When we get to look at the big picture, it becomes very easy to solve our problems. I'm a little sorry I didn't do this roadtrip when I was 18 or 20. I certainly recommend that every other 18 year old out of high school takes this trip before college. Or, even better, I hope they get to spend 10 months with Americorps and learn about how to fix the stuff that's really important. (See? Nothing has changed except my perspective. How cool is that? Neil is shaking his head. He used to do sit-ins at nuclear plants because they had no emergency evacuation plans. He knows stuff I don't.)
Monday, May 28, 2007
The Last Word....
When we get to look at the big picture, it becomes very easy to solve our problems. I'm a little sorry I didn't do this roadtrip when I was 18 or 20. I certainly recommend that every other 18 year old out of high school takes this trip before college. Or, even better, I hope they get to spend 10 months with Americorps and learn about how to fix the stuff that's really important. (See? Nothing has changed except my perspective. How cool is that? Neil is shaking his head. He used to do sit-ins at nuclear plants because they had no emergency evacuation plans. He knows stuff I don't.)
Sunday, May 27, 2007
The End of the Road
This is it. This is what we drove over 2,500 miles for. (I have the exact number, Avis lot to Avis lot, but I wrote it on one of the 66 maps, and stuck that inside the atlas, which Sherry stuffed into our checked baggage.)
This is the brass plaque at the foot of Santa Monica Boulevard and Ocean Avenue in Palisade Park dedicated to Will Rogers. Dedicated in 1952, I might add, just as US Route 66 was about to be tossed into the trashbin of American cartography.
Down and across Illinois we drove, across the Mississippi to Missouri, nicking Kansas the way your razor does when the blade gets too dull. Through Oklahoma to slice across the chunky top part of Texas. (Why do they call that a panhandle, anyway?) Straight across the deserts of New Mexico (USA) and Arizona (MST), across the Colorado River into California (where there actually was a Time Zone sign, not that it mattered, as Arizona doesn't observe Daylight time, so nothing changed) and down into Santa Monica, the land of tall, spindly trees that cast no shade, and this is what we found:
I guess all that's left for me to say, after 2598 miles and 103 gallons of gas is: I never met a road I didn't like.
Tee Pees are Tip-Top
They are very nice; double bed, TV, bathroom with shower, A/C (or ‘refrigerated air’, in road motel parlance) Gideon Bible and all. Plus a pool. (Not in the room, of course.)
Other than these, 66 through California has little to offer in the way of sights; the haze in the air takes care of that. Even the desert was more pleasant to look at, I'm afraid. (Apologies to our California friends. We love you, we just can’t stand the southern part of your state. If it’s any consolation, we’re not that fond of the southern portion of our state, either, which is why we’re eventually headed to Vermont.)
There are bits and pieces of the original road to be seen on either side of the byway from Barstow to Santa Monica, a few decent neon signs and some abandoned motels and gas stations, but the early morning blue sky quickly turns into the late-morning gray haze which lasts the whole day, following us all the way to the Santa Monica Pier.
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Metapost: ANYONE May Comment
So comment away!
The Amboy Crater
There's a parking lot, some (wisely) shaded picnic tables, two latrines, and the lookout point from which I made this shot. Oh, yeah, and 24 square miles of lava fields.
According to the marker near the heads, it's about a three hour hike out to the cone, up the summit and back. Unfortunately, Sherry was wearing her Crocs (see the entry below: Such a Fine Sight to See) and we'd left the 128-ounce economy-sized tube of sunblock back in New York, so we decided to take a pass on the hike. I did sign the guest book, however. We were the only visitors there today, though someone else was there the day before, when it was a balmy 102 degrees.
Raising Arizona
With perhaps a grand total of 300 feet of actual guardrail along approximately 15 miles of steep, winding switchbacks, this is probably the most treacherous part of the entire trip. So naturally it falls to the guy with the lousy depth perception to keep his boat of a Chrysler Pacifica from tumbling down the cliffs.
Hmmm..."It falls to..." Bad choice of words.
You Can't Choose Your Family....
Such a Fine Sight to See.
It's a Big Desert. I Wouldn't Want to Paint It
Forget what she says below about a 'drop of several hundred feet'. More like a foot-and-a-half to the other side of the wall. And I kept myself behind the signs that read 'Closed beyond this sign'. And I didn't take anything out of the park, save for my trash, and a couple of burrs that got caught on my pant leg.
But she is getting better with the camera. I may even teach her how to select a focus point in-camera, but the Rebel requires one to hold a button whilst moving the command dial, and she's got these tiny little fingers.
