Eschewing flying when magazine assignments out West beckoned, I asked my husband to share driving duties instead and headed out to savor the road of my dreams: Route 66.  
    Commissioned in 1926, U.S. Highway 66 was the first national highway from Chicago to Los Angeles. “The Mother Road” in John Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath was packed with travelers by the 1950s. It inspired both a hit song and popular 1960s TV series. In the 1970s, however, Route 66 was largely replaced by interstates. It was decommissioned in 1985.
    But many of us loved the old road. State, national and international “save 66” groups sprang up, and in 1999 Congress passed a 66 preservation bill. About 85 percent of the highway remains drivable today.
    In many ways, Route 66 proved on our trip to be what I imagined: Some areas, bolstered by state Historic 66 associations and the National Historic Route 66 Federation, are thriving via 66’s mystique. Other stretches pass deteriorating communities largely abandoned.
    Arizona boasts 66’s longest uninterrupted driving stretch, variously measured at between 150 and 200 miles, complete with “Burma Shave” signs courtesy of the Historic Route 66 Association of Arizona. Freight trains run near much of the route, competing with fabulous scenery for your attention.
    If you like big cities, cookie-cutter hotels and chain restaurants, 66 is not for you. If, on the other hand, you love small towns, friendly people, and the pleasure of driving 55 mph with little traffic and scenic vistas, come along.
    Here’s a sampling of what you can expect when you “get your kicks on Route 66.”

Shamrock, Texas: The gorgeous, iconic U Drop Inn, a 1936 art deco-style service station/restaurant complex, has been restored via a $1.7 million federal grant. Today it’s home to Chamber of Commerce and tourism offices.

Clinton, Okla.: Oklahoma hosts the biggest portion of Route 66 (400 total miles). See the neon-encrusted Oklahoma Route 66 Museum, operated by the Oklahoma Historical Society and filled with retro exhibits, vintage cars, a 1950s diner and indoor drive-in theater showing an excellent 66 documentary. 

Tucumcari, N.M.: Flickering neon along Tucumcari’s six miles of 66 makes it look like a mini-Las Vegas at night. Motel Safari was memorable: The 1959 motel’s $55 rooms have been refurbished with luxurious pillow-top mattresses and flat-screen televisions. More than two dozen murals dot the town, including the Safari’s “Tucumcari Tonight!” tour bus. Many curio shops, motels and restaurants that thrived in the 1940s-50s remain.

Gallup, N.M.: Blazing neon announces El Rancho Hotel (1937), where stars like Humphrey Bogart and Errol Flynn stayed while filming in the area. A rustic two-story lobby features a Southwest style and walls lined with movie star photographs. 

Holbrook, Ariz.: Partial inspiration for the Cozy Cone Motel in the Pixar movie Cars is here: the Wigwam Motel (1950). Restored concrete/steel teepees lure you to “Sleep in a teepee tonight!” while vintage cars, including a Hudson Hornet with a “Doc” license plate, add to the ambience.  A young girl in the lobby declared, “We’re famous!”

Williams, Ariz.: Try the Red Garter B&B Inn, a restored 1897 saloon/former bordello across the street from the Grand Canyon Railway, a tourist train ferrying visitors to the canyon. Williams’ entire downtown is on the National Register of Historic Places. Neon and 66 pride abound here.

Seligman, Ariz.: Seligman is a whimsical, colorful town packed with unusual shops such as Return to the 50s, a gas station turned gift store, and Historic Seligman Sundries, a 1904 former trading post with original soda fountain and unique souvenirs. The famous Snow Cap features “cheeseburgers with cheese.”  

Oatman, Ariz.:  We drove 28 miles from Kingman to Oatman, high in the Black Mountains. Civilization fades quickly on this isolated 66 stretch, and the final eight miles include frightening hairpin switchbacks and drop-offs with no guardrails. (We learned later that this part of 66 is a pre-1952 ­alignment; 66 was changed to make an easier route south of the mountain passes in 1952.)

Relieved to be alive, we arrived in an authentic gold mining town complete with wood-planked sidewalks. Wild burros (descendants of mine work animals) roam freely, hustle for treats and stop traffic. About a hundred people still live here; the two-story adobe Oatman Hotel (1902) is famous as the honeymoon hideaway of Clark Gable and Carole Lombard.

Audrey Hingley (see AudreyTHingley.com) is a Richmond-based freelance writer who writes frequently for Boomer.