Day 18, Route 66
After another hamburger breakfast, I wanted to check out the garage across the street. It was a stereotypical small town garage. From the state of the building and the cars it from of it, I could tell it had seen better times. Being a passionate fan of american cars I had to step inside. The owner was a chain smoking man in his mid sixties, the standard blue coverall looked as old as his garage. I explained my obsession with american cars and politely we asked if we could check out the cars. The owner told me he had something I might like in the back. There stood a fully customized black 1950 Lincoln coupe. It had a mirror like paint job, a professionally chopped rood, flamed nose, lake pipes and a full custom leather interior. This car looked better than any new car I have ever seen. It was all hand build by the old man himself. Amazing.
Today we left Williams to travel the historic Route 66 toward Los Angeles. US66 was established in 1926 running all the way from Chicago, Illinois through Missouri, Kansas, Oklahoma, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona and California before ending at Los Angeles for a total of 2,448 miles. Route 66 was a major path of the migrants who went west, in search of a better life. The road was officially decommissioned in 1985, after it was decided the route was no longer relevant. Immortalized in literature, popular music, and television the route is now in revival, and labeled a national monument. Although much of the original road is covered or bypassed by Interstate 40, some parts still exist. The stretch from Kingman to Seligman is one of the few preserved original parts of the mother road - as it is affectionately called.
Well, after 4000 miles of traveling, the route 66 was just like any other road: long, straight and lonely. Although the idea that you are traveling what is possibly the most famous road in the whole world, is exciting. The interesting stuff is not the road itself but the historic towns and shops beside it. We stopped at a famous gas station: a wooden building filled to the brim with Route66 stuff. The yard surrounding the house is home to various American cars, ranging from classic to historic. I have seen a 1918 t-Ford, 1930 Ford Coupe hotrod, ’57 Apache pickup trucks, a ’67 Impala. The barns were filled with flathead ford engines, dual carbed ‘65 corvette blocks and other stuff many enthusiast can only ream of. On permanent display is a pristine 1957 fuel injected Corvette. The owner told me they got all the stuff for free. After buying some drinks and gifts, visited the bathroom -which was totally covered in pictures of naked women- and continued our trip west.
Today is my lucky -car- day. After taking a wrong turn in Sleligman, we were still on the route 66, going to Needles. Unfortunately for Bart, we passed a car dealer who had two hundred square meters of classic cars. I felt like a kid in a candy store! After an hour of ooh’s and aah’s, Bart persuaded me to come back to our own car and keep driving. Exiting route 66 on the I-40, we drove though the most remote, uninhabited part of America; the mohave desert. Elsewhere deserts change their scenery every fifty miles, not this desert. Worst of all: due to floods the road was badly damaged, at least according to the road signs, it seemed fine to me. The maximum speed was only 35 mph here... Boring! We stopped at an old 66 trucker diner, which looked like it was closed years ago. Enjoyed a salty soup, while two truckers next to us talked about their vehicles. Back on the desert roads we discovered that or brand new Chrysler was starting to fall apart. With strong side winds the side window gets blown in about two centimeters. The convertible top does not close very well at times; is has nearly been blown off several times. Hanging on to the sail like roof at highway speeds is quite the frightening experience.
Getting close to Los Angeles we decided to keep to our traveling schedule and visit Irvine tomorrow. So, we had to find a place for the night fast! It was getting dark already and we were still in the desert. After some driving around we picked a national forrest south-east of our position, about two hours away. It is the only national forrest near Los Angeles, so we figured there must be some motels or campsites in the area. Just as the sun set we arrived on the foot of the hills leading to Big Bear. The sunset colored the skies red, fading into a deep dark blue. Driving in the dark we discovered a town and asked for directions. Another hour later we were settled in a ‘motel 8’. The shower was nice, the blankets smelled like cat piss. We watched ‘cat woman’ on cable television, I’d rater lick the blanket than watch that movie again.
