked like. Anyone? Anyone? Ok, they were WIGWAMS. Too adorable! Rumour has it that executives from Pixar took one look at this hotel and used it as inspiration for the Cozy Cone Hotel in the classic animated movie "Cars".
The rooms are no longer offered for accommodation, but the hotel grounds are a must-see Route 66 attraction. It's like stepping back into 1962. Gorgeous rusty old cars parked out the front of each wigwam, so Mr Clipped was entertained thoroughly while I took some photos.






Next stop was Winslow Arizona. @drron, if you're still with us - this one's for you. Mr Clipped and I (or our feet) - standing on the corner. Enjoy



I am a long time fan of the Eagles. And, like everyone else my age - have quite a respectable air guitar repertoire to the classic "Hotel California". But I gotta say: even I would tire of the looped music that seeped out of every single establishment on the main road. After the 22nd airing of "Take it Easy", I was ready to take someone out. But the mood was so laid back here, it kind of reconciles the killer mentality with a groove and you find yourself slipping back into neutral. So I took it easy and bought myself another souvenir pin for my hat. Then my brain released endorphins. Which made me hum to "Take it Easy"..............you get it, right?



Today was full of wonderful photo ops. But nothing prepared us for the next one. It's straight out of some sci-fi movie. You just cannot comprehend how big it is, until you are standing on its edge.

I'm talking about a meteor crater. A big one.

The crater just outside Winslow is huuuuge. It's about a 10 minute drive off the main road. And so TOTALLY WORTH IT.

Billy Connelly stopped here and he reckoned only blokes would find this thing interesting. Wrong Billy! I thought it was incredible. This isn't some man-made carnival stunt. It's absolutely the most amazing natural terrain I have ever seen - right up there with Uluru and the Grand Canyon. And it's all because a tiny meteorite approx 50 metres across, decided to plummet into Earth's atmosphere and face plant itself into the soil around 50,000 years ago, long before Man had the audacity to smash his way into existence here. What is left - is a testament to the epic destruction a teeny celestial body can actually do when it collides with our planet. And a very good reason why scientists all over the world are now scurrying to secure co-ordinates of the millions of Man-made objects currently roaming the galaxy - all in potential free-fall to Earth.

They say a fleck of paint has the power to take out a space station. That's a sobering thought. And it only made our visit to the Meteor Crater all the more fascinating.





Next stop was Williams AZ. We've passed through here before in a day trip, but promised ourselves that we'd stay for the night next time. And so we did. It's a fabulous place. Full of boots, leather and shops that sell guns AND roses, separately of course. It was sub zero when we checked in to the Holiday Inn Express Williams. But the spa was calling our name so we jumped into the bubbling hot water and proceeded to cook slowly for over an hour, thanks to the company of a delightful couple called Steve and Michelle, who were holidaying from Texas. The four of us sat in that pot of hot water and debated politics, religion and immigration (three subjects normally off-limits for strangers) and we simply forgot about the time. Until we got hungry. We said goodbye to our new friends, donned our jackets and grabbed some fried chicken & salad from the local Safeway (which is a misnomer, because at 10pm, safe is anything BUT how you feel). The kid behind the chicken counter heard our Aussie accent and couldn't contain his excitement. He had read up on Australia and was curious to know if the funnel web spiders really were 1 foot wide.

I'd like to think I'm a kind person. And I just didn't have the heart to break his. So I said, in a deadpan voice "Yup. They ARE that big. We keep them as pets". His face lit up like a small child who's just found out Santa is real. The illusion was complete. We paid for our goods and retreated to our nice, artificially warmed room for a long winter nap. And some Cheetos.

 

[VPS]

Loving this TR -you just made me LOL - keep it up