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Day 7: April 3rd, 2009 – St. Louis to Devils Elbow, MO
Missouri has the most confusing stretch of 66 that I’ve experienced thus far. It’s bad enough that it zig-zags across the interstate every five miles, but the turns aren’t marked and generally don’t have any continuity. I entered a stretch of the Old Road just north of St. Clair and followed along for a few miles before making a turnoff that should have kept me on track… in fact, as I traversed this road, I was taken aback by its’ beauty. It rolled and curved and twisted and turned through farms and tree-lined passages all painted with early spring blooms. This, I thought aloud, is why I may never travel the super-slab again. BUT, come to find out, that aforementioned turnoff was a wrong turn. DOH! So the bright side is I got to drive that gorgeous road again, but on the other hand it was a 15 mile detour to backtrack my way back on course. On and on my day went, making a calculated turn and twisting my way across Missouri, only to find myself right back in the same place I crossed the interstate 30 miles earlier. This, my friends, is why I planned 100 miles a day. I think I clocked over 180 miles for the 115 I actually traveled. But it’s all about the ride, and I enjoyed the better part of each wrong turn.
So for the times I actually was on the right path, the Mother Road revealed her charm as expected. For one, just after I had a good laugh seeing the sign for “Cuba” (I had made so many wrong turns, it wouldn’t have surprised me to find out I was about to get wet as I headed towards that island – but as it turns out there’s a Cuba, MO), I entered the little community of Bourbon, MO. Now HERE is a town I could come to know and love – their slogan is “Make Our Bourbon Your Bourbon” and on the north edge of town is the Bourbon Family Center, proudly selling Beer, Wine and Package Liquor. Alas, I think I found my future home. (At this point I will refrain from my initial judgments on the people of this little town, but let’s just say that the few run-ins I had didn’t speak highly of making my fantasized residence a reality. So I left, and I seriously doubt I’ll stop in again.) On down the road, I passed the Wagon Wheel Motel (for those Cars aficionados, you’ll recall it from Radiator Springs) and then the supposed World’s Largest Rocking Chair. But I call bullshit, because a few years back I was on my way to the Royal Gorge in Colorado with Rod and Katie, and we passed a nice wooden rocking chair that must have stood 20’ taller than this gaudy metal structure. Well I took my obligatory photo, and pushed on to something worth mentioning: another fine establishment was just around the bend, serving all the finest beers and proudly advertising them in neon in the windows -Stag, PBR and Busch. What more could an upper-crust individual like myself hope for? Well, I suppose for one I could have hoped that they would have been open! Slightly dismayed, I pushed on to one more stop, the renowned Mule Trading Post, a must-see for Route 66 travelers, a Curio shop with everything from vintage beer signs to local art to tacky knick-knacks for the tourists. So I bought a few knick-knacks and headed to my campsite for the night.
15. Bourbon Family Center – Such Appeal! 16. The First “Cars” Landmark thus far…
17. I have my doubts… 18. Shouldn’t this place be open 24/7? 19. A Must-See, the Mule Trading Post
Day 8: April 4th, 2009 – Devil’s Elbow to Carthage, MO
It really wasn’t until this morning that the beauty of my campsite truly set in … I chose a little ma-and-pop campground last night about 15 miles off-course called the Boiling Spring Campground, mainly because it was located on the Gasconade River and it sounded pretty. The host family was charming, there wasn’t a single other camper onsite, and I had a lovely fire on the riverbank to spend my evening with. But this morning, as I opened my eyes to the sun slowly illuminating a 100’ tall rock face on the opposite bank of the river (not to mention, with the sparse population around me, the ability to rise and shine and irrigate the nearby vegetation before feeling inclined to get dressed), I found this little site ranking highly on my top campgrounds in America. I will definitely be back!
By my third day in Missouri, apparently I’ve gotten the knack of following 66 through all its difficult twists and turns. I didn’t make a wrong turn all day, and as a result ended up 50 miles further down the road than I originally planned. Fortunately, my invigorating morning left me prepared for what I found just a few short miles into the days travel… okay, so Adult Superstores aren’t an uncommon sight, but much like Paul Bunyan and his giant wiener, who ordered the 50’ bowling pin to really lure in the clientele? Best to not think too deeply on this one, eh? Over the next 100 miles there were many symbols of an era past, but my favorites have quickly become the unrestored signs barely legible after years of weather and neglect. Every one is worth stopping for, photographing, and trying to mentally reassemble the surroundings as they may have looked decades earlier. One last story and I’m signing off – I decided to stop in Carthage and get a motel for the night. I desperately needed a hot shower and it wouldn’t hurt to recharge my cameras, phone, etc overnight. I pulled in to a fueling station (that’s for you, Rachel!) to top off my tank and grab a 12-pack, and while paying I asked the cashier if she knew of a motel in the area, or even a campground or a place to park for the night. She mulled over my request for a moment, and then asked two young men standing behind me in line. They put their collective heads together for no less than a couple minutes before one of the guys said that there was a park just up the road, I could pull in there, park under the bridge so the cops wouldn’t see me, and should have no problem staying the night there. No motels? No campgrounds? None that any of the three were aware of. I thanked them very kindly, walked out to my car, and proceeded to load my purchases into the cooler. While icing down the beer, I looked across the service road from the Conoco I was standing in, and noticed a quaint brown building, quite long but one story tall and a series of cars parked alongside a multitude of doors. And what did this sign say? “Carthage Motel”. Again I found myself laughing so hard I almost wet myself – I know when I’m being taken for a ride, and these three locals were totally unaware that there was a motel next door. I couldn’t bring myself to drive the 100’ and check in, so I headed down the road to the next small town and nestled in to a motel there.
20. Best Not to Ask… 21. Mobile Home Park