A Stroke Of Bad Luck

Amarillo is where I connected with Route 66... the fabled "mother road"... for many years a subject for writers, songsters, and TV shows alike. Although the I-40 highway has decimated local businesses and it's unique culture... Route 66 (or the small pieces that remain) has endured in the hearts of many. To me it will always represent the spirit of adventure.

On my way out of town Thursday I had to stop at the Cadillac Ranch. In 1974 local artists took barely running or junk Cadillacs... years representing different phases in it's evolutionary timeline (notably the birth and subsequent death of the "tail-fin")... and half buried them nose first in the ground, the angle corresponding to the Great Pyramid of Giza in Egypt. The piece is supposed to symbolize the paradox of American's "sense of place", i.e. roadside attractions (like the ranch itself)... and the mobility of the automobile. Travelers from all over the world venture to a cow pasture outside of Amarillo proper to see it. To me it represents the "real" Route 66 during it's prime.



I had a little trouble finding the ranch and needed to stop for directions. I spotted a dilapidated, abandoned gas station with a truck parked next to it. I decided to stop and ask the for guidance. I walked up the vehicle to discover the driver, a grizzly old-timer, was... ummm, was... was NOT meditating! I was hoping for directions but all he said was "GO AWAY!!!" Sorry folks, no photos.

My next stop was Tucumcari, NM. A small town that contains remnants, fossils really, of Route 66's glorious past. The best example is the Blue Swallow Motel. It has been host to travelers since 1939. Others are boarded up, long defunct businesses whose once grand neon signs are now left to rot in the desert. There's a place in the world for these charismatic and colorful "mom and pop" operations... just as there are for chains like Burger King or Holiday Inn. It's a shame. Too much of this country looks exactly the same. This was the case with my next stop, Roswell, NM.



I arrived in Roswell hoping to chase down aliens. The two critical destinations being the International UFO Museum And Research Center and Alien Zone. Both were closed by the time I checked into the motel. My research would have to begin the following day. I decided to take a ride downtown to get the lay of the land. It was not impressive. Roswell is teeming with Applebee's, Wal-Mart and their ilk. I could have been anywhere. The one saving grace was my motel... The Frontier. It's a single level establishment with a nifty atomic era neon sign... nothing else like it in town.