Getting Kicks

December 9-10

After I sent my first e-mail on this trip, I got this response from my friend Art:

“If you ever chance to motor west,

Take my way, the highway that’s the best.

Get your kicks on Route 66!”

What’s now known as Historic Route 66 joins 1-40 around Oklahoma City. The original highway came down in a southerly arc from Chicago and somewhere in or near OKC pointed just about due west toward Santa Monica.

I-40 runs on the same route as many sections of the old road.  Sometimes old 66’s path veers off to the north or south of the Interstate’s course. There are usually signs to tell you when that happens.

One of those places is in Clinton, Oklahoma, where we veered off to see the Oklahoma Route 66 Museum.

Route 66, built in the 1920s, was one of the original U.S. highways.

It had several names. It was sometimes called the Will Rogers Highway, at least in Oklahoma. I’m not sure if that name was used elsewhere.

It was also the Mother Road, a name Steinbeck used in “The Grapes of Wrath.” It was the route West for fugitives from the Dust Bowl.

One of the first things you see when you walk into the museum is an old Phillips 66 pump. 

Each room is dedicated to a decade or so of the road’s history. A room about the 30s includes a display of a migrant family camped by the car at the roadside. A push of a button brings up Woody Guthrie singing a song about the highway.

A big theme for the 40s is gasoline rationing, which encouraged hitch-hiking and bus travel.

There was a decorated van representing the 60s.

When we set out, I was hoping to see some of the novelties that Route 66 was known for. Maybe a three-headed snake, say.

I haven’t found anything quite like that yet, but we did see a barrel with baby rattlers at the museum. One of the rattlers had a picture of Winnie the Pooh on it.

The 50s were summed up by a bright and shiny soda shop, which appears to be a replica of an actual place that operated on the road.

There’s another snack shop outside the building. It’s a tiny box-like structure that may be a restored original or a replica. 

We checked it out to see if we would get a hot dog. It was closed, but appeared to be complete. Maybe it’s used on special occasions.

In any event, all we had to do to get that hot dog was drive across the highway to the Hub Diner. That, too, looks bright, shiny, and authentic 50s.

I actually drank a Dr. Pepper. I haven’t tasted that in years.

We made it to the Sleep Inn in Shamrock, Texas, around three. The room was excellent, spacious and comfortable. 

I asked the lady at the desk about places to eat. She recommended a local restaurant called the Mesquite Canyon Steakhouse.

Reviews online were overwhelmingly positive. I also learned the place was BYOB. 

Triple J Liquor was practically around the block from the hotel. The steakhouse was about a mile straight up the road from there. So we were set.

I had picked up a bottle of Mirassou Pinot Noir. I read the description on the label. I didn’t get strawberry or raspberry. But it had the touch of cherry, also toast and oak. A very nice drink.

The food wasn’t great, but was OK. I might go back to the steakhouse if I’m ever in Shamrock again.

I had a small sirloin, tasty but a little tough, with two kinds of beans, green and pinto. They were fine, but I’ve had better.

Joanna had green beans, too, along with catfish and a baked sweet potato. We shared the potato and that was very good.

Friday we headed for New Mexico. 

The winds have become ferocious in the region. It was difficult to open the car door. Tumbleweed and grit are flying through the air. Nothing like the Dust Bowl, but the sky on the horizon is often gray and sometimes tan with dust.

On the way we followed about 20 miles of old Route 66 that ran a loop through Amarillo and back to I-40. 

It had been billed as a colorful preservation of the old road.

We passed lots of eateries in beat-up buildings, including Tacos Garcia, which a billboard had called “a Texas tradition.” We also saw rows of small motels deteriorating over time. Indeed, the entire stretch was rusty and broken, with several vacant properties.

I was originally planning to stay here, and now I’m glad I changed my mind.

We made a brief stop at Cadillac Ranch, where we fought the wind to get a close look. As you can see in the photo of the day, Joanna shopped for a car.

We stopped at a Texas travel information center for a few minutes. There was a sign outside warning of rattlesnakes, but I didn’t see any.

The wind was even fiercer here. There was one brief instant when we felt like mimes walking against the wind. No, really. We were actually stopped for an instant in mid-stride by the headwind.

There was a display inside about wind power. The windmill-driven pumps, a standard of Western movies, was instrumental in opening the dryer parts of the Panhandle to farming.

Last time we crossed Texas, we went pretty much through the middle of the state. The landscape was littered with oil pumps.

This time, farther north, there is an almost endless array of wind turbines generating electricity.

Right after we crossed into New Mexico, we made a similar stop. 

This time, we saw a cutout Billy the Kid with a red string tie added for Christmas.

We also met a man at one of those machines that press pennies into souvenir medallions.

He was standing at the machine pressing one after another. He was working from a roll of pennies.

He told us that he does this wherever he goes and trades the tokens with people all over the world.

We’re in Tucumcari, New Mexico. I stopped here mainly because it’s a comfortable day’s travel from our last stop and equally convenient to our next, Santa Fe.

I had heard the name and thought it would be a place of some size. It isn’t. 

I managed to find somewhere more interesting than McDonald’s for dinner—the Pow Wow Restaurant and Lizard Lounge. The resident lizard, a four-foot high alligator mannequin was dressed for Christmas in a Santa suit. Not quite as dapper as Billy the Kid’s tie.

Most of the menu was Mexican, which is all right for me because I haven’t had tamales for a while. 

Joanna’s system can’t take that kind of heat, so she opted for spaghetti and meatballs, which she said was surprisingly good. The meatballs, she said, were among the best she has eaten.

My tamales were very good, too. I couldn’t decide between red or green chili, so the waitress suggested I have both. 

We had a little of the house wine. I had a Pinot Grigio, and Joanna had Pinot Noir.

The white was OK. The red was probably from California and very interesting, a little bit nutty and spicy maybe.

After that, we called it a day.

Love and health to all. And remember to watch out for rattlers.

Harry and Joanna