MIDPOINT AND BEYOND

Shamrock, Texas, surely has has more murals per population than any other city on Route 66, including Pontiac, Illinois.  Everywhere you turn, on motels, cafes, garages, even a dumpster, there’s a mural. 

Mural by Tye Thompson

  Most of them were painted by Tye Thompson, a talented visual artist who also sings and strums his guitar at Big Vern’s Steakhouse from time to time. We met him during dinner in Shamrock Monday night (June 3), and he was quite a talker.

  Between Shamrock and Adrian, Texas, Route 66 again meanders back and forth across and under I-44. Part of the original road is inaccessible because it has turned back to dirt. That, plus some repaving, kept us off the Mother Road for several miles, but we took solace in knowing the old roadbed was being maintained.

  We arrived at the Route 66 midpoint in Adrian, about 30 miles west of Amarillo, around noon on Tuesday. From there, it is 1139 miles east to Chicago, 1139 miles west on to Pacific Ocean in California. The Route 66 Cafe wasn’t serving food other than pies already baked, and restrooms were closed because its well quit operating. “Life is short, eat dessert first,” is Lucy & Ethyl’s  philosophy, so I had chocolate pie and Annette had pecan. Then we went on to Russel’s Truck Stop for lunch.

Majestic wind turbines wave
 at passing motorists.

Lucy & Ehtyl at Route 66 midpoint.

Our journey across the Texas panhandle took us through several wind turbine farms, which offered a modern contrast to the old windmills we saw in almost every field. The tall, white turbines have a certain elegance about them that reminded me of cranes standing on one leg, or majorettes twirling their batons. The ranches we passed covered vast expanses of land dotted with cattle. We could see mesas in the distance. It was beautiful country.

Even though Adrian was our goal, we went into New Mexico becauses it was so close. We’ll cover New Mexico to California next year. We turned around and headed east, stopping to visit the famous Cadillac Ranch before getting a motel in Amarillo. 

Lucy in her new Caddy

     Built in 1974 by local millionaire/philanthropist Stanley Marsh III, Cadillac Ranch is easily one of Texas's most recognizable attractions. Eleven rusted, gutted-out Cadillacs are lined up and planted hood-first in the dirt. Visitors are encouraged to bring spray paint and let loose on this monument. We sprayed our names on a couple of the cars, which are so covered with layers of paint they don't resemble their original selves. 
On our way to Palo Duro Canyon Wednesday morning, more wind turbines and wildflowers waved at us from both sides of the road as we wound our way along Canyon Road. We spent several hours in the canyon, the second largest canyon in the USA, “the grand canyon of Texas.”

    It was about a 10-mile loop down and back up again. Annette had to close her eyes several times going down, because the canyon was on her side. It scared her silly. The canyon was beautiful, but I enjoyed even more the barn swallows nesting under the porch rafters back at the welcome center.

Barn swallows at Palo Duro

Back in Amarillo, we took in the American Quarter Horse Hall of Fame and Museum,  then retraced some of the route that we came into Amarillo on, so we could go through the historic district. I bought a small teapot from Canada that had a foal on the lid and a horse-shaped handle.

We left Amarillo about 4 p.m., figuring we’d drive about an hour and find a motel. However, there were none to speak of between Amarillo and Shamrock, so we wound up in that mural town again.

Today, I woke up with several birthday wishes awaiting me via Facebook Messenger and texts. A couple of more came in, along with a phone call this afternoon. It was nice to be thought of on my 39th birthday!

Lucy found her a cowboy!

Other than turning a year older, today wasn’t a very exciting day on our journey. We had intended to take the interstates to Tulsa for speed, and had hoped to make it to Oklahoma City for the night. We took Route 66 out of Amarillo to avoid the road work on the interstate, and stopped just across the state line in Texola, Oklahoma, at a tiny cafe cum souvenir shop. I needed a Texas Route 66 magnet and a hat for my oldest grandson, Gabriel. We bought a few more things, then got back on the interstate and got off again at Elk City. We made another souvenir run on the Route 66 museum, the same one we stopped at headed west. Then we got back on the interstate. We made good time, only getting confused once when I-40 led to I-35 and then I-44. Our GPS apps seem to confuse the access roads with the interstates, which in turn confused the hell out of us. 

     We made it through Oklahoma City around 1 p.m., so went on to Tulsa, taking the southern route around the city. We checked into a motel at 3 p.m., had dinner about 4:30, stopped by Drysdales western store, then came back to our room. The road has begun to take its toll on us, so this will be an early night.

Rusted trucks go to Route 66 to die along the roadside.

Motel breakfasts in Texas often feature waffles
 shaped like the state.