This shot of the Painted Desert includes our friend from above. This is also a candidate for printing when we get home.
Friday, May 25, 2007
What Part of "Closed Beyond the Rail" Do You Have Trouble With?
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Water, Water, Everywhere....
We were on 4th Street in Bernalillo, coming back from Santa Fe this afternoon, when traffic started backing up. Took us about ten minutes to get to the intersection causing the problem, which you can clearly see above. The police had blocked the cross traffic, and after we got through I pulled over and went back to the scene. Some roadwork was being done, and apparently a backhoe hit a high-pressure water main, causing this beautiful geyser.
I got a couple of shots, and as I was leaving, suggested to one of the cops that, rather than keeping the traffic back, they should just let them through, and charge them two bucks a head for a car wash. (It reminded me of my days driving around the Bronx, and how nice it was to find an open hydrant where I could get a one-sided car wash for free.)
Alas, I called the paper too late: as the city editor explained, they had some shots from the cops, the construction crew, and one of their own photographers got there as well. "But, hey, if you ever see anything else good, give us a call."
Damned digital cameras. Everybody thinks they're news photographers.
(Coda: The next day's paper not only had no pictures, there wasn't even a mention of the event.)
Veni, Vidi, Emi
Since I couldn't resist, I picked up a Real Estate Book for the area...only to discover that we would all live in very large pueblo mansions out here. Sigh.
We wandered the town square, which, like Albuquerque is the center of the Old Town, home to a zillion art museums and native jewelry, furniture, artwork stores & galleries.
There isn't much of old 66 on this alternate loop. We saw a few yards of Original Crispy, which is the name we've given to the oldest pink pavement, sometimes visible to the side of whatever blacktop we're on. But the motels on Cerillos Rd, 66 in Santa Fe, are neither closed nor deteriorating. They're perfectly maintained working "Motor hotels" with "100% Refrigerated Air" and "TVs in Every Room".
Coming back into Albuquerque we dined at the Route 66 Diner, one of those magnificient deco buildings remodeled into a 50's diner (black and white tile undercounter, turquoise faux leather booth seats and stools, shiny pressed tin backsplash) paying homage to Route 66. They make old fashioned thick shakes and serve half a dozen types of pie.
Too perfect.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
We've Been From Tucson to Tucumcari...
New Mexico, USA
It makes me wonder if the New Mexico governor and current presidential candidate will feel the need to change his name to Bill Ricardoson, just so everyone will quit wondering why the guy with the WASPy surname is always referred to as the 'Hispanic' candidate.
(Will) Arroyo Rogers
This shot and the one above help illustrate the transition from flat, flat Texas to the gulches and mesas of New Mexico as the landscape falls and rises at about the same geographic point just west of the state and time zone lines.
Eldorado Fins, Baby, Whitewalls and Skirts...
Point Me in the Direction of Albuquerque....
Albuquerque itself is a rockin' city. We had dinner this evening in Old Town, a square around which a 300 year old adobe church and equally ancient houses (now restaurants) are arranged. Very lovely. Very tourista. Route 66 here is less about the old motels and more about maintaining (and improving) some fabulous deco architecture. It goes all through Albuquerque as Central Avenue and it has as much neon as they can load onto one street.
I could park here for a good long while.
The Road goes ever on and on....
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Welcome to Texas. Want Some Sushi?
But we're making good time, and we're spending very little of it on the interstate. In fact, we probably spent more time driving back and forth on I-40 in Amarillo late this afternoon looking for tonight's Marriott, thanks in part to a four-inch square map from the hotel's website, and slightly cockeyed city planning.
Historic 66 isn't as well marked here as it is in other states, but it runs pretty much alongside I-40 most of the way across the panhandle. What's really bizarre is that for most of those stretches it's a 55 MPH road, and, in parts, goes to 65! Imagine doing 65 on your favorite stretch of worn down two lane blacktop, no shoulder, just a small gully on either side. I think Sherry was eyeballing those two way-back seats for this part of the ride. (Yup. My day to drive!)
So with that, as well as being the only vehicle on the damn thing for long runs (I swear, there was one point where no cars were coming in the opposite direction for an hour or more) we were in the interesting position of pacing the tractor-trailers for miles at a time.
So we're at the Amarillo Marriott Courtyard tonight, and had dinner at the Kabuki Japanese Steakhouse across the parking lot. A Bennihana-type place, though we skipped the grillside performance for a regular table. And again, we independently decided on the same thing, the steak and chicken combo. (Only after she politely turned down the offer to try the sushi, that is. Sushi in Texas? Who'da thunk?) (Note from Sherry: I got veggies!!!)
