Mother Road Ruins

Many will say that the America we once knew has come and gone. However, for a rejuvenating slice of Americana, one can still drive over 80% of the Mother Road, also known as Route 66 or “Main Street of America”.

It spans 2,278 miles from Chicago to Santa Monica, crossing through eight states and numerous small towns that boomed during its heyday of the 1920’s into the 1960’s.

Once the main artery through the nation, old America is still visible all along this route. It comes in two forms; Americana restored and Americana ruins. This post will focus on the ruins in six of the states that the route passes through. It is in these ruins that one can find not only the charm and greatness of what was, but also the ambition that drove an era. Remains of small towns, filling stations, resorts, motels and roadside attractions litter the route.

Missouri

I got onto Route 66 at its junction with Highway 50 just south of St. Louis and turned southwest. This portion of the route intertwines with Interstate 44 as it stretches for Springfield and Joplin. My first planned exploration was near a place called Newburg, but as anyone who has driven the road can tell you, there will be plenty of unexpected stops. My first stop then was Bourbon, a picturesque half ghost nestled in the woods. The old wooden Bourbon Lodge, with peeling green trim, still stands, though not as sturdy and grand as it once did.

Not long after, a second unexpected stop had me walking around in a part of Cuba at an old 1950’s era filling station next to the famous “Wagon Wheel Motel”.

It was sometime after passing the second largest rocking chair in the world at Fanning, that I neared my first planned stop. Not far from the old diminished townsite of Newburg, on a crumbling dead-end section of the road sits “John’s Modern Cabins.” Once a bustling resort with a cluster of cabins, I was surprised and somewhat disappointed to find only one cabin still standing close to the rusted out but once flashy sign that towers overhead. I had recently seen a photograph showing several cabins, but things can change dramatically in a short amount of time.

The last standing cabin at “John’s Modern Cabins.”

Although the cabin looks like a 1800’s relic, it actually wasn’t built until 1931 as a part of “Bessie’s Place,” consisting of six cabins and a dance hall. It became a popular lodging place during the depression and a murder took place there in 1935. The place was sold to John and Lillian Dausch in 1951. John built more cabins, a laundry room and a beer and snack bar. He renamed it “John’s Modern Cabins. The business did well until 1965 when the new highway bypassed it, leaving no easy access to it. John was forced to close it down. Since then it has been unmaintained and crumbling within a canopy of trees and overgrowth.

I followed the route to Spencer. Here, the old road is still made up of the original sectional concrete. After crossing the old scenic Johnson Creek Truss Bridge, I came across the partially restored D.I. Morris Garage and Station ( a Phillips 66 station) built in 1936. Also known as Spencer Station, it was a vital stopping point for the early day cross country motorists. Its story is similar to most iconic places along the route; the new highway 44 bypassed it, making it irrelevant and abandoned. However, it remains a charming piece of nostalgia, the stone structure adorned with vintage gasoline pumps and an original orange and black Phillips 66 sign.

Spencer Station

Before I depart the Show Me State I must mention my stay in Carthage, also known as the crossroads of America. Carthage is no ghost town or forgotten relic, but rather a bustling little town with a grand county courthouse near Joplin.  I stayed in the famous Boots Court Motel, built in 1939. It is one of the oldest operating motels on Route 66. Built in the Streamline Moderne style, a room comes complete with an attached carport. Inside is an old-fashioned alarm clock (with the bells on top) and a vintage 1930’s era radio. A very pleasant stay before trudging off to further stretches of road.

The Boots Court Motel

Kansas

Sticking to the route, the road passes through some eleven miles of a corner of Kansas before entering Oklahoma. Even this snippet of Mother Road has its sights. Galena’s old stone facades and service stations serve as a testament to the working towns along the way. I stopped for some photos then drove on to Baxter Springs, another old town which saw battle during the Civil War.

I said I would not focus on restored Americana in this post, but this is the exception. I pulled up to the old Philips 66 filling station which is now a Route 66 visitor center. It is a cottage style affair with an attached garage and two old pumps out front. As I got out of my car I found an older gentleman stooped over looking at my rear license plate. “Atom-bomb country eh?” he mumbled.

“I guess that’s one way to put it,” I responded.

“Come on inside. I have some things for you.”

This is how I met “Crazylegs,” one of the faithful stewards of the road.

Baxter Springs

He gave me a tour of the old station and handed me several pamphlets about various places along the route, particularly Oklahoma. But Crazylegs was no homebody. He was a regular traveler of the old road from Illinois clear to the Pacific, and he knew Angel Delgado and other stewards near and far. If I had even tried to scratch the surface of places he suggested I stop and visit, I would have been on the road still.

I spent a good forty minutes talking with this old fellow, and though he was long winded, he was never boring. When he finished telling me of the multitude of places I must stop at, he then added, “and tell them Crazylegs sent you!” He told me he was expecting some 60 bikers at any moment, so I said I should be on my way and make room for them. With that I barreled into Oklahoma, overwhelmed with information, but happy to have had met Crazylegs.

Oklahoma

Not far into the Sooner State I came across the hollowed-out remnants of the Avon Motel near Afton (see cover photo.) Built in 1936, only three of the original seven cabins remain. Without doors or windows, the three dilapidated stucco structures pose as an eerie site along the once crowded route. Afton has several likewise relics in competition, such as long abandoned hotels, cafés and filling stations.

Moving along to Catoosa I had to make a stop. One cannot simply drive Route 66 through Oklahoma without stopping at the Blue Whale. That would be some kind of sac-religious act and an insult to the very name of travel. So, I stopped.  Just across the driveway is the splintering remains of an ark. Like the whale, the ark was built as an attraction for kids, but it closed down in 1988 and has been in disrepair since. Also closed, across the road is the “Arrowood Trading Post,” both noteworthy and photo worthy.

