En Route 66
The mother of all mother road trips
September–October 2008
Late summer 2008, my friend and I spent 2½ weeks driving through Route 66 — or, what was left of it by then — from Chicago to Santa Monica.
It was a lot of fun. Below, I picked some photos and blog entries from that trip.
The hardest of decisions.
- Whether to take my MacBook Air (lighter, cooler) or my MacBook Pro (more room for photos, CD burner if we need some music).
- Which one of the many books about cars I should take to read on the plane.
- How to remember to buy the fourth season of The Office (to be released this Tuesday) while still in Chicago, so we can watch it every evening.
- What kind of songs to upload on my iPhone so we have a good variety, but still enough room to buy something new from iTunes Music Store.
In other words: it’s hard to be a nerd.
Leaving tomorrow night for Chicago. Very, very excited. As always, my modus operandi is to try to maximize my vacation time, so I am flying out 11pm Friday, and arriving early, early in the morning. Again, it will be Starbucks and no doubt copious amounts of Diet Dr Pepper that will keep me alive.
To hell and back.
Things went to hell within 15 minutes of leaving Chicago.
Still on the interstate, we got stuck for more than half an hour in heavy traffic, in 100-degree heat, surrounded by huge trucks. We decided to leave the highway and drive around on local roads a little bit — but so did seemingly everyone else, and, after about two minutes of driving, we were still once again.
It took us a while to cut through all of this. Fortunately, we lost most of the other cars to more important roads, and we were finally ready to see the actual Route 66. Cadence was driving, I was juggling the old-school printed maps with one hand and iPhone/GPS in the other, and here we were, already tired and cranky, ready to take that one final exit…
…which happened to be blocked by a police car. Apparently there was some sort of an accident, and the whole interchange was unavailable.
But we soldiered on, drove around some more, and finally, there we were, on the mother road, ready to start… at about 3pm. The spirits were high, the tank full, some appropriately uplifting music playing in the background, and 2,500 miles ahead of us.
And then it started raining.
At this moment we just burst into laughter, and I guess we did something right, because the rain went away as soon as it started, and the rest of the day we enjoyed going from Chicago all the way to Springfield, visiting a couple of points of interest on our way — some historical gas stations, cells, clock towers and libraries.
Tomorrow we’re welcoming our second state with St. Louis.
The Hotel Awards! Part 1.
The Fewest Wall Sockets Award is a popular category, but we have to hand this one out to Best Western Springfield, where the only free one wasn’t even that easy to find — between two notebooks, two phones, two cameras and a GPS device to charge, we need our mains!
The Stinkiest Hotel Award is split between Best Western Springfield’s damp room, and St. Louis Hyatt’s, erm, rich palette of their lobby.
THE NOISIEST HOTEL AWARD goes to Hyatt in St. Louis! Between what must be a jet engine installed in the underground parking, and the loudest shower in the history of showering, it’s really a no-contest.
And the coveted The Most Brazen Hotel Staff Award goes to Super 8 in River Grove, where the owner would catch us accidentally just before checking out, and keep on suggesting to tip him, first indirectly (“I left some chocolates on your desk,” “it is my name on the business card”), and then rather straightforwardly going for “You take care of me?” while rubbing his chin with his fingers.
More, undoubtedly, to come.
Bad habits.
“You ordered Diet Coke?”
“Yeah.”
“Isn’t it unhealthy to drink it after midnight? Won’t it keep you awake?”
“Yeah, I know. I guess you could safely say I’m really addicted to it.”
“Well, that’s you then. But I don’t want to drink my can now.”
“Oh, but I didn’t order the other can for you.”
One step forward, one step back.
Forward: “Welcome to Mountain Time Zone.”
Back: “Checkout time: 10:00am. Thank you.”
Chasing ghost towns.
Today we were truly lost for the first time. I misread the guide, which in turn made the GPS contradict the iPhone. It was getting dark, we were on a dirt road, driving toward “Oklahoma’s official ghost town”… or so we thought. Took us an hour. The first town we found turned out to be not the right one… but, interestingly enough, more “ghost” than the one we eventually ended up in (Foss, OK). So we still hope to find some true abandoned towns, with rust, decay, cobwebs, no living soul, you know, the works.