After another hamburger breakfast, I wanted to check out the garage across the street. It was a stereotypical small town garage. From the state of the building and the cars it from of it, I could tell it had seen better times. Being a passionate fan of american cars I had to step inside. The owner was a chain smoking man in his mid sixties, the standard blue coverall looked as old as his garage. I explained my obsession with american cars and politely we asked if we could check out the cars. The owner told me he had something I might like in the back. There stood a fully customized black 1950 Lincoln coupe. It had a mirror like paint job, a professionally chopped rood, flamed nose, lake pipes and a full custom leather interior. This car looked better than any new car I have ever seen. It was all hand build by the old man himself. Amazing.
Today we left Williams to travel the historic Route 66 toward Los Angeles. US66 was established in 1926 running all the way from Chicago, Illinois through Missouri, Kansas, Oklahoma, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona and California before ending at Los Angeles for a total of 2,448 miles. Route 66 was a major path of the migrants who went west, in search of a better life. The road was officially decommissioned in 1985, after it was decided the route was no longer relevant. Immortalized in literature, popular music, and television the route is now in revival, and labeled a national monument. Although much of the original road is covered or bypassed by Interstate 40, some parts still exist. The stretch from Kingman to Seligman is one of the few preserved original parts of the mother road - as it is affectionately called.
Well, after 4000 miles of traveling, the route 66 was just like any other road: long, straight and lonely. Although the idea that you are traveling what is possibly the most famous road in the whole world, is exciting. The interesting stuff is not the road itself but the historic towns and shops beside it. We stopped at a famous gas station: a wooden building filled to the brim with Route66 stuff. The yard surrounding the house is home to various American cars, ranging from classic to historic. I have seen a 1918 t-Ford, 1930 Ford Coupe hotrod, ’57 Apache pickup trucks, a ’67 Impala. The barns were filled with flathead ford engines, dual carbed ‘65 corvette blocks and other stuff many enthusiast can only ream of. On permanent display is a pristine 1957 fuel injected Corvette. The owner told me they got all the stuff for free. After buying some drinks and gifts, visited the bathroom -which was totally covered in pictures of naked women- and continued our trip west.
Today is my lucky -car- day. After taking a wrong turn in Sleligman, we were still on the route 66, going to Needles. Unfortunately for Bart, we passed a car dealer who had two hundred square meters of classic cars. I felt like a kid in a candy store! After an hour of ooh’s and aah’s, Bart persuaded me to come back to our own car and keep driving. Exiting route 66 on the I-40, we drove though the most remote, uninhabited part of America; the mohave desert. Elsewhere deserts change their scenery every fifty miles, not this desert. Worst of all: due to floods the road was badly damaged, at least according to the road signs, it seemed fine to me. The maximum speed was only 35 mph here... Boring! We stopped at an old 66 trucker diner, which looked like it was closed years ago. Enjoyed a salty soup, while two truckers next to us talked about their vehicles. Back on the desert roads we discovered that or brand new Chrysler was starting to fall apart. With strong side winds the side window gets blown in about two centimeters. The convertible top does not close very well at times; is has nearly been blown off several times. Hanging on to the sail like roof at highway speeds is quite the frightening experience.
Getting close to Los Angeles we decided to keep to our traveling schedule and visit Irvine tomorrow. So, we had to find a place for the night fast! It was getting dark already and we were still in the desert. After some driving around we picked a national forrest south-east of our position, about two hours away. It is the only national forrest near Los Angeles, so we figured there must be some motels or campsites in the area. Just as the sun set we arrived on the foot of the hills leading to Big Bear. The sunset colored the skies red, fading into a deep dark blue. Driving in the dark we discovered a town and asked for directions. Another hour later we were settled in a ‘motel 8’. The shower was nice, the blankets smelled like cat piss. We watched ‘cat woman’ on cable television, I’d rater lick the blanket than watch that movie again.
posted by Branko | 2:15 PM
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