Sioux Falls, S.D., Sept. 22: Generator Fails!
Our gloomy, gray morning matched our spirits when Bill and Doris' generator failed. Les, our master mechanic, donned his bright red coveralls, yanked out the recalcitrant part, got it to a repair shop, and soon it was back, fully rebuilt in a matter of an hour. Van's Auto Electric in Sioux Falls dropped everything on their schedule to get us back on the road. We dropped by to give our personal thanks, and then were on our way out of town.
We were in hog heaven, so to speak, as we passed the John Morrell packing plant with its building labeled Hog Pens and adjacent structure, Livestock Xchange. Little did we know that in the coming miles, we'd see lots of little piggies going to market, their little pink behinds showing through the openings in their travel pens. And, of course, if you didn't smell them coming, you smelled them going!
We were in hog heaven, so to speak, as we passed the John Morrell packing plant with its building labeled Hog Pens and adjacent structure, Livestock Xchange. Little did we know that in the coming miles, we'd see lots of little piggies going to market, their little pink behinds showing through the openings in their travel pens. And, of course, if you didn't smell them coming, you smelled them going!
Departing Sioux Falls, we were back in the flat lands where the yellow plowed-under cornfields disappeared off the horizon with just an occasional copse of green trees for contrast. Again we were on a stretch of I-90 highway that ran straight ahead as far as we could see, bearing no resemblance to the I-90 of Western Washington.
Earl and Jane in the T-Bird Pace Car have been invaluable to our tour; they’ve made this trip more than a half-dozen times and have developed local knowledge of the area – where to find a good truck stop for gas, a park to picnic – plus the historical and geographical facts they’ve gathered during their trips. We’ve all be grateful for their help and insight into the area.
Waterloo, Iowa, Sept. 23: We departed under gray clouds, milky skies and humidity. There were storms all around us that we hoped to avoid. Today we would be in a hotel on Joliet Rd. (aka Route 66) in Countryside, Ill., a Chicago suburb.
But first we had a long way to go and a short time to get there (Smokey, do you read me?). We've noticed that Midwest drivers tailgate. We mean REALLY tailgate, within 10 feet of the car in front, and sometimes there are up to six cars in a line doing this. It seems to be a way of life here; it reminds us of the autostradas in Italy, but just not as fast!
At 12:15 p.m, we crossed the Mississippi River into Illinois, but the day was not to be without incident. As we moved east, the crosswinds became stronger. While traveling on I-280, the lid to Les' empty lightweight car topper attached to his small trailer blew open at speed. We pulled to the side, secured it and at the next truck stop, he took it off and tossed it.
As Les was purchasing straps to tie down the lid to the trailer, he was approached by a man in an SUV who offered to give him some straps. While exchanging names, we learned this helpful stranger is a chiropractor who attended Palmer College, as did Les, and graduated just four years later. The Good Samaritan is Richard Everett, who practices at Princeton Chiropractic Center in Princeton, Ill.
"Are you really from Washington?" asked an SUV driver while we crept along in the Chicago traffic. "Yes, from Puget Sound," we replied. Turns out he used to live on Vashon Island (a mile across the water from our home in Gig Harbor) and could hardly believe we were there.
Once ensconced in our Countryside Motel, we ventured out with Gypsy (our GPS) leading the way to Dell Rhea's Chicken Basket, a renowned Route 66 restaurant since 1946, still in the family and still fabulous. We were met there by members of the Chicagoland T-Bird Club for a spectacular dinner and T-Bird fellowship. Hinsdale, Ill., residents Pete and Marylu Kramer made the arrangements, and we had a great time. Besides the delicious chicken, we had a chance to mingle with fellow T-Birders, and we celebrated Bill and Doris' 65th wedding anniversary with a decorated cake, singing and gifts from us Puget Sound Early Birds. 
Today was a three-state day: South Dakota, Minnesota and Iowa, where we actually encountered rolling hills and gentle valleys. Smokestacks and silos stood tall in the distance while dairy cows and on-the-hoof black angus steaks grazed in fertile fields. We were in a Grant Wood painting!
We passed by Clear Lake, Iowa, which may strike a chord with those who remember that this is where “the music died” in 1959 with the death of Buddy Holly, Richie Valens and the Big Bopper. Departing in bad weather with a teenage (!) pilot, they all perished when the plane crashed in a cornfield shortly after take-off. Gordon and I paid tribute by popping a Buddy Holly tape into the cassette player and singing along to “Rave On.”
