Wigwams, Deserts and Ghost Towns

This is the part of our journey that Bob has been excited about. Route 66. The Mother Road. Highway 66 was established on November 11, 1926 and was one of the original roads in the US Highway system. It ran from Chicago to Santa Monica and covered a total of almost 2,500 miles. To those of us born in the 50’s, it represented freedom, adventure and the very spirit of America. It had its own music (Get Your Kicks on Route 66), its own television, (Route 66), and its own literature, (Grapes of Wrath). People who owned businesses along the Route prospered and when the Interstate Highway System began to encroach upon the Mother Road, people fought to keep the highway alive. While parts have fallen into disuse and disrepair, a great deal of the Mother Road remains and is a popular travel route today. Much of Route 66 is now designated as Historic Route 66 and has much to explore, from the educational and interesting, to the bizarre and kitschy. Our course would take us from Santa Monica to Missouri, where we would peel off to visit Jessica and Ben.

Having already explored the Santa Monica area, we began in Rialto, California. We are using an online tool called Roadtrippers to help us find our way, and another called the Ultimate Route 66 Guide. But nothing could fully prepare us for the surprises of the Mother Road.

Our first surprise was that the Wigwam Village #7 Motel, was not in Rialto. When it was moved, I have no clue, but it is now in San Bernadino. And not a very nice part of San Bernadino at that. The wigwams were behind a metal fence, and although it did appear that one could stay there, I wouldn’t advise it. The area was rife with liquor stores, and although there were gas stations, no gas station had rest rooms. Not for customers. Not for anyone. Which was unfortunate for me, because I had waited too long and was desperate. The roads through this area had many pits and bumps so Penny needed her lift kit almost continuously. We were glad to get out of there.

The next stop was about 80 miles away (yes, we found a rest room) and was called the Calico Ghost Town in Yermo, California. It is way off the beaten path (as is much of 66) and up a weather beaten and sandy hill. It is currently supported by the county in the Mojave Desert. Calico was originally a silver mining town founded in 1881, and is considered a California Historical Landmark. The buildings have been restored, although many were demolished and rebuilt to appear as a western-themed town. The town offers mine tours, gold panning, restaurants and a narrow-gauge Calico & Odessa Railroad. Unfortunately, Covid has taken its toll on the offerings and many things were not operational. There was a sort of a fun-house with mirrors and a magic house manned by western-clothed staff who invited us in, but mostly the town was fun to walk through and take pictures. The restaurants were closed, although one could buy cold drinks, and there were numerous gift shops selling ‘indian’ jewelry, t-shirts and Calico key rings, magnets and shot glasses. An episode of Death Valley Days, hosted by Ronald Reagan was filmed here. Bob got lots of pictures. Penny thought the whole place was pretty dusty but she has proven to be game for almost anything.

Our next stop was about 80 miles away in Amboy, California. Roy’s is in the Mojave Desert, and was once a bustling place. It opened in 1938 and because of where it is, was the best and only place to find a bed, gas and a hot meal for miles. Today it is barren, windswept and desolate. I thought at first that it was deserted. We pulled in at the same time as another car, from which jumped several strapping young men, and I confess I had an initial fear that we would be murdered, robbed and left for dead along the highway. In fact, I thought I should take a picture of their license plate and send it to my sister so she could get our murderers apprehended after the fact. Of course, I then realized we had no internet, so I gave myself up to fate. But they were, of course, harmless, so as Bob took photo after photo of Penny, the deserted motel and the dilapidated signage, I walked over to the main building to see if I could find a rest room. (The rest room issue will be a common theme of this part of the trip).

Inside I met the first of the many fascinating people along the Mother Road. Miss Nicole and her pleasant dog, Zuma, keep the gift shop open and the rest room clean. Miss Nicole wore the retro clothing you would have expected to see in the fifties and sixties, made sure the music of the period was playing, and although too young to remember Frank Sinatra or Dean Martin, confessed to me that she liked Dean much better than Frank. When I told her I agreed and thought Frank was pretty full of himself, we became friends. Miss Nicole loved Penny, had her picture taken with her, sold me a great Route 66 map to augment my online tools (and thank heaven because much of the Route is too far from cell towers), and let me give some treats to Zuma, making him my friend as well.

