Route 66
Summer ’15

Starting that Tuesday, we began our Southwest trip. My daughter and I set out to see Route 66 wares — the Meteor Crater, standing on a corner in Winslow AZ, a few other stops — before meeting my bride who flew into Sky Harbor for a couple days in our favorite cities. From there: Sedona, Grand Canyon, Antelope Canyon, Southern Utah, Monument Valley, Four Corners, white water on the Royal Gorge, and Pikes Peak. The girls fly home from Denver and I stop by a few friends’ places on the way home. 21 days and 6,000 miles in the 4.8is. We loved our trip on the northern loop the year before, so we were looking forward to good times.

We spent a lot of time catching some Route 66 icons and learning some history. It started in earnest at our stop at the Oklahoma City Memorial. My daughter had never heard of the Oklahoma City bombing. She was very touched by what she learned.

The memorial features empty chairs that represent the 168 people — including 19 children — who died in 1995. It is a very moving and solemn place, situated within the footprint where the building actually stood. The ‘survivors wall’ is the last remaining part of the original structure. It frames the rear of the memorial. A nice place to sit in the shade and reflect.

By the end of our short time there, my daughter was really struck by the events. She was especially mindful of the innocent children who died that day. The memorial features a wall with tiles made by school children after the bombing. My daughter was moved to write her thoughts. She left a hair band that held her ponytail. We were quiet and in need of some fun.

After the memorial we were off to a Route 66 icon I’d done some reading about. Pop’s Soda Ranch — supposedly more sodas for sale than anywhere in the world. I really went for a pic of the huge soda bottle. On the way we stopped at random places for photos — because we had no place to be, when we saw a sign for Scenic View, we turned off to take a look.

My very patient daughter let me fiddle with angles and light. She knew I’d make it up to her at the soda fountain. We had root beer-enhanced bread pudding and a chocolate shake, shopped for $2.19 sodas, and waited for the giant glowing bottle to light up. Her grandfather is known to the children as ‘Pop,’ so this was a fun chance to get him a memento.

Cadillac Ranch was a disgusting place — putrid mud, used paint cans everywhere, an abnormal number of dead frogs. But when we parked, I noticed a white pre-facelift 3.0 E53 with California plates. We’d meet that car again.

One of the Cadillacs had a freshly painted hashtag with the same name as a family member, reading “Family roadtrip 2015.” My daughter had used the exact same hashtag two days earlier. She looked them up on Instagram: a BMW. White hood. Delaminated roundel. Holy crap. We had to find them.

“You don’t have to be car people to be good people. But it does seem that most good people are car people.”

We caught up with them at a gas station. Same night in Albuquerque. We sat with them for two hours. They’d spent $2k on their X5 before the trip and the window regulator had already failed. I told them these were very common items. I pointed them to Xoutpost. We would not expect to see them again. But it was a road trip.

Our last day as a pair before my wife flew in. We stopped at the Continental Divide — we’d crossed it the year before but never stopped. This time we even shopped in the kitschy little gift store. She secured a trip companion much better than last year’s dead bird she’d named Bob.

The Painted Desert was just enough to take your breath away. She was awestruck. The National Park features the largest collection of petrified wood in the world — for a child, the idea that a desert was once a tropical rain forest is just as impressive as the scale of the trees. The road out toward Holbrook stretches more lonely than it was. My daughter napped. The 4.8’s legs got a little stretch.

At the WigWam Hotel in Holbrook — and there were our friends in the white X5. Again. Road trips, man. Strange things happen.

Winslow, AZ. She said, “Daddy? This looks like a dump.” Stick with that instinct, honey. You’ll need it when you’re trying to figure out boys. But we got our shot.

The Meteor Crater. Last time I found it a hokey destination worth about 20 minutes and it was free. Now they charge $30 for an adult and child. Still, I wanted her to see it. She loved it. It would have been a bargain at twice the price. We did not eat at the Subway.

In a 45-minute traffic standstill outside Flagstaff — our friends in the white X5. Again. We shared a good laugh and best wishes. We would not see them again. A short hop to Phoenix. Old Town Scottsdale. Old friends. Some math revealed we’d known each other for twenty years. That’s the other thing about road trips — they have a way of pulling people together from all directions at once.

My wife flew into Sky Harbor. The three of us together for the second half. Sedona. Grand Canyon. An Antelope Canyon guide tour — the way it is meant to be seen. Monument Valley from the north, the classic postcard view. Four Corners — my daughter had to have the pic of her feet on the plaque, same as I did at her age, and like me was impressed only with having been there rather than what she saw. Mesa Verde cliff dwellings. White water on the Royal Gorge. Pikes Peak. The girls fly home from Denver. I stop by friends on the way back.

Eastern Colorado on the drive home: a road so straight you couldn’t stay out of triple digits.