Who knew that there was a Golden Spike on I-90? Apparently this highway was built from the East and from the West, meeting near the Minnesota state line where a Golden Spike at a rest stop commemorates the two sections meeting.
Odd sighting: A boat for sale, parked on its trailer on the side of the highway next to a cornfield.
Who knew that there was a Golden Spike on I-90? Apparently this highway was built from the East and from the West, meeting near the Minnesota state line where a Golden Spike at a rest stop commemorates the two sections meeting.
Odd sighting: A boat for sale, parked on its trailer on the side of the highway next to a cornfield.
Our stop in Waterloo gave us an opportunity to do laundry. Doris, Jane and I killed time shopping at the Dollar Store next door, then returned to watch our clothes dry – isn’t there a joke about something like that? Watching paint dry? Watching grass grow? We’d been warned to keep an eye on our drying clothes, so that is what we did.
It had been a long but satisfying day, bringing us ever closer to the end of our long, steady trek east. Tomorrow we’d be in Chicago and soon the adventure would begin!
It had been a long but satisfying day, bringing us ever closer to the end of our long, steady trek east. Tomorrow we’d be in Chicago and soon the adventure would begin!
Waterloo, Iowa, Sept. 23: We departed under gray clouds, milky skies and humidity. There were storms all around us that we hoped to avoid. Today we would be in a hotel on Joliet Rd. (aka Route 66) in Countryside, Ill., a Chicago suburb.
But first we had a long way to go and a short time to get there (Smokey, do you read me?). We've noticed that Midwest drivers tailgate. We mean REALLY tailgate, within 10 feet of the car in front, and sometimes there are up to six cars in a line doing this. It seems to be a way of life here; it reminds us of the autostradas in Italy, but just not as fast!
At 12:15 p.m, we crossed the Mississippi River into Illinois, but the day was not to be without incident. As we moved east, the crosswinds became stronger. While traveling on I-280, the lid to Les' empty lightweight car topper attached to his small trailer blew open at speed. We pulled to the side, secured it and at the next truck stop, he took it off and tossed it.
"Are you really from Washington?" asked an SUV driver while we crept along in the Chicago traffic. "Yes, from Puget Sound," we replied. Turns out he used to live on Vashon Island (a mile across the water from our home in Gig Harbor) and could hardly believe we were there.
Our thanks to all the Chicagoland T-Birders who came to dinner with us on a busy T-Bird weekend. We so enjoyed meeting you and were especially happy to talk with Bert Eisenhour, a founder of Classic Thunderbird Clubs International and an icon in the T-Bird world, and Liz Werth, the CTCI regional director.
Pete and Marylu kindly led us back to our hotel through some lovely residential areas, and soon we were in our little beds with dreams of Route 66 dancing in our heads. Tomorrow it all begins!
Countryside, Ill., Friday, Sept. 24: We're he-e-e-e-r-e! At last we're driving Route 66! To avoid some of the traffic, we slipped through beautiful midwestern side streets, passed the ominous-looking Old Joliet Prison, where Al Capone took up residence for a time. All along the way we were slowed by roadwork; Earl tells us that there are two seasons in the Midwest, winter and construction.
Our Pace Car is no more. Now there's an explanation:
We reached our first giant sighting at the Launching Pad Drive-In in Wilmington, Ill. Meet the Gemini Giant, holding a rocket. As you can see, we really enjoyed getting to know him. We all opted to sample the goodies at the drive-in, from sundaes to shakes; what the heck, eat dessert first!
As we wandered along Route 66, we came upon a caravan of vintage Chevys, headed as we were for the annual International Route 66 Mother Road Festival in Springfield, Ill. The T-Birds and Chevys met at the Odell restored gas station, a wonderful mix of old tools, gas cans, gas pumps, souvenirs and such.
Our next stop was Memory Lane in Lexington. One of the oldest sections of Route 66, this one-mile stretch has Burma Shave signs and old billboards to recapture the 1950s. However, it is only open several days a year to cars; otherwise you have to walk the area. And that's what we expected. But lucky us, the road was open today because of the Springfield event. So there we were, our own little birds on this remarkable road.
And on a personal note, one of my KD sorority sisters, Cheryl Sizer, who lives in Mahomet, Ill., met us at Memory Lane. It was great to see her in her own neighborhood, if only for a short time! Thanks, Cheryl, for making the trek to Lexington.
We're finding that Gypsy, our GPS, is doing pretty well in keeping us on Route 66. We programmed him (we have a male voice now) to avoid highways and for the most part, he agrees with our Route 66 literature and maps.