By now it was getting late and Miss Nicole told us that the nearest hotels were in Needles, Arizona, about an hours’ drive away, so we took our leave. We followed Route 66, until it just…ended. Apparently, a road crew was repairing something or other so the road, which would lead us to Route 40 and civilization, was closed. We had come quite some distance, and an alternate road curved off into the sunset, so Bob headed down that road. I was not thrilled by this. Here we are, two elderly people, driving without direction through the Mojave Desert, at night, on a road not named or plotted on our map. But after about 20 minutes, Bob’s instincts proved correct and we came out on Route 40, and finally to Needles. We spent the night in a clean, but basic hotel, had pot roast at the local Wagon Wheel restaurant, drank a few beers in hopes that they would make us less tasty in case of bedbugs, and got a good night’s sleep.

Our first stop next day was Oatman, Arizona. Oatman is a village in the Black Mountains of Mohave County. It started as a sleepy mining camp until two prospectors struck a $10 million gold find in 1915. The population of Oatman, already established but small, then grew to more than 3,500 over the course of that next year. The town was named after a young girl, Olive Oatman, who was captured by Indians from the Tolkepayas Tribe, eventually coming to live with the Mohave Tribe, who adopted her as their own. She was released at Fort Yuma in 1856. For about a decade after the gold find in 1915, the Oatman mines were among the largest gold mines in the American west. The town was shut down by the United Eastern Mining Company in 1924 as part of the war effort, when other metals were needed. While the town remained stable for a while because of the business on route 66, the new highway bypassed Oatman and the town became deserted by the 1960’s.

Today, Oatman is billed as a living ghost town. It is famous for the wild burros that wander the streets, (and contribute that wild west burro poop smell to the entire town), and you can buy burro feed and enjoy feeding and petting the burros. They do kick, though, but mostly each other. Many buildings have been rebuilt into gift shops, and offer a plethora of wild west tchotchkes. There is a wild west show and gunfight although we missed that. For me, the coolest part was the drive to Oatman and then from Oatman to Kingman, our next stop. Oatman is in the middle of some of the most rugged desert in the area, and the drive from Oatman to Kingman is spectacular, although not for the faint of heart. Several months ago, Bob and I took Penny on the Tail of the Dragon, and this road made the Tail look easy. And I drove! I’ve come a long way, baby!

In Kingman, we stopped at Mr. D’z Route 66 Diner. I needed serious sustenance after that drive and the homemade rootbeer floats at Mr. D’z were just the thing. Once refreshed, we jumped back on the Mother Road for Seligman, Arizona, for Delgadillo’s Snow Cap Drive-In. This Drive-In was built in 1953 by Juan Delgadillo mostly from scrap lumber he got from the nearby Santa Fe Railway lumberyard. Juan was a comedian, probably similar to Bob, as evidenced from his jokes that make you groan. When you order a beverage, the server (Juan’s son John) asks you if you want a straw, and hands you a bunch of broom straws. If you ask for a small drink, you get a thimble full. The doors have knobs on both sides—only one opens the door. When John Lasseter from Pixar was researching the history of Route 66 to make the movie Cars, he met with members of the Delgadillo family, and they are acknowledged in the movie credits. Bob spent a lot of time here taking pictures of all the old memorabilia and it was tough to get him out. We really weren’t hungry when we got there, having downed all that homemade root beer, but we ordered a hot fudge marshmallow milkshake and there was nothing left.

We wanted to end the day in Williams, Arizona, since our next destination would be the Grand Canyon National Park, and Williams is only an hour from there. By the time we made it to Williams we were hungry again, so we went to Rod’s Steak House, on Route 66. The steaks were delicious, but we had the worst margaritas in the history of margaritas. It tasted like they mixed up a package of powdered lemonade mix, dumped in some tequila and called it a day. The town of Williams has lots of Route 66 shops, old cars and many hotels to suit every budget. They also have the Grand Canyon Railway that will take you to the South Rim. The Bearizona wildlife park is a drive through park, that, while we didn’t go there, seems like a fun family thing to do while visiting the area.

We went to bed, full and excited to have our last National Park ahead of us. The Grand Canyon!