We are clearly approaching Texas, too. More red dirt, more accents, more trucks, more “funny” insects and animals. More Dr Pepper everywhere, in all sorts of variants and flavours. And our conversation topic du jour switched from food poisoning to angry people with shotguns. I know that’s typecasting, but both our guidebooks mention those, if not quite that literally.
World’s largest…
- covered wagon! (Lincoln, Illinois)
- Rocker! (Fanning, Missouri)
- Gift Store! (Lebanon, Missouri)
Haven’t seen any of those, but boy, do they get advertised along the way.
Rainbow sky.
On the left, various shades of the most amazingly saturated blue you’ve ever seen. A distant, dark, massive ridge that seems to go on and on for miles. Time and again, a lonely windmill, forgotten by everyone and everything but the relentless forces of nature.
On the right, the sky in bright yellows and oranges. As if reminding us it’ll be back tomorrow, the sun setting the horizon on fire just minutes before giving up on us entirely. Red sand slowly taking over the grass. Lonely trees punctuating vast plains that only now start understanding they will be hills and mountains soon enough.
Ahead, dark grays with big patches of orange. Layers and layers of clouds, lit by white sparks of lightnings promising a violent storm.
1,100 miles behind us, 1,100 miles ahead of us, the very definition of beautiful.
Welcome to New Mexico.
Reverse shotgun, n.
To claim (or try to claim) driving rights for a journey or part of a journey.
Cadence: Tomorrow we are driving to Santa Fe.
Marcin: Reverse shotgun!
See also: shotgun
The Hotel Awards! Part 2.
The Most Awesome Neon Award goes to Blue Swallow Motel. The guidebook recommended looking at the quality of neons to determine whether the motel itself is of a good standard. Well, myth busted! But still, great neon (even though it doesn’t have a swooshy arrow), and I donated some money for its maintenance.
The Worst Shower Temperature Consistency Award goes to Garrett’s Desert Inn. I heard alternating cold/hot water is good for your health, but can I be in control of that?
THE NOISIEST HOTEL AWARD gets upgraded and handed over not once, but twice! I mentioned the loud air conditioning in the parking of Hyatt, but Blue Swallow Motel had a similar one in our room. Add to this a noisy toilet, and you have a complete picture. But nothing beats Super 8 in Elk City. Noisy airco? Check. A bar with loud music nearby? Check. Drunk people coming from the said bar and making noise at 1, 2, 3, 4am? Check. Then there’s a cleaning lady who knocks and shouts at as despite a “no moleste” sign on our door, and you seriously start regretting not buying a shotgun in Texas.
The Best Laundry Experience Award and it has to be Garrett’s Desert Inn. It was in a very nice game/work out room (so you’re not bored), the staff was friendly and exchanged my bills to quarters and sold me some washing supplies, plus it was there (no other hotel had it) and exactly when I needed it!
The Biggest TV Nod goes to Super 8 in Elk City. The Most Messed-Up TV Award (3 channels, broke altogether the next day) and it’s Garrett’s Desert Inn. Not that it matters much, since we watch everything on my notebook.
Until the next installment!
Plans.
Third day in a row…
Before midnight:
“Hey, let’s go to sleep, wake up around 9, get some breakfast, and drive out early, so we can see some things while they’re still open.”
Around 2am:
“God dammit.”
World’s… (part 2)
- tallest non-working oilery! (Elk City, Oklahoma)
- largest petrified tree! (Geronimo, Arizona)
- longest map of Route 66! (Meteor City, Arizona)
Given a long enough collection of specifiers, you can put largest/longest/tallest/&c. in front of pretty much anything.
One step forward, one step sideways.
Forward: “It’s 7pm now here in Arizona.”
Back: waiting 40 minutes for a meal in a restaurant.
The Hotel Awards! Part 3.
The It’s The Little Things That Matter Award goes to La Posada for all the light switches conveniently put next to the entrance. Think it’s obvious? The other 15 hotels disagree.
The Least Removed From Civilization Award goes to La Posada as well. The hotel itself is firmly entrenched in 1920s, and yet sports the fastest Internet connection of our trip. Kudos! (The runner up for this award was Deluxe Inn Motel with its DirecTV DVR next to a TV. The second runner up was Elk City’s Super 8 and their huge TV.)
