A Route 66 Adventure

Trip Log: Twin Lake, Michigan to Mesquite, Nevada.

We left Twin Lake in the rain and dark about 8:00 a.m. on Monday, December 14. After a quick stop at McDonald’s for breakfast, we hit the highway. It continued to rain off and on all day, and the wind picked up out of the southwest eventually blowing hard on the nose – so much for the fuel mileage. We slid across 80-94 in Indiana to I-65 south.

Being Good Sam Club members, we have a substantial discount when we use the Flying J/Pilot fuel card, so we were planning the trip around that brand as much as possible. The first fuel stop was in Dimwiddie (cute name), Indiana so that we would have enough fuel to make it across Illinois. At Roselawn we left the “big road” behind to cut across to Kankakee, Illinois. There we grabbed I-57 south to Champaign, and then I-70 west. We had chosen not to take the time to find Route 66 in Illinois, although there are a number of interesting sounding sites. We wanted to get to a spot where we could hook up the trailer and de-winterize in preparation for living aboard.

We spent the first night shivering in Cahokia, Illinois (suburb of East St. Louis) at an “urban” campground nestled among freight yards and commercial properties. It was colder on our first night out than when we left Michigan. (This would be a portent of worse to come.)  I wouldn’t recommend Cahokia RV Parque as a destination, but the Sawmill BBQ restaurant on-site is fabulous. We shared a half-rack and a couple sides and were very pleased: yum! If I am ever driving through the area at mealtime in the future, I would make this stop again just for the ribs. It’s really easy-off easy-on from the Interstate.

After a side-trip to a park where we could snap a picture of the Arch, we headed across the Mighty Mississippi into St. Louis, Missouri. We chose to skip a number of downtown Route 66 options in favor of a west side beginning. We connected with Route 66, “The Mother Road” in the suburbs and found it underwhelming for many miles – the Route 66 corridor is four-lane stop-and-go commercial for miles and miles. Nothing to see here, so at Gray Summit we reconnected with I-44 and skipped down to Cuba, MO.

The town of Cuba has some really neat murals on many buildings and a fully restored Phillips 66 station. Taking a left onto the Route again, we went to Fanning for a look at the world’s largest rocking chair (according to Guinness – the record book, not the stout). There’s also a neat mural on the shop there.

From the giant chair we continued down Route 66 into St. James. We had hoped to visit the wine museum at Rosati, but they were closed for the season. The winery/tasting room at St. James was open, however, and we found two cool Route 66 hats to add to the collection (there may have been a bottle or two of wine purchased as well).

Because the sun was getting low, we jumped back on I-44 and boogied down to Sarcoxie, MO for a stop at the Beagle Bay RV Park. We got in after the office was closed, but the owner gave us all the help we needed over the phone, so we set up for the night. We considered a fire under the stars, but the bed sounded better, so we packed it in for night two.

Day three may be one of my favorites. From Joplin, MO we took the Mother Road into Kansas, the state with the dubious distinction of having the fewest miles of Route 66. They may be few, but they are loaded with interesting attractions. My favorite was the town of Galena. The people have embraced their 66-ness in a big way. Besides having a quaint downtown restored to 30-ish style, there is a gas station on the outskirts with the truck that inspired film-maker, John Laseter, to create Tow Mater for the movie CARS.

The very friendly owner of the coffee shop in town told us that Baxter Springs, just down the Route, was the inspiration for CARS’ Radiator Springs and a local character who can turn his feet completely backwards gave Lasseter the idea to have Tow Mater run in reverse much of the time. He also told us to look for the Field of Dreams ballpark built for that movie when we headed into Oklahoma.

Because we were headed for a lakeside campground for the night, we wanted to get in early enough to enjoy the sunset (at four-something), so we bypassed the Route and made our way down I-44 to the 66 cut-off into Arcadia, Oklahoma. The City of Edmond keeps a really nice campground on Lake Arcadia where we pulled into a shoreline site just in time to watch the sun set over the lake while enjoying a couple adult beverages.

Night four in Arcadia was our first time without a full hook-up site, so I attempted to fill the water tank on our way in. As it happens, this was the first time we tried to use the on-board water supply, and I proved myself not up to the task. I connected the hose to what I thought was the filler and pumped away merrily until I thought we had enough for the night. When we switched the pump on, however, it spit and sputtered nothing but pink foamy winterizing antifreeze. This was fitting in a way since the temperature was dropping fast outside.

Thinking something was wrong with the system, we called a Shasta dealer in Oklahoma City in the morning and arranged for a service stop. What I learned was embarrasing; I had connected the water hose to the black water flush-out instead of the fresh water fill. Once they actually filled the tank, the system functioned perfectly. Looking back, my stupidity may have saved us a broken water line because there was heavy frost on the windshield that morning. Water in the trailer lines might have frozen overnight had they been filled. I often repeat the saw that God watches over fools and Englishmen, and I am both.

Leaving Okla City, we took I-40 to Elk City, Oklahoma where the National Route 66 Museum is located. Our guide book said this was a must-see, and we agree. Whereas every hamlet and town along the Route claims some kind of museum, the one at Elk City is worth the price of admission ($4 for seniors). They have four different subject specific buildings and a restored (transported) town square from the Mother Road heyday. If it hadn’t been snowing (that’s right, snowing), we would have spent more time. As it was, we wanted to get on the road and find the warmth we were snow-birding for.

With time and distance in mind, we climbed back on I-40 and headed for Amarillo, Texas. Worried about freezing water lines (again), we wanted a full hook-up site to get heat in the trailer to protect the lines. I ran the generator outside with a space heater under the trailer and furnace cooking inside, so we made it through the night. For dinner we ate at The Big Texan, following the theme of “giant alerts” in our guide book. As a bonus, they had a shuttle that took us right from our site in Amarillo RV Ranch to the restaurant. Everything there was big, including the prices, but the food was excellent, and the atmosphere was worth a couple extra bucks. (If you can eat 72 ounces of steak and all the trimmings in one hour, they will give it to you for free.)

 But what a disappointment: here we’re in Texas and freezing. The forecast for our next stop in Albuquerque was still sadly cold, so we shelved the Route 66 plans and decided to make a run for the thaw. We hit the road on that fifth day around 8 a.m. and I drove pretty much straight through until 2 a.m. Saturday when we hit Kingman, Arizona and temperatures above freezing. Because Route 66 parallels I-40 very closely, we did see a number of the sites mentioned in our guide book right from the Interstate. This was not exactly what we planned, but then neither was the temperature.

We slept in the Petro Truck Stop until 8 a.m. and had breakfast at the Iron Skillet; as truck stop restaurants go, this isn’t too bad in my experience. With breakfast over and a souvenir cactus garden in hand, we fueled up and headed up Arizona  Route 93 to Las Vegas, Nevada. We had to leave the remainder of Route 66 for another trip, since our final destination was calling us “home” for the winter. We slid past Hoover Dam and Las Vegas in a final run to Mesquite, Nevada, and pulled into Desert Skies RV Resort around 2 p.m. Mountain Time (we think).

 We are on the Time Zone and state border; Arizona is Mountain Time and Nevada is Pacific. The park we are in is literally ON the border of Arizona and Nevada, so we are setting our clocks to Pacific time to coordinate with the town where we will be shopping and dining  when Karen says the menu reads “Reservations.” As I write this, the clock says 4:20 (no jokes, please) and the sun is setting. We had a great adventure on the Mother Road, but missed enough to make another attempt worth trying. Maybe next year.