Route 66 Series: 100 Years of Awesome

Over the course of several articles on this website, I thought I had said all I needed to say about Route 66. The Mother Road. A truly unique traveling experience in a fast-paced world where travel has become… well, not as fun as it used to be. I’m sure many of you remember some of the various pieces I wrote about the many places we got a chance to visit when, in 2019, my husband and I traveled the entirety of Route 66. A trip across America that took us just under three weeks. Three weeks crammed with neon lights, roadside cafes, crazy car art, and burros. Many, many wild burros.

 

 

Yes, I thought I had said all I needed to say about all that. Until I realized that this year, the fabulous Route 66 turns 100.

I decided I just couldn’t let that one go by. I’m not going to go into much detail in this post about the history of this amazing road (although I did do an article about that, and you can check it out by clicking here). Instead, in honor of this most incredible birthday for this most incredible road, I wanted to write down some of my thoughts about that old highway. Some memories and feelings from a trip that remains a favorite despite all the adventures we have taken. I guess you could call this post an official closer to my beloved Route 66 series.

As always, one of the best places to start with a post like this is at the very beginning. Our first day on Old Route 66. It was just pouring down the rain on that day, which definitely threw a wet blanket over the start to our trip. It even created some stress as we plodded through sopping wet downtown Chicago trying to find the start sign for the famous highway. For the obligatory photo op, of course. Because we have to get those, rain or shine! We did eventually find it, and we did manage to get a photo (rain-soaked isn’t my best look, but we take what we can get in situations like that).

Once we got in the car though, things got even more rocky. Because as it turns out, traveling Route 66 was a bit of an adjustment for two people who were used to a much more modern and hurried form of travel. In the movie Cars, Sally the Porsche says that people traveled Route 66 “not to make good time, but to have a good time.” Which sounds easy enough, but it actually took some getting used to. I mean, I just wasn’t used to using a handheld map instead of the GPS to navigate the way. I wasn’t used to cracked roads and slightly bumpy surfaces. I wasn’t used to the wide open spaces. The vastness. The nothingness. The stretches of time where it was just us and that road.

 

And the stops themselves were quite a gut check. Because I can’t deny there’s a certain convenience to modern roadside rest areas. They’re easy to find and even easier to operate. Bathrooms here. McDonald’s there. Get in, get out, goodbye. But on Route 66? Every stop is an attraction. A little mini adventure inside the great big one. The storefronts often have chipped paint and splintered wood. Faded signs. They even look a bit scary at times. But right inside the window, there is beauty and warmth. Candy and trinkets that you just can’t find anywhere else. Quirky shopkeepers loaded with kindness. Who are always ready to welcome anyone into their world.

And the pacing. Perhaps that was the biggest adjustment of all. On the big modern freeways, you can travel at a decent clip, and one day’s drive will get you pretty far down the road. Not so on Route 66. In fact, five or six hours of driving won’t get you very far at all. Not only because there are so many stops and so much to see, but also because of the very slow nature of these stops. Even in the tiniest pump station, the shop owners are proud of what they have to share with the world. Of the hospitality they can give to anyone who needs it. They want to show you around what they’ve built, every nook and cranny. They want to get to know you. They want to take a picture with you. They want to feed you chili dogs (true story). They want to show off a collection of Hot Wheels cars that is probably one of the finest and most complete in the world, yet no one on the fast-paced freeway even knows it’s there.

 

And finally, there is the quiet. The major highways are crowded with people. The rest stops have a plethora of strangers hurrying here and there. The gas pumps are always humming with activity. On Route 66, as sad as it might seem, there’s hardly anyone. Stretches and stretches of road go by where you might not even encounter a single other car. And while that was kind of frightening to me at first (what if we break down? What if we run into trouble? What if there’s an emergency? What if we get eaten by a giant whale???), we got used to it.

Eventually. All things considered, I would say it took us a good few days to settle into that old mother road and how it really works. We had to learn that it isn’t there for speed. It’s there for adventure. For making new friends. For carving out memories for yourself that will last a lifetime. Route 66 is the ultimate place to stop and smell the roses that are planted in the rusted out old cars on the side of the road. An illustration of how humans can find beauty in just about anything (click here). And after those first few days of adjusting, I felt… unclenched. Relaxed. Decompressed. I felt like some good alone time with me and that road (and my wonderful husband) was, perhaps, the medicine I had needed all along and didn’t even really realize it.

 

Once we learned all that (and once I really fell into my groove as navigator), the trip became something else entirely. An adventure that reminded me, above all else, that sometimes it’s not the destination, it’s the journey. Each morning that I woke up in a strange, small, yet cozy hotel, with the sun streaming in the window and the day waiting for me outside, I felt filled with promise. With the buzzing bees of excitement. Not because I knew what was in store, but because I didn’t.

Oh sure, I could page through my Route 66 guide and get the broad strokes of where we were headed and what ground we would like to cover, but there’s so many things on Route 66 that you don’t plan for. A cute old-fashioned pump station. A lookout with a stunning view. A roadside gift shop with all kinds of little souvenirs, odds, and ends (and a bunny who ran for president – click here). It meant that each day had a certain element of the unknown. And for someone with raging OCD, that would normally be a bad thing. However, on this trip, it was… well, kind of beautiful. Neat. Something that made me all the more anxious to get up, get dressed, and get back on the road.

That road with all of its beautiful imperfections. Its twists and turns through quirky small towns, fertile farm fields, and isolated natural landmarks. Until you get a bit further west and it takes you through a completely different kind of America. One filled with deserts, cacti, and complicated rock formations. Petrified forests. Dry, barren wastelands. Yet it has its own particular kind of charm despite the burning heat and boiling road surface.

I’ve been on all sorts of adventures in many different places across the globe. Yet Route 66 has long been a stand out in my impressive travel memory bank. And now that the road is celebrating 100 years, it has really made me reflect on that trip. It has made me miss that road. Yet it has also filled me with comfort knowing that the road is still there. It has survived. It has survived an entire century of ups and downs, curves and twists. Weather events.

 

And it has survived, albeit barely, being left behind. When the major freeways went in, Route 66 faded into the background of highway travel. People just kind of moved on with their lives, and they moved onto the modern conveniences and shiny pavements of modern travel. But Route 66 celebrating 100 years is a strong reminder that it won’t fade away completely. It will still be there, in its quieter corners of the maps, reminding us what travel can be if you really and truly give it a chance. If you slow down, if you stop and smell the roses.

 

Route 66 is still the best place to go to get your kicks. And to remind yourself that life is indeed a highway. Buckle up, and try not to let it pass you by.