Charlie Gouveia, president/newsletter editor of For the Birds T-Bird club in Springfield, met us at our hotel and led us through the streets to a huge parking lot that was the staging area for the Route 66 parade and cruise-in to the historic downtown area. En route we picked up five Springfield T-Birds and arrived together. More than 1,000 cars lined up for the parade, and few of them were in groups such as ours.
It was a cacophony of testosterone and excessive horsepower as engine after engine revved up to begin the parade. A few cars ahead of us were several muscle-car drivers who were intent on laying down rubber on the road. They'd let the cars in front of them go ahead, then egged on by the crowd, they peeled out, burning rubber short and fast. Spectators cheered, and we inhaled the burned-rubber smoke from their antics. Still, it was a fun parade as people lined streets for six to eight miles, sitting in lawn chairs, on their truck tailgates, sidewalk benches or on curbs. We were popular, in some measure because there were nine of us, but the early classic T-Bird is an American icon; it simply attracts attention wherever we go.
Once we'd reached downtown, we parked among the displayed autos and walked to Augie's, a renowned restaurant where they set up a sidewalk table for about 22. The weather was perfect, and we were surrounded by collector cars of every imaginable kind. Just as we were finishing, Earl and Jane's son, Drew, who lives in Indianapolis, arrived to spend the night and next day with his parents. It was fun to meet someone we'd heard so much about.
After our leisurely dinner and goodbyes to our new friends, we returned to our cars, checked in at the beautiful President Abraham Lincoln Hotel in Springfield's historic district, and wended our sleepy and weary way to our absolutely lovely rooms on the hotel's club floor.
It was a glorious, wonderful, friendship-filled day and evening. Our thanks to Charlie Gouviea and all our fellow T-Birders in Springfield and environs for making our first day on Route 66 so memorable.
More to come tomorrow!
Judy and Gordon
Pete and Marylu kindly led us back to our hotel through some lovely residential areas, and soon we were in our little beds with dreams of Route 66 dancing in our heads. Tomorrow it all begins!
Countryside, Ill., Friday, Sept. 24: We're he-e-e-e-r-e! At last we're driving Route 66! To avoid some of the traffic, we slipped through beautiful midwestern side streets, passed the ominous-looking Old Joliet Prison, where Al Capone took up residence for a time. All along the way we were slowed by roadwork; Earl tells us that there are two seasons in the Midwest, winter and construction.
Our Pace Car is no more. Now there's an explanation:
And on a personal note, one of my KD sorority sisters, Cheryl Sizer, who lives in Mahomet, Ill., met us at Memory Lane. It was great to see her in her own neighborhood, if only for a short time! Thanks, Cheryl, for making the trek to Lexington.
We're finding that Gypsy, our GPS, is doing pretty well in keeping us on Route 66. We programmed him (we have a male voice now) to avoid highways and for the most part, he agrees with our Route 66 literature and maps.
It was a cacophony of testosterone and excessive horsepower as engine after engine revved up to begin the parade. A few cars ahead of us were several muscle-car drivers who were intent on laying down rubber on the road. They'd let the cars in front of them go ahead, then egged on by the crowd, they peeled out, burning rubber short and fast. Spectators cheered, and we inhaled the burned-rubber smoke from their antics. Still, it was a fun parade as people lined streets for six to eight miles, sitting in lawn chairs, on their truck tailgates, sidewalk benches or on curbs. We were popular, in some measure because there were nine of us, but the early classic T-Bird is an American icon; it simply attracts attention wherever we go.
Once we'd reached downtown, we parked among the displayed autos and walked to Augie's, a renowned restaurant where they set up a sidewalk table for about 22. The weather was perfect, and we were surrounded by collector cars of every imaginable kind. Just as we were finishing, Earl and Jane's son, Drew, who lives in Indianapolis, arrived to spend the night and next day with his parents. It was fun to meet someone we'd heard so much about.
After our leisurely dinner and goodbyes to our new friends, we returned to our cars, checked in at the beautiful President Abraham Lincoln Hotel in Springfield's historic district, and wended our sleepy and weary way to our absolutely lovely rooms on the hotel's club floor.
It was a glorious, wonderful, friendship-filled day and evening. Our thanks to Charlie Gouviea and all our fellow T-Birders in Springfield and environs for making our first day on Route 66 so memorable.
More to come tomorrow!
Judy and Gordon
You are having way too much fun! Thank you for sharing your adventures along Route 66. It brings back wonderful memories of cruising 66 back in 2004 in my '57 Bird.
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