Oh, one other thing: This satellite radio has got to have its own built-in GPS or something, since we left OK City tuned to the Broadway channel with Bonnie's dad singing about that beautiful morning and the fancy horse cart with the fringe and all, but after we hit the land of flat, not a peep from R&H.
Not. A. Peep.
So Maybe Marriott WAS a Good Idea...Part II
Photography Lesson #3, Food, The Worst Second Act
It is as windy as advertised, with long, lush green plains broken up by bouffant trees and super-rich chocolate dirt, ranch entrances and the odd angus giving us the eye. It takes me longer to get out of the car and reach for the camera--especially as I was driving today, so I had to put the car in 'park' first--but I had fun shooting Neil again. In this photo he's standing in the remains of a very early, non-electric Route 66 gas station, and later counterfeiter's home. DB, in case you are wondering--and I know you are--he didn't think I was cradling the lens correctly. (Double click on this and the OKC Memorial photo for greater detail.)
As for food...I thought I was going to chronicle that. But Neil and I have become used to eating very clean and very simple at home. There is nothing in the midwest that is clean or simple. Everything I've chosen has been fairly awful. And a vegetable would be nice to see sometime. Last night we went out and determined that we would apply our approach to alcohol to the food (Alcoholic beverage = 1 ingredient + optional ice). We settled on a French dip (as beef is certainly plentiful) au jus, no cheese. These folks put cheese on EVERYTHING. Glad I brought the Met-Rx.
Which leads me to the worst second act in history....I know that I am not alone when I wish the curtain would come down after the townsfolk sing Oklahoma! and everyone could go home. Despite the amusement of hearing Oklahoma! as we entered the state, as well as Oh, what a Beautiful Morning somewhere between Tulsa and Oklahoma City, I sometimes wish that Judd would kill Curly so we could leave the theatre on a high note. But then I think of John Raitt (or Gordon McCrae, if you please) and I sigh. For some things, I'm just a Girl Who Can't Say No.
Except to you-know-who.
Monday, May 21, 2007
Oklahoma City Memorial
(Will Rogers) and Hammerstein
I mention this because irony follows us, and coincidence as well. So it was of little surprise that with merely a single mile remaining in Kansas we hear..."Oklahoma! Where the wind comes sweeping down the plains..."
Sunday, May 20, 2007
This is brilliant....something else I can do to annoy him!
I finally had my photography lesson this morning. It wasn't pretty, but I've got the four part setup: zoom, focus, re-frame, click. And that's been my happy mantra all day. Zoom, focus, re-frame click. Zoom, focus, reframe, click. What I hadn't counted on is how much fun it is to aim the camera at Fats! Oh, I missed many times; and I had the wrong camera and I was holding it wrong and I faced the wrong way and all that stuff I did wrong, wrong, wrong.
But I've been doing stuff wrong for as long as we've been married. So I'm perfectly content to do this wrong too. This is exciting because now we can prove that he exists. And he's wearing sun block.
If The River Was Whisky...
Unfortunately, save for this, an abandoned restaurant, a run-down (but still open) motel's neon sign, and a tumbledown shack, there really isn't much of interest for an abandonment freak like myself to revel in along 66 in Missouri. Even seeing the stretches of overgrown pavement along the shoulder is getting boring. What this trip has done, and will do, is let me add some new states to the list of places I've been to. I've never been to Missouri or New Mexico, or Kansas even. And I've only been to Texas and Illinois if you want to count changing planes at O'Hare and DFW.
So by the time this trip is over I will have been to 22 of the nifty fifty, if the count that Sherry and I did over dinner is correct. (She's been to a few more than I; Idaho, for example. She was skiing.)
Of course, we were hard-pressed to come up with the names of all fifty states during that pre-entree session; even with a piece of paper we could only name about 46. Just this moment I remembered Montana.
Okay, 47.
Anyone want to give it a shot?
Of course I'll have pancakes with that...
It was lovely to see Barry, as it happens all too infrequently these days. But it was all good. And we got to see his newly remodeled kitchen and little pooch, Goose. On the way to breakfast, we had a lovely tour of Forest Park (location of the 1904 World's Fair and a really pretty park.) And after breakfast, we continued on Watson toward the "frontage" road that is the part of Rte 66 that hasn't been torn up or become part of I44 directly.
Now for the sad news....while Missouri has been kind enough to put Historic Route 66 markers along the path, there's really nothing left of Route 66 in the entire state. As a matter of fact, Joplin looks like a newly minted penny with its brand new malls, new hotel rooms and new restaurants. There were a few yards of original road to be seen in the western part of the state. But even the legacy cabins and motels mentioned in the late 1990's guidebook are no longer there. History has marched on. The stuff we call progress looks really really scary.