The Farthest Removed From Civilization Award (also known as Are You Trying To Kill Me Award) is, ironically, awarded to La Posada too. No vending machine with Diet Coke? It should be a crime in all of the continental states.
The Ignorance Is A Virtue Award and it’s La Posada again. Nary a mention of a check out time. Can we stay on forever?
The Honorable Blues Brother Mention goes to Deluxe Inn Motel, for trains passing by every 10 minutes. I love trains, so it didn’t matter to me. Cadence surely disagrees.
If it was possible, I would love living in a bookstore or a library. Until then, a big bookstore open until 11pm right on the other side of the street is the next best thing, and hence the Priorities Gotten Straight Award that goes to Howard Johnson!
The Almost Electrocuted Award goes to Deluxe Inn Motel. The Almost Broke A Leg Award goes to Howard Johnson. The Almost Broke A Leg In A Completely Different Situation Award goes to Howard Johnson too! (The first one was a faulty socket. The second one was a thing protruding from under a bed that Cadence hit with his leg. The last one was lights turning off in the middle of me taking a shower.)
And, the Killing Spree Award goes to Blue Swallow Motel. Kill all 12 mosquitos before you go to sleep! (And hope there weren’t 13.)
Dramatis personae.
We say “he” when we mean the main paper guidebook we’re using. It’s been written by some old-fashioned guy with, sometimes, quite a different taste than ours. (The Square House Museum he recommended as one of the best he’s ever seen was mediocre in our opinion.)
“She” would be the GPS device, sporting a female voice. It sounds nice in theory, but in reality, it features striking resemblance to both Stephen Hawking’s speech synthesizer, and Larry The Cable Guy.
The iPhone is “it.” Used only as a backup, and annoying as hell with the interminable interaction delays introduced by the 2.0 OS. (Apple, come on, what’s going on?)
Spending so much time with all of them, and you start recognizing their different personalities. He’s messy. She’s insecure. It’s… lazy. And they argue with each other constantly. He has some truly obsolete data, and his odometer readings are as imprecise as you can imagine. She, especially recently, often asks us to turn into roads that don’t exist. It… well, I already mentioned why sometimes I feel like throwing it out the window.
We developed strategies to cope, and strategies to reconcile. We learned to take his recommendations and directions with a grain of salt, and don’t rely on them exclusively. We double-check her dubious directions, and we cheat when we want her to go to a place she doesn’t recognize (either by typing in Main Street or any random street in a city, or looking up a nearby street name via iPhone first). With iPhone maps, we learned that we should always choose “unverified” position instead of a “verified” one, however counterintuitive it seems.
But it shouldn’t be that hard, should it? There are times when we have to whip out the notebook, or look at the paper maps. We don’t mind, since we’re almost never in a hurry, but what about those who drive for living?
Product improvements.
Current GPS routing settings:
- Shortest time
- Shortest distance
- Most use of freeways
- Least use of freeways
Proposed GPS routing settings:
- Simplest route
- Most fun driving
- Most landmarks along the way
- Most use of roads that actually exist
- Least use of city neighbourhoods that have you fear for your life
- Least use of freeways names of whose are not easy to botch using the device’s inferior speech generation algorithms
Seriously, you should’ve heard those.
Moving forward.
Tim Falconer in his excellent Drive: A road trip through our complicated affair with the automobile:
A road trip is a dangerous experiment in interpersonal relations. At every turn, it seems, dissension looms. There are uncomfortable hours in a car, shared hotel rooms and decisions to make on what to do and where to eat and drink. Throw in obnoxious tics and habits, differing political views and clashing personalities, and a road trip is a donnybrook waiting to happen.
…but we’re going anyway, driving from the City of Skyscrapers all the way down to the City of Angels. 4,000 kilometers (being European, I have the right to choose whichever unit makes my numbers look more impressive) in a rented car. Yes, that includes the extortionist $1,000 fee for returning it on the opposite coast. Roughly following Route 66 and taking 2½ weeks to do so seems to be the extent of the plan we have so far.
This is my first true road trip (the longest one so far was a two-day drive from San Francisco to San Diego, so I am not sure if it even counts), and a chance to see a little bit more of America than its four unrepresentative corners.
I will try to update this as often as I can — photographic talent, writing skills, and gods of AT&T Wireless permitting.
We’re leaving in a week. Our first hotel is next to a cemetery. God I’m excited.
