Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Old Caddies, spray paint and we're half way there!


 Saturday, Oct. 2, Amarillo, Texas --

Where else but in Texas and on Route 66 would you find the renowned Cadillac Ranch, a collection of 10 late '50s/early '60s Caddies buried nose first into the dirt, all at the same precise angle? This site is a pilgrimage for Route 66 road warriors and anyone else who's ever heard of it. But you don't just go to look at the cars, you help decorate them. Spray cans in hand, travelers from all over America and on the day we were there, Australia and New Zealand, leave messages and initials on the car bodies. 




The cars were first "planted" in 1974 and moved to its present location in 1997. Sources say they've been repainted (to look normal) several times, but the look seldom lasts long. As the days, weeks and months go by, layer upon layer of paint is sprayed on the cars; every once in a while a chunk of paint falls off (we picked up some for souvenirs and met
a fellow who lives nearby and collects them for artwork), disclosing the many different colors of paint that have been sprayed there. 


PSEB
T-Bird Tour
For our part, we brought red paint, but we found several partially used cans left by sprayed-out "artists" for others to use. On the wheels of one car, Gordon painted our names on the tires. On the underbelly of another he painted "57 T-Bird/Tour to L.A./10.2.10" and later painted "T-Birds Rule." 

It's impossible to know how soon the message will be obscured by another artist; your messages may last 15 days, 15 hours or just 15 minutes, so when our fellow Birders arrived several hours later they found only "PSEB," which we'd sprayed in honor of our club, Puget Sound Early Birds.

Feed lot silos
We had been warned about nearby Wildorado, where a cattle feed lot produces an unmistakable (and sometimes unbearable) odor; as suggested by our guidebook author Jerry McClanahan, we duly rolled up the windows to avoid the smell. But with the top down, it didn't make a whit of difference. Interesting here was a square gray silo and at the feed lot, Gordon found a wonderful abstract collection of criss-crossed pipes.

Note curtains on upstairs right
The hose and nozzle are still there!
Have you ever seen a gas station with gingham curtains? And a second floor? In Vega we found a marvelous restored Magnolia Gas station dating from 1924 when it was on the Ozark Trail, the dirt road that became Route 66. Magnolia Petroleum was established in 1894, and the name was purchased by Mobilgas in 1934. The next year the new owners were married in the station and lived upstairs in two rooms, hence the curtains.

We were heading into clouds, wondering if we'd have to put the top up today. All around us there was nothing but cows to interrupt the view to the horizon -- flat, flat and more flat.

The fun began when we landed at the Midpoint Cafe in Adrian, so named because it is precisely in the middle of Route 66: 1,139 miles from Chicago and 1,139 miles to Los Angeles. In business since the 1930s, the cafe began life with a packed-dirt floor that remained until the 1950s. 

Joann Harwell and our dessert
Today, it's known as the home of "ugly crust" pies. Baker Joann Harwell, who has worked there for 15 years, originated the term when she was unable to make perfect fluted crusts like her grandmother. Hey, they looked perfect to us! The signature pie, which we split, is a warm chocolate chip/pecan pie topped with a big scoop of vanilla ice cream, homemade hot fudge sauce and a lot of whipped cream. And a cherry! Rich and delicious, at least 3000 calories. We could feel our smaller arteries snapping shut while enjoying the most decadent dessert on the route!

Outside the Midpoint Café, we were approached by a fellow who bought a 1955 T-Bird for $300 in 1972 and hopes to sell it to send his grandkids to college. It doesn't run, he says, and it's not restored, but he expects to sell it for $100,000. Learning that ours, which does run and is restored, is insured for $41,000 was not good news for him!

Flies! Flies! And more flies! When we opened the car door after our Midpoint meal, hundreds of little guys swarmed out. They obviously were hitching a ride and didn't want to leave. And some stayed with us for miles and miles.

As we traveled toward New Mexico we began to see more green, the occasional mesa and several watering holes surrounded by thirsty cattle. Because there was a break in Route 66, we had to jump on I-40 for more than 18 miles. Farther into New Mexico we faced dark clouds, flat mesas, red rock and scrub pine dotting the landscape in little green puff balls. The dirt continues to be rich and red, but now it had a pinkish hue. 

In Tucumcari, N.M., we stopped to see the venerable Blue Swallow Motel, long a Route 66 icon, but found it surrounded by yellow caution tape. Concerned that something was amiss, Gordon went around back where some workers were boarding up windows and doors. He asked when they had closed, and received a short, curt answer from Mr. Friendly Owner: "Yesterday. We're closing for the winter like we do every year for the past 17 years." As if we should know this!

We reached our digs in Santa Rosa, N.M., ahead of some of the others and did a quick load of laundry. Gordon washed the car and after watching those black clouds all day, we opted to put up the top after nine days of driving in roadster mode. Good choice! About two hours later we had a doozie of a thunderstorm: bolt and sheet lightning, cracking and booming thunder--and a torrential downpour of Biblical proportions. It was pretty darned exciting! 

More tomorrow.

Judy and Gordon

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