FORGOTTEN AMERICA: MY JOURNEY THROUGH ROUTE 66. OKLAHOMA TO TEXAS

 

It was by no means by farthest journey but certainly my most ambitious in terms of preparation and demand and also my most rewarding. On paper a road trip through the heart of America from Oklahoma City to Las Vegas indicates
nothing out of the ordinary, but this was a celebration of Route 66, America’s Highway or, as she is more commonly known, the Mother Road, on her centennial.

Cutting from the heartland to the West Coast, this once indispensable pathway to the Pacific has fallen into neglect in the last forty years but it remains the embodiment of America from the vastness of the land to the changing landscapes, to the celebration of the American spirit and the struggles of the American experience. Pop-culture has kept it alive and though it has been decommissioned it is never empty. It is fabled more than any other road and in the story of Route 66 lies in many ways the story of America, in tragedy and triumph.

I had visited parts of Route 66 before. In 2017, I visited the start point in Chicago and have been to its end point many times on visits to Santa Monica. Also in 2017, I road through it from Southern California to Oatman, Arizona. But this would be my first exploration of the road that defines Americana and I began my journey in Oklahoma City, a fitting place for Oklahoma is where the Okies also began their journey westward on the Mother Road to the promised pastures of California after the Dust Bowl of destroyed the last of their crops in 1934. This desperate journey, in the great tradition of other journeys west throughout our history from Lewis and Clark to the Oregon Trail, was immortalized by John Steinbeck in his masterpiece The Grapes of Wrath, from which Route 66  earned not only its namesake as the Mother Road but an eternal place in the story of America.

 Over ninety years before me, the Okies traversed Route 66 to the great unknown, much like their own forefathers did building this country.

Much like America and her history, Route 66 has many faces and many renditions and not only due to the changing landscapes. It began its history as a practical route to the west, became a trail of survival for many who saw their livelihoods destroyed, then it became a road of dreams and the host of Americana in everything from diners and kitschy motels to gigantic muffler men and the kookiest of attractions. Domestically alone, it became a place for generations to get their kicks, but it has mesmerized foreigners as well as the stretch of land to best experience our country.

I was never going to see much of Oklahoma on this trip as my plan was to pick up the rental car at Will Rogers International Airport and drive straight to Shamrock, Texas. This meant that I would be missing the Blue Whale of Catoosa, the concrete leviathan built by Hugh Davis, a retired zoologist in 1972 as a gift for his wife and grandchildren, but I was looking forward to seeing much of the legendary fields of the Sooner State. Due to a mishap with the airline, however, I ended up arriving in Oklahoma City much later, in the dawn hours of the next morning to be exact. This meant I had to cancel my rental car with Hertz but luckily was able to arrange for a Jeep Wrangler with Budget. And off I set for the near-three-hour drive to Texas in the darkness.

I could see very little once I left Oklahoma City, but the vastness of the plains was evident nonetheless. And even here signs of life came out to greet this weary traveler. My first encounter was a coyote that hurried across the road in front of the Jeep and into the wheat fields followed by a small herd of deer by the roadside (in the darkness I couldn’t tell if they were white-tail or mule deer, the two species found in the state).

I did not reach Shamrock until close to four in the morning and checked into the Western Motel. I was tired but not enough so to not notice the delightful U-Drop Inn Café across the street or two bats circling the sky above me. My adventure had started and the next day was going to be the true first taste of life on the road that shaped a continent.