Route 66 Dispatch

OKLAHOMA CITY, OK — Today’s journey followed Route 66 along a 13-mile slice of Kansas and then into Oklahoma where, according to Route 66 Adventure Handbook author Drew Knowles, the road “finally enters that part of the country with which she is most intimately associated.”

The Mini entered Kansas on old Route 66 highway at Galena.

The road then dipped further southwest, entering Oklahoma at Quapaw and soon after winding through the very small and sparse town of Commerce, boyhood home of Mickey Mantle.

After passing through two more towns in fairly close proximity–Miami, where I gassed up at a Phillips 66 station, paying $2.37 for hi-test, and Narcissa–the well-maintained “OK66,” as it’s now known in this state, began to show some of the stuff of its legend. In the space between Narcissa and Vinita it coursed along vast open stretches, rising and falling like a rapid succession of waves in Waikiki. Before the age of straight and fairly level superhighways, the old highways did that–they followed the shape of the land and almost always took the path of least resistance.

On the Mini’s radio a local station played hits from the ’80s–Adam Ant’s “Goody Two Shoes” and Mike and the Mechanics’ “All I Need Is a Miracle.”

Talk about exhilaration…

Every now and then loops of vintage roadway would appear, reducing adrenalin and inducing wonder like this stretch outside Kellyville.

And in almost every town, living and long-gone remnants of the glory days hid in plain sight.

Thanks for watching. More tomorrow!

JOPLIN, MO — I got lost at least a half-dozen times today underneath a back-and-forth of rain and sun, but I was also able to take the above photo from the comfort of my car. On which of today’s super highways are you able to do that?

Don’t get me wrong, the modern interstate highway system is clearly a wonder of technological progress, whisking millions of motorists from one point to another more quickly, safely and efficiently than ever before. But the last three days have made plain to me that it’s also a holy bore to drive.

You’re not going to find the world’s largest rocking chair, so certified by the Guinness Book of World Records, on I-80 anytime soon.

A fuller picture of the Route 66 experience is forming in my mind. It’s a little premature yet, but I’m sure it’ll germinate nicely over the next few days. Remember, the great American Southwest still lies ahead.

For now, merely consider that all of the roadside photographs posted in this dispatch were taken today.

For those considering their own excursion along Route 66, I highly recommend two key sources to both prepare you and guide you on your way: Drew Knowles’ Route 66 Adventure Handbook and Jim Ross and Jerry McClanahan’s “Here It Is! The Route 66 Map Series.”

The maps, in particular, have been invaluable in guiding me along the Mother Road when the route is not clearly marked and for improvising alternate routes on those two occasions (thus far) when a stretch of the old road had been closed for repair. (Route 66 is no longer marked on standard roadmaps.) In Illinois, following Route 66 is as easy as following your shadow. You don’t need a map; nearly the entire route, including turns, is clearly delineated by “Historic Route 66” guide signs. In Missouri, however, staying on course is another matter entirely. The route is not well marked, which only further complicates the often tricky sequences of turns that crop up throughout the state. So be prepared.

See you tomorrow from Oklahoma!

SULLIVAN, MO — Last night it was McLean, tonight it’s Sullivan. Two consecutive nights in Irish-named towns was not part of the original itinerary, folks. But then most of today’s action wasn’t either. Such is life on the road. Plan for tomorrow but always be ready to juggle and accommodate.

Morning broke moist and chilly. But the sunrise promised a good day for driving.

Out on Route 66 at 9 AM, I pulled the Mini into Atlanta, IL, a few miles down the road, to snap some photos. These grain storage units grabbed my attention fairly quickly.

Further along I spotted a garage that probably once serviced cars of the World War II generation. Today a fading generic facade is all that remains of the business.

Most commercial services along Route 66 were not as humble as the proprietors of that garage, however. The photo posted yesterday of the recently opened diner with the rooftop display of the dancing Blues Brothers is but one of the latest examples of a longstanding tradition of Route 66 roadside advertising.

Historically when it came to promotion, the splashier, more outrageous and crazy the ad, the better it was for sales. Or so the thinking went. Say it’s the early 1960s and you wanna sell to passing motorists more hot dogs than any other game in town. What do you do? Purchase an old statue that was originally used to sell automotive parts, take the muffler out of the statue’s hands and in its place insert one mutant kielbasa-sized dog on a monster bun. The result is this restored roadside classic.

