And as quickly as it started, my tour of Route 66 ends.  Tomorrow morning I leave LA for Philly.  We’ll not have time to make it from Rialto to Santa Monica, unfortunately, but I’ll probably drag my cousin Mike on that leg of the trip sometime.

A few people have asked about Illinois, which I didn’t have time to cover – perhaps next year I’ll resurrect this blog for that leg of the trip.

Thanks, to all of you loyal readers out there.  I hope you had as much fun reading as I did writing.  My journal got 88 hits on July 12, which is something of a new record for what I thought would be a pretty much overlooked blog.

One final note:  Lots of European and Australian  travelers on 66!  Probably more than American, honestly (thank God for a weak US Dollar, eh?).

Just remember – 15-20% is the standard Diner tip, and always leave a buck or two for your bartender!

Wigwam Motels were found throughout the US in the 40′s and 50′s.  I believe that two remain, both along 66 and one in Rialto where we’re spending the evening. 

Each “wigwam” is an individual concrete cabin shaped like a teepee with a round room.  They’re surprisingly fun.

The faded advertising slogan around our camp-like motel reads “do it in a teepee” – though I also believe that previous owners were much kinder to prostitutes than the current administration, and wonder if this was the slogan for the chain.

Highly recommended if you’re ever traveling through Rialto – ultra clean and well-manicured grounds.

I mentioned last post about the abundance of lava rock through the Mojave along 66 – I wanted to post a picture of as much near Ludlow, where we stopped at a diner for lunch.

A word about the diner in Ludlow:  I’m not sure what happened on our visit, but service was really, really slow.  It seemed that there was only one, overwhelmed waitress who took back my iceberg lettuce salad when she realized that it didn’t come with my dinner.

Why it took forever to have our orders taken, forever for our food to arrive, and forever to be noticed thereafter (I skipped out on some AMAZING looking homemade pie in the cooler because service was so slow), I do not know… but that my mistaken iceberg salad was INSTANTLY removed within 20 seconds of being placed in front of me absolutely shocks the conscience.

Much more to my utter delight was a great little ruin in Newberry Springs – a fairly well preserved Whiting Brothers Gas Station, complete with vintage pumps!  I squeal with delight!

66 Seems to stretch on to infinity in the Mojave Desert between Cadiz Summit and Amboy.  At 102 degrees, I couldn’t go barefoot for a picture (I tried for about four seconds)

Amboy is home to Roy’s, a defunct motel, cafe and service station full of great Raygun Gothic architecture.  But wait!  The wealthy owner of the Juan Pollo restaurant chain has purchased it and is restoring it! 

What were ruins a few years ago that I would have picked through is once more looking good, and selling gas and tee shirts! 

Even if the motel is not operating, it’s clear that money has been invested in curb appeal.

Amboy is also home to the Amboy Crater, a large volcanic crater that is responsible for the black lava flows throughout parts of the desert.  I never knew the Mojave to be an area of volcanic activity, but the abundance of lava rock everywhere along 66 seems to make it the case.

In the 1940′s, the steep grade of the east- bound lanes on Route 66 left many-a-motorist with an overheated engine in California. 

Cadiz Summit sprang up as part of the solution, at the top of the hill. 

The vintage picture of the summit, which I’ve used as my blog header for the past seven days, shows tourist cabins and a service station. 

Cadiz Summit now exists as graffiti-infested ruins, as seen in my picture taken today from about the same location.  There is a Century 21 sign at the Summit, though I don’t know whether it is for sale.

Route 66 follows a perilous, twisty mountain path along the Oatman Highway just before the California Border.  It’s narrow.  There are blind, hairpin curves.  There’s no guard rail.  It’s great!

Notice the road behind me… I wonder how many motorists went off into the ravine at too high a speed?

East of Seligman, somebody has restored a variety of vintage Burma Shave signs.  It really adds a nice touch to the drive. 

For those unfamiliar, Burma Shave was a shaving cream from the 1920′s, and their advertisements were tiny roadside one-liners that formed a jingle as you passed down the highway.

Oatman Highway reminded me of one in particular:

Angels that guard you
While you drive
Often Retire
At Sixty-Five

The Oatman Highway is better navigated at 15-20 miles per hour, co-incidentally.

Why there is a large Easter Island Tiki Head west of Seligman, AZ on 66 I do not know. 

Was it commissioned by the owner of the now defunct Kozy Corner?  Did it arrive on a flatbed truck?  We’ll never know.

We’re spending the evening in Seligman, Arizona, where nobody knows where I can find a wireless connection.  If this post is late, it’s because I was unable to post until Monday morning.  If it’s on time, great.

A few thoughts on Arizona: Much of 66, like New Mexico, is interstate driving because the final, paved alignment was covered by the interstate.  What remains of older 66  is mostly dirt from earlier alignments – but those dirt passages are fun and many times passable (though many times, not.)

Like New Mexico, small towns like Winslow and Ash Fork all have remnants of the original highway – TONS of old motels and diners, most of them closed or converted to apartments, and many with their old signage advertising such things as “clean rooms.”

One stretch, through a conifer forest, was so relaxing I wanted to pull over for the evening.  Nice.