Today is a travel day after a great stay at Red Rock Canyon. It's back onto the Interstate in search of the "Mother Road", the infamous Route 66!
Tulsa, Oklahoma native, Cyrus Avery is known as the father of Route 66. The statue above shows Avery in his Model T meeting a wagonload of workers coming from the oil fields out west. It was Avery who in 1927 established the US Highway 66 Association to promote the paving of "the Main Street of America". The route would cross 8 states as it weaved it's way from Chicago, Ill to Santa Monica, California; over 2400 miles. During the Great Depression it became a lifeline of promise as the destitute headed West. The tribulation was made famous by another of John Steinbeck's famous reads, "The Grapes of Wrath". We were on our way this fine day to put a few miles on my RV on the iconic Route 66. Destination: the Route 66 Museum in Clinton, Oklahoma. Modern day Interstate 40 follows along a good portion of the original "Mother Road" and by jumping off the interstate you can visit some of it's historic roadside diners, hotels, gas stations and souvenir shops. Problem is however when Route 66 was decommissioned so was the funding for it's upkeep. As luck would have it, I selected a section that hadn't seen maintenace since probably the last Model T made the trek! Realizing that if this trip down memory lane was all that important to me it would probably cost me a new set of shocks I decided to hightail it for the Museum.
I stop at a "Greasy Spoon" for a real Cowboy breakfast. As I sit and observe the clientele there I am suddenly struck by the need to buy me a pair of denim "bib" overalls. Everyone there looks like Jim Longstaff and I just want to fit in! It would be my quest for the remainder of the day to locate me a pair of them britches. I went into the museum and had a great time reading all the displays. The history was fascinating and the photographs of the actual road building proved how monumental this task really was.
What is truly amazing and rather dates me is I looked very, very closely at the suitcases on top of this station wagon and my parents had the same exact powder blue Samsonite luggage!!! Eerie!!!!!
It had been a great morning road trip down memory lane and it was now time to head off to the longest existing Native American Trading Post in Oklahoma. It is the Mohawk Lodge Indian Store and since 1892 it has been operated by 4 generations of the same Native American family.
I strolled up to the porch, climbed a set of rickety steps to the front door. The hand printed sign said: "OPEN" "Knock hard, if we don't come knock again. We are old and move slow"!!!!!!! I knocked 4 times and sure enough the door opened and sure enough they were old, really old! She invited me in to a dusty old store loaded to the ceiling with stuff. Really good stuff! Her husband was sitting in a chair in the back with two wads of gauze hanging out of his mouth. Just been to the dentist, his wife explained. I immediately went into Preventive Care mode and explained the usual post op. He was sweet, refused to stop talking and probably hemorrhaged to death after I left. We talked about everything. I am fascinated by a Comanche war chief named Quanah Parker (name of the Lake I climbed near at Wichita Mountain Game Preserve) and she had original photographs of him that were amazing. I could have spent the day with them. The ultimate "small world" connection was that they have been in York, Maine many times on holiday!!!!!! I bought a woolen blanket for my RV bed that has awesome Buffaloes woven into it and bid this fascinating couple farewell until they come again to Maine. I suspect they will be moving even slower by then!!!! |
Back on Interstate 40 and on to Elk City, OK where I understand there is a Western clothing store where I just might find my britches. Pulled into "The Circle A" western store and "moseyed on in like I was from these parts" and asked the pretty, little thing behind the counter if they had any "bib" overhauls. Her response exposed my cowboy charade immediately. "Do you need FR?", she asked. I stood there dazed and had to ask what FR meant to a cowboy. She nonchalantly replied, "Fire retardant". What?!! Since when is the ability of you britches to retard a blazing inferno got anything to do with looking like a cowboy?!! I tucked my tail between my legs and skedaddled. I really didn't want a pair of "bib" overalls anyway.
Now onto the true west; just crossed the Texas border and by gosh things sure are big here!! Heading just south of Amarillo to my next campsite, Palo Duro Canyon. Palo Duro Canyon is the second largest canyon in the United States (we all know who number one is!). What is unique about it is you can drive down into the floor of the canyon and camp there. The drive in atop the Great Plains remains absolutely flat and then out of nowhere is this huge hole in the ground. One thousand feet deep and and 120 miles long. Amazing! |
The road into the canyon was a "white knuckle'r" and needless to say once our campsite was set up I was happy to never move again if possible. I couldn't even think about going back up that road! Sleep came easy after a day filled with excitement.