(Title from Route 66, a classic song with many covers)
The Mojave Desert in California was considered the toughest stretch of Route 66, and the last to to be paved. We continue our explorations from Amboy to Los Angeles.
Leaving Amboy and Roy’s Cafe behind, Route 66 follows the trainline westwards. It is a xeric landscape of scrub and low hills and little else. The very names reveal the harshness of the place, such as Siberia, where today only the broken down walls of an old cafe remain.
At Ludlow, the I-40 meets the 66 and there are modern gas stations and one old cafe, amidst other derelict motels and gas stations. From here the old road runs in tandem with the freeway, a poor relation with cracked tarmac and overgrown edges. Rough houses with trash littered yards appear at intervals and at Newperry Springs, the Bagdad Cafe – once called the Sidewinder but renamed after the eponymous 1988 cult movie in which it appeared.
Outside there is a decaying Airstream, inside an old two room cafe whose walls are invisible beneath business cards, souvenir dollar bills and scribbled-on banners. We were greeted with an unexpected bonjour – apparently 75% of their customers are French.
Both cafe and owners are a little worn round the edges but the milk shakes were good and the burgers OK. The French girls at the next door table had problems explaining sunny side up and had to break into mime.
The next stretch of Route 66 is fairly unspectacular until it comes to an abrupt halt at a Marine base on the edge of Barstow, necessitating some contortions via the I-40 to get into town.
The town has some neat Route 66 posts scattered along Main Street, from where we ducked down to see the Route 66 Mother Road Museum at the old 1910 Harvey House. This was another big railway building, along the lines of the Kelso Depot, though built by the opposition. It was called the Casa del Desierto and its waitresses were known as Harvey Girls. They lived on site with strict rules about no men in bedrooms, no flirting with customers and no marriage whilst under contract.
There is also a Western America Railroad Museum within the building and a scattered assortment of engines parked on the rails outside. However, we stuck to our Route 66 theme and wandered amongst an eclectic mix of old cars and motorbikes, as well as displays on the history of the road.
The next section to Victorville is much as it once was, beloved now by motorbike riders and enthusiasts who come to sniff out the remnants of the road. On the edge of town now only elevated parking spots remain in the desert where there was once a drive-in movie.
Further along, there is an old store, then the weird Elmer Long’s bottle forest with a huge collection of bottle trees: feel free to wander. A sorry 1940’s clapboard building was once Potapov’s Auto Court, an early motel prototype, then comes the Iron Hog Saloon where those bikers stop.
From Victorville, the route follows the I-40 for a while, sweeping up through the San Bernardino Mountains, then heads off to parallel the I-10. We took this exit as we had one final delight in store: a Wig Wam Motel.
There were once seven of these quirky little motel stops; now only three remain: one in Kentucky where their founder lived, one in Texas and our stop in Rialto, 75 km from Los Angeles.
Dating back to 1949, it was easy to find. A scattering of large creamy concrete tepees with furled backed flounces round the entrance door and gaily painted edges sat incongruously beside the road in a busy suburb. It was not really an obvious place for anyone to stop and before the modern day revival of the mother road, the tepees went through a low point, being advertised by the hour with the slogan Do it in a tepee! The old sign is still on display in the rather nice leafy grounds, along with the obligatory rusting vehicles. There is also the dinkiest ever swimming pool.
Inside they were surprisingly spacious and there was a good en suite, though the shower cubicle may have been a relic. The shower head came out at neck level but there was a thoughtfully provided inbuilt seat – I never did entirely work out the best system for washing ones hair. However the whole experience was great fun and definitely something different. Souvenirs are available at the reception and the chap in charge was extremely friendly and helpful.
Just up the road is the Mitla Cafe, another Route 66 relic, serving all the standard American diner fare as well as great breakfast burritos.
Route 66 ends at Santa Monica pier but if you tried to stay on it from the Wig Wam, it could take up to 3 hours to cover the 75 miles. You would have to be truly dedicated to follow all the modern day contortions through the dreadful traffic of L.A. I am ashamed to confess we gave up at this point and followed the Interstate back into town!