Neon was also used to attention-grabbing effect. I bought my first coffee this morning at the Palms Cafe in Atlanta. Sinatra from the ’40s played on the sound system while the waitress poured my cup. Judging from its vintage neon sign, the Palms was probably around when that music was new.

In Springfield, IL, the neon sign for a donut shop proudly bears witness to many years of circular confections sold by the dozen.

And then my camera acted up. Seriously. I mean, the problem wasn’t serious but it did require professional attention, which required me driving 50 miles out of my way to get the problem taken care of. And this was in St. Louis, MO. I don’t know if you’ve been to St. Louis lately, but man, the town is much bigger–more sprawled out–than I had imagined. And with sprawl comes dense rush-hour traffic and…well you know the rest. Most of you reading this are probably New Yorkers.

Anyway, that pretty much derailed the rest of the day. By the time I finally left St. Louis (after a stop each at a city information facility, the wrong place for the camera repair and the right place for the camera repair), I wanted to get as far away from the city and its congested environs as I could in the daylight I had left, so I steered the Mini onto I-44 and motored 55 miles southwest to St. Clair, where I resumed my drive on Route 66 until arriving in Sullivan and the motel from which I now type these words with a yawn. I’m kaput, it’s time for sleep. See you again tomorrow. And, as always, feel free to comment or say hello!

Postscript: If you’re ever in Sullivan, MO, do stop by EINopal for some great home-cooked Mexican food. The chicken quesadilla fajita I had tonight was better and cheaper than most Tex-Mex fare I’ve tried in Manhattan.

MCLEAN, IL — And so today it begins.

I didn’t exactly sleep in this morning what with 7 hours on the night, but it was rejuvenating sleep nonetheless. The weather had also turned cooperative with a brisk mix of sun and wind-blown clouds. Today I awoke ready to go.

I was up early enough to fit in a quick stroll along N. Michigan Avenue, where some fantastic architecture resides. Along the way I spied the entrance for the headquarters of NBC Chicago:

Like the other major television networks, NBC has had its share of problems in recent years, but their logo remains impressive, particularly set against a splashy art deco background.

Walking the final blocks to N. Michigan Avenue, I enjoyed watching my favorite building in the city come more fully into view.

The Chicago Tribune Building, completed in 1925. Here it is looking all Gothic:

Beyond the Trib building is still more architectural splendor. Chicago is easily one of the country’s most beautiful cities, which helps take the sting out of a pricey stay here.

I was pleasantly surprised to discover this prominently displayed bust of the late Cubs announcer Jack Brickhouse thrown into the mix (yeah, the girl was cute too):

I didn’t have time to hang around though. One old and legendary highway was waiting.

Back at the hotel I loaded up the Mini and then returned to ask the concierge for some directions. An affable man, he inquired where I was headed. When I told him my plans he remarked that the resurgent popularity of the Mother Road, particularly among visiting Europeans, was spurring a new revival of cafes and other services along the route. Earlier that year 18 German guests at the hotel left for a motorcycle ride along Route 66 on machines they had shipped over from their country.

Directions in mind, I set out for downtown Chicago and Lou Mitchell’s Restaurant, the traditional place to go for the pre-drive meal.

Opened in 1923, Lou Mitchell’s predates the official creation of Route 66 by 3 years. I was greeted at the front door by a waiter bearing a platter filled with freshly baked puff pastries. They also serve a rich and fluffy ham-and-cheese omelette, served on a silver skillet with fried potato wedges and onions. I had mine delivered with ageless gusto by Cubs fan and 22-year Mitchell’s waitress Donna Fenton, 81, here posing with diner Paula Woodley:

Then it was back to the Mini, fire up the engine, one last Tweet(s), and onward heading southwest along Adams, the slowed-down, full-bellied beginning of my Route 66 experience.

Blocks of downtown blight along Chicago’s outer edge soon give way to sights that haven’t changed much with time. Here and there you also spot relics, like this gas station, that have been restored with a perfectionist’s attention to small details.

Soon enough the kitsch shows up as well.