I spent the night in Stroud before setting out for points beyond. The next morning, in Chandler, I found the once elegant St. Cloud Hotel, now vacant and forsaken like so many other old buildings in town. Completed in 1903, it was placed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1984.

Later on, as I was cruising along, eagerly anticipating the sights of Arcadia, I nearly drove right by one of my sought-after treasures! I hit the brakes, pulled off into the grass, backed up and got out. Before me were the fabled ruins of the Rock Gas Station. Though roofless, doorless, and windowless, its stone walls will probably stand another hundred years. Originally a Conoco Station in the 1920’s, it became the Rock Gas Station in the Route 66 glory days. Besides two gas pumps the business also sold candy, kerosene and cold soda. Upon entering the building, I noticed a large white sign in the fireplace. On it was written a quote from jack Kerouac:

“Here down on dark earth

Before we all go to heaven

VISIONS OF AMERICA

All that hitchhikin

All that railroadin

All that comin back

to America”

I thought this was very fitting, not only because I am a Kerouac fan, but also because it seemed to add to the enigmatic feel of the place.

The Rock Gas Station

When I arrived in town, I was taken in by the enchanting ruins about. I drove around a bit before finally stopping and touring The Round Barn. That’s right, someone built a round barn in the late 1800’s. It was designed this way to counter the high winds. I don’t understand why this idea didn’t initiate an entire country of round barns, or at least in high wind prone places, like 70% of the country.

Anyway,  the bottom of the barn is a gift shop now and upstairs is largely empty, where I flirted with a chubby cutie with green eyes. I have found now that I am older that flirting has become nothing more than making the girl smile or giggle. Then I walk away. It’s over.

The only time I avoided Route 66 was through cities. Oklahoma City was no exception. I took an interstate around it and got back on the Mother Road at El Reno, where I would spend the night.

Kobel’s Place Gas Station

The next day, in a tiny community called Foss, I was searching for an old filling station that had once served the route, but it was nowhere in sight. Then, at a corner with a country road I saw what looked like the remains of a driveway meandering into a large clump of trees and brush. I parked and fought my way into the mess, getting thorns and stickers in my shoes and down my back. There it was! This once beacon of the open road, now forgotten and desolate in the dark overgrowth. It was called Kobel’s Place Gas Station, which also served as a café and bus station. As was the fate of many places alike, it was bypassed by the new Hwy 40. It has now been deserted for many decades and has very little, if any, of its past allure.

Further down the road I went looking for a two-story brick schoolhouse that I had seen a photo of. Built in the 1930’s, it was reported to be the only structure left standing in what had once been the sparce township of Hext. The report is now outdated. There are now no standing buildings in Hext. I did, however, find the remains of the school. When it collapsed or was destroyed I know not. But several chunks of walls still protrude from the rubble as well as the main entrance. Other than that Hext is no more. Where some old towns have a few die-hard souls hanging on, others, like Hext, are complete ghosts.

Just before crossing into Texas, I toured the forgotten streets of Texola, another true ghost. Littered with deserted buildings. It almost appears as if it were meant to be a ghost. The caving in remains of a filling station, an old jail and the Texola Bar are just a few of the remains. It was initially a cotton processing town founded in 1901. The early years of Route 66 brought some growth and prosperity for a short while. But the great depression and the dust bowl were the death knell for the gradual desertion of this place.

Texas

Everything is bigger in Texas they say. The Conoco gas station in Shamrock is a good example. The decor-style monstrosity is complete with two towers with green lighting on top and the famous U-Drop Inn. There is a lot of history here, but since the place is completely restored, I’ll save it in the event that I do a follow up post on restored Americana. OR you can find it in a post I did a few years ago at https://outerrealmz.com/3-route-66-gems-you-cant-miss/

The Leaning Tower of Texas

I cruised the old road much of the way through the panhandle, studying old relics in Mclean and Alanreed, half ghosts with a smattering of the old Route 66 staples. I stopped at Groom to photograph The Leaning Tower of Texas, a water tower that has been ever so slowly tipping over for decades and serves as Groom’s chief decoration.

Continued on past Cadillac Ranch with only a single glance in that direction. This single row of cars in a field just has no comparison to The Car Forest in Nevada. Really, if you want to see a more creative planting of cars, go to Goldfield Nevada!

Late in the afternoon I arrived at Adrian, also known as Midpoint. It is exactly 1139 miles from each end of the Mother Road. The lone famous café there was closed on my arrival, but I was able to get a room in the old ramshackle motel. Shortly after checking in the power went out. I walked over to the office to find out if it was everywhere or just me. Turns out it was the whole town that was blacked out, all seven or eight of us. As it was the waning hours of the day I opened the door for enough light to scribble in my notebook and sip a beer. This allowed all 567,843 flies to get in. They were everywhere as the day faded into a surreal swirl of purple silence. Finally, it was too dark to write as the warm dusk enveloped the room. For some reason the flies had gotten bored and went back outside, probably because I was in a clean room with no food. This was a good thing because then the power came back on, and I shut the door before they could return.

The next day I ventured to the western edge of the panhandle to a much-anticipated location. Glenrio may very well be the mother of all Mother Road Ghost Towns. It is not as long a ghost as many of the old towns. Glenrio thrived from the 20’s clear through until 1975, when at last it was bypassed. With well over a dozen deserted buildings it is worth a lengthy stay. Jutting awkwardly from the high weeds and brush most of these former businesses are accessible. