If you look at a modern day map, Route 66 no longer exists. In the western states, it's been replaced by a thick red line labeled I-40, which turns into the I-44 and the I-55 the further north it goes. It's not until you look really close that you see the three grey offshoots that are still marked 66--all in California and Arizona. These last remaining pieces of America's most famous highway look quite a lot different than the Interstate-replaced route; while the 40 barrels straight on through, taking the fastest route from A to B, Route 66 meanders through the mountains and valleys, prairies and fields, connecting small towns to big cities, taking travelers through parts unknown. Route 66 wasn't worried about being the fastest highway--from the time it became an official highway in 1926, it just wanted Americans to see and experience their own country.
And eighty-six years later, that's just what I was going to do.
{this is a photo-and-word-heavy post, so click through if you don't mind!}
Part I covers Victorville, California to Seligman, Arizona.
And here's a little Jerry Lee Lewis to get you through a teensy bit of this long post!
I packed my suitcase a few days before leaving because I was too darn excited to wait. I packed many unpractical things, as I often do, dreaming of the specific and dreamy scenarios I hoped to find myself in. You can see my Argus c-4 in the right corner of my suitcase, which is what I used for most of the following photos, though some are taken with a digital camera, and others with a cell phone!
We took off from my Mema's house in the central valley, and headed for Victorville, which was the most logical place to pick up Route 66 without going too far out of our way. Technically, 66 'ends' in Santa Monica, at the ocean, and 'begins' in Chicago, Illinois. Most migrants during the Depression and otherwise used the road to head west, toward California, where they thought they would find a better life (they didn't). In the Post-war years, a majority of motorists were also heading west to see Hollywood and Disneyland, as well as the still-mysterious Southwest, so unfortunately my mom and I were heading in the opposite direction of history! But oh well.
We picked up the original Route 66 outside of Ludlow, CA. The road wasn't in as bad a shape as either of us thought it might be. A few cars and motorcycles passed us heading west, and occasionally the I-40 came into view, weaving in and out of sight, but for the most part all was still. It rained a few times, though there was hardly any clouds in the sky, and the sun turned the raindrops into diamonds as they hit our windshield.
As we whizzed past crumbling buildings and slow-moving trains, the road slowly deteriorated. Cracks and pots holes from years past became more common than smooth patches of road. Occasionally the entire road disappeared beneath wash outs, and we were driving through small rivers reflecting the sky like glass.
Thunderstorms moved overhead and let loose, pummeling us with thick rain drops. Distant lightning strikes touched the earth. A rainbow appeared overhead, and the sky changed colors. We spent the night in a town called Needles, just a few miles from the Arizona border. Lightning continued to illuminate the sky, and the rain came down harder than ever. A family of French tourists stood beneath the lobby's awning, snapping photos of the orange sky and talking to each other excitedly.
The next morning we woke to sticky, humid air. We were cautioned against driving the the next leg of the original highway, due to its penchant for wash outs and landslides, and its dangerous switchbacks. We decided to heed the warnings and take the I-40, missing out on Oatman, which is only accessible by that dangerous bit of Route 66. Oatman is named for Olive Oatman, a woman who was abducted by Yavapai Indians in the 1850s. From The Sound of Shaking Paper:
Olive's family was traveling alone through Arizona, when they were ambushed by a group of Yavapai Indians. The Yavapai murdered all of the family members except for Olive, age thirteen, her sister Mary, age seven, and Lorenzo, age fifteen, whom they clubbed and left for dead (but survived). The Yavapai Indians took Olive and her sister Mary into captivity. Mary died from starvation while the girls were still in Yavapai possession. Olive was later traded to a group of Mohave Indians, supposedly for two horses and some blankets. Olive lived a much happier life with the Mohave. She assimilated with them completely, becoming one of their group. The significance of the tattoo was to identify her as a Mohave in the afterlife, thus the tattoo indicates that she was accepted fully into the Mohave tribe.
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| Olive Oatman |
Olive was later released by the Mohave, and eventually settled in the area that is now known as Oatman. For those that saw my earlier post about Lily Bell from Hell on Wheels, there is another character on that show called Eva, who is partially based on Olive. I didn't know the history of Oatman before we decided to pass it up, so I was quite sad when I found out we had missed such an interesting place. However, I don't suppose it would have been worth getting washed off the road!
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| Eva from HoW |
Once we exited the I-40 onto the next drivable patch of 66, we whizzed right past the Hackberry General Store without realizing it would be there. We slowed down on the empty road and went back. The parking lot was buzzing. Several motor homes were parked, their doors and windows open with children hanging out chatting to one another, eating snacks and sipping sodas.The unmistakable sounds of German wafted from the open windows of the car next to us.
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| I hardly ever see old Pepsi cola machines! They're almost always Coca-cola |
The General Store sold everything from prickly pear jam to leather biker vests. The ceilings were covered in rusted license plates and 66 memorabilia. A world map was hung on one wall, pins sticking out from where tourists had come from. Outside, run down old cars were lined up like grave stones, and a koi pond was nestled behind some reeds. There was an empty picnic table and a lonely old tree swing that I gave some attention to for a bit, but when the sky turned dark, we got back on the road.
We drove through Peach Springs, a small town that boasts an entrance to the Grand Canyon Caverns. We pulled off the road to take a photo of a lonely looking dinosaur, only to get caught in a sudden downpour, which caused me to jostle the camera.
By the time we reached Seligman, the skies were clear. Seligman is full of the kind of kitsch one expects to find on Route 66. Tin road signs and 50 year-old advertisements for soda pop, buildings painted in blue and white stars, promises of the best tasting burgers you’ve ever had. Supposedly, Seligman was the main inspiration for the town of Radiator Springs in Disney’s Cars. When we stopped in at Historic Seligman Sundries, the shopkeeper was happily telling a group of people about the "Hollywood people" that came to the town some years before.
We got an ice cream cone at the Snow Cap Drive-In before heading toward the Grand Canyon...
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Oh my, this post is a lot! Since I wrote a pretty substantial paper about 66, it's kinda hard not to talk about the history of some of the sites! I just find it fascinating, but I know it's quite a lot to take in, and if all my posts are like this, then I'll be posting about my road trip for months, haha. I'll try to break them up with posts about different things, just so this blog doesn't turn into Rachel's Annoying Travel Ramblings.