...and I'll be your Tootsie Wootsie
Oh Captain, My Captain...
The Tomb closes at 5...and we pulled into Springfield promptly at 4:35. Unfortunately, the loo gets locked at 4 pm. Go figure.
Saturday, May 19, 2007
Giant Fiberglass Spaceman
We Found It!
Friday, May 18, 2007
That Toddlin' Town...
Town car picks us up at 7:15 am. Then we toddle off to Chicago....And why is it toddling, anyway? For that matter, why does one shuffle to Buffalo? These and other questions...are pointless. Have a great week everyone! Be sure to post! Mwah!
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Rebel, Rebel....How could they know?
Fats, honey, don't forget to put on sunblock every day. I'm ready for my first lesson.
(Photograph of MBW by Oscar Graubner)
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
Illinois is Overrated
So we'll probably take 294 down to 55. There's a dark gray line running parallel to 55 all the way to Normal, which picks up again outside Bloomington, then seems to end just outside Springfield. At one point there was a state route designation for it: 53.
So I'm going to have to hit the EZ66 guide just to find the damned road anywhere. Now, I realize it no longer carries any official US route designation, but don't you think the nation's cartographers would point it out? It's pretty a well known road after all. It's got a song. It had a TV show. They point out where Stanley Marsh planted his Cadillac Ranch outside Amarillo, and that place only got a song (and maybe a video, but that's a one-off, not like a series). But no, Randy Mac can't tell me that US 66 is SR 53 through most of Illinois, and then seems to change its number both randomly and haphazardly all the way to St. Louis. Too many numbers, guess.
So we'll most likely take 55 straight down to Springfield, then check out the Abe Lincoln boneyard. And isn't it interesting the way Illinois usurped Lincoln? Have you ever wondered, like me, what physical claim (well, okay, other than possession of his actual dead body in a crypt) Illinois has on the railsplitter from Kentucky? How did Illinois become the 'Land of Lincoln'? Land of Lincoln's grave I can understand. And that's one thing, perhaps the only thing, in Illinois I'm looking forward to.
Saturday, May 5, 2007
Alright, Here are the New Pictures!
These were taken by myself (in the case of Sherry) and Mr. Unknown (in the case of me). Devon's Bar Mitzvah was the setting for this, as noted in the caption, happy time.
So, how'd I do? Jackie? Sharon? Sherry?
Bueller?
Friday, May 4, 2007
Marriott Loves Me, So I Can Ignore the Green Carpet
Friday, April 27, 2007
Mr. The-glass-is-half-empty, It Can't be Done
What's more, you can try to kid these people, but you've been getting upgrades on Marriott points and frequent flyer miles for years--a perk not found at roadside dives. But far be it from me to spoil your fun. Drop me off at the Marriott and stay where you choose. I sure hope they take credit cards.
At some point, I'll post our itinerary so you can check the Marriott website to see which of their properties have spontaneously combusted.
Finally, that is not my photo. I don't look like that. It's not my nose, hair and certainly not my burgeoning jowels (when did THOSE happen?). I am tall and blonde. Go ahead. I dare ya. (For that matter, Mr. Willie-Nelson-wanna-be doesn't look like that either. )
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
T Minus 24 - Countdown
I’ve added the other interstate shields under the Route 66 one for an important reason. While we intend to follow Route 66 for this trip, more often than not we’ll be following it from the interstate. See, we’ve only got eight days, and most of what I’ve read about driving this road is that two weeks is "rushing it". Or so they say. At any rate, it’s not an interstate, which means it won’t be as smooth, and we can’t go as fast as we could on a modern road.
I mention this only because our first day’s drive has to be from Chicago to St. Louis. I’m not sure what time we land at O’Hare, but traveling two-thirds the length of Illinois, then all the way to the Mississippi looks like it could be eight hours on a good road. Making diversionary trips (the whole point of this exercise) will only add to the time.
Not that I mind, mind you. It’s just that due to the circumstances regarding our lodging we need to avoid straying too far from the beaten path.
Or the nearest Marriot. I’m married to a Jewish girl, you know. If you thought for a moment that we’d be tumbling into whichever motel up ahead has a buzzing ‘vacancy’ sign, then you don’t know who we are. Or at least who she is.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Obligatory Cat Picture
This is also a medium sized picture, though you can click on it for the full-size version, which in this case is a healthy 800 pixels across. Google runs this operation, right? Only they could give away the hosting for stuff like this, God bless 'em.....