Along with stunning beauty from another time. Here’s the Rialto Square Theatre in Joliet:

And a detail shot:

Other, unphotographed impressions come to mind: the steady kapock-kapock of tires on the seams of vintage Route 66 concrete, open land fading into big blue-and-white skies, the speedometer at 50 but nonetheless a momentary buzz by a Braidwood cruiser (I guess the cop read troublemaker in my chrome hood scoop), smells of grain, grass and manure on cool fall winds, and the relaxed excitement of the journey engaged.

CHICAGO, IL — After 2 days and a total of 7 hours’ bed rest, 1,000-plus miles, nonstop spontaneity and a 12-ounce steak, life begins to resemble the above shot of Chicago at night. That pic is but one of many photographic screw-ups as I continue fooling around with the new camera, trying to get a handle on it. It’ll all come together soon (yes, I am discovering the joys of a tripod), but for now I’ve got to make instant lemonade, so I figured for this dispatch I’d show you some of my more inspired screw-ups.

How’d I spend the last 2 days? Mostly thus far, like this:

Still in getting from point A to point B mode. All is a blur in point A to point B mode. But tomorrow that all changes. Later in the afternoon, after catching up on my sleep here at the Doubletree Hotel, I’ll begin driving the original Route 66 pathway from its start in Chicago to its end in Santa Monica, CA. Then I’ll finally be able to revert to enjoy-the-moment mode as I spend 10 to 12 days on the 2,400-mile journey. From there it’s up the coast to Oregon along Highway 101, an enjoyable ride in itself. Can’t wait to work the Mini through all those twisties.

Here’s another night shot of Chicago, a screw-up with character:

And finally, why pay to park?

My Tweets will fill you in on additional boring details. Enjoy the rest of your weekend. Soon the real fun starts!

IRVINGTON, NY — Digital ain’t green, that’s for sure.

Right now I’m packing recharger chords for my laptop, iPod, two digital cameras, and cell phone. I wonder if there will be enough outlets for all these gadgets in some of the older mom and pop motels along Route 66. Back in the ’40s, ’50s, and ’60s, when Route 66 was The road to take from Chicago to L.A., people hand-wound their cameras and used pay phones. Their cars may have guzzled more gas, but in other ways our forebears were greener than the Jolly Green Giant. And they weren’t quite as obsessed with keeping in touch as we are today.

In a few hours I’ll depart on my own journey along that legendary pathway. In the days to come you can check back here to read my dispatches and Tweets from the Mother Road as I follow it from Chicago down through Missouri and Oklahoma to the Texas Panhandle and then west through New Mexico, Arizona, and finally, California. Route 66 ends in L.A. (or, more specifically, Santa Monica), but my trip will continue north from there, up California’s coastal Highway 101 to the mountainous and almost perpetually green state of Oregon and ultimately the city of Eugene, home of Ducks football, Zen-trance-inducing bicycle paths and one mighty fine Italian restaurant, Beppe and Gianni’s.

Once in Eugene I’ll take a break from driving and writing and spend time with family there. Going home, it will be a straight shot across the northern U.S. on I-80. My older brother drove east coast to west coast on I-80 in a little over three days, and my goal will be to at least tie that time. Or so I say…

My car is a 2007 Mini S hardtop. I bought it new, and today it barely has 13,000 miles on the odometer. I’m confident that little buggy will voraciously eat up the road and wear its additional 7,500-plus miles with a smile.

So much for the stats. Why am I taking this trip? For one, I started my own business four years ago and haven’t had a real go-away vacation in that time. Business has been fairly slow this year (thanks a million, Congress and Wall Street!), so I figured the time was right. Personal issues are also involved, but when aren’t personal issues involved in a trip like this? We all have personal issues. For the purposes of this blog, let’s just pretend your issues are my issues and we’re all making this trip together for the same reasons. Just don’t ask to drive, ‘k?

Here’s a pic of yours truly taken earlier today by my friend Pete Forrest in Tarrytown:

So there you have the basics. Time for me to have at some sleep. Tomorrow it’s an early rise, a warm goodbye to my dog Ilsa, a handover of the house keys to Siobhan, a quick stop at Tarrytown’s Coffee Labs; and then the entrance ramp to Route 287, the Tappan Zee Bridge, and the wide-open road. I hope you’ll hang around for the ride. And, as always, your comments are welcome.