 |
| At Sand Hill Curiosity Shop holding an original Route 66 sign |
If you were to tell me America has a highway that runs from
Chicago to Los Angeles, I would probably think you ran out of cool things to
tell me about because of course we do—this is America. But if you were to tell
me that this 2,400-mile stretch of Route 66, known as the Main Street of
America, is lined with tacky motels dripping in neon lights, spray-painted cars
partially buried in the ground, and other delightful tourist traps, I’d thank you
for describing my dream vacation and ask you for the car keys.
Today we drove 285 miles on Route 66 and made a handful of
stops along the way. We were mostly interested in visiting the locations that inspired
the Disney/Pixar movie Cars. Chad loves Cars, and Lightning
McQueen is his favorite character. Whenever we’re in Disneyland, he tries to
buy a shirt as a souvenir, but the shirts he likes are always size 3T or
smaller. Or they’re onesies.
Our first experience on Route 66 was Sand Hill Curiosity
Shop in Erick, OK. The owner, Harley Russell, is famous for his shop in “the
redneck capitol of the world.” We parked on a street next to the small brick
building which has been plastered with metal signs advertising all kind of
companies. A sign over the door boasts, “Insanity at its finest,” and I read it
just as a man clad in denim overalls—and only denim overalls—marched up to us
and instructed Chad to take a photo of him with a tour group that was wrapping
up a visit. The man's white, chest-length beard was untrimmed and his hair was
slicked back in a pony tail. He introduced himself as Harley and then explained
exactly how our visit was going to go.
We could take photos of anything in his store (nothing was for sale), and when we
were ready, he’d perform for us by singing “Route 66” and then play the national anthem on an
old Gibson guitar, and we could leave a donation in one of many cash-filled
glass bowls that were located throughout the store.
He also mentioned that he doesn’t abide by rules that the
government has created and we were free to smoke anything we wanted while we
were there.
 |
| Harley Russell, Mediocre Music Maker |
Chad and I took pictures and were chatting with Harley when
a family of four walked in. The family had darker skin than us and as they came up to say hello, Harley said, “Are y'all from Spain or Italy?” The smiling father said, “No,
we’re from…”
“Argentina?” Harley guessed.
“We’re from France,” the father said.
Harley made the six of us sit in chairs as he performed his
two songs up close and personal. When he was done, he asked if any of us had
questions. I had about 400, but I only asked one.
I asked about his time with the Disney Imagineers
and Pixar artists when they came to his shop researching and getting
inspiration for Cars. Harley pointed to a glass display full of Pixar
swag they sent him and his invitation to the world premiere of Cars
which he declined because he “don’t go nowhere. They do their thing and I do
mine.”
 |
| A thank-you note from Kathy Mangum, Executive Producer of Cars Land |
I wanted to stay and ask Harley more questions, but he was busy
telling the French woman that she was hotter than a firecracker
and to watch out because he was about to french kiss her.
 |
| U-Drop Inn in Shamrock, TX |
In Amarillo (I just typed it wrong, too), we ate lunch at
The Big Texan Steak Ranch. Home to the 72-oz. steak challenge. The challenge states that if a
customer can eat a 72-oz. steak, a baked potato, shrimp cocktail, salad,
and a roll in under 1 hour, then the $72.00 meal is free. People who attempt the challenge sit at a table on a podium so the other diners can watch. There are 6 chairs at the table and 6 timers on the wall. There are also 6 garbage cans on the floor just in case. I am so glad no one attempted it while we were there. I couldn’t even
finish half of my 9 oz. ribeye and Chad didn’t finished his chicken sandwich. The Big Texan Steak Ranch challenge is one I would be happy to fail miserably.
 |
| Cadillac Ranch |
When we got in the car, it was over 100 degrees outside and
we were both feeling weary from travel. We decided our last stop would be
Cadillac Ranch just outside Amarillo. Cadillac Ranch consists of 10 Cadillacs
buried nose first in the ground in the middle of a huge dusty field. Visitors
are welcome to spray paint the cars, and the ground is littered with empty
spray cans and lids because throwing things away when you’re done with them is
really hard. When we pulled up, a throng of people were trudging through the
field with spray paint cans in tow like they were on a pilgrimage to Mecca. The heat made breathing difficult and the air smelled like paint fumes. We took a few pictures, admired the cars,
and got back in the car for the last leg of our trip.
 |
| Slug Bug Ranch is also a thing |
 |
| Welcome to New Mexico! |
Entering New Mexico was such a relief. Texas is massively
flat and unattractive (sorry, Texans…and God). For much of the drive, all we
saw were windmills and they extended as far as the eye could see. Most of them
weren’t even turning (Spinning? Windmilling?). The minute we crossed into New
Mexico the landscape began to transform. Hills and mesas jutted out of the
ground and the colors became more vivid. Also, New Mexico has the best “Welcome
To…” sign we’ve seen so far. In the distance we could see dark grey, heavy
clouds and it looked like rain was coming. We found a hotel in Tucumcari and as
we brought our bags inside, the first raindrops began to fall. And a
full-blown thunder and lightning storm quickly followed. I wanted to go out in the
storm but Chad didn’t, so we got sandwiches and he stayed in the room while I
drove a mile down the road to the Blue Swallow Inn. In the 3 minutes I stood
outside taking pictures of the neon lights, the rain soaked me from head
to toe. So, I just put my phone in my pocket, stood in my flip flops in ankle-deep water, watched the spectacular storm, and let it drench me to the bone.
 |
| Blue Swallow Motel |
 |
| Each room comes with its own garage |
 |
| Teepee Curios |
“The spirit of Route 66 is in the details: every
scratch on a fender, every curl of paint on a weathered billboard, every blade
of grass growing up through a cracked street.” – John Lasseter
-Rachel
No comments:
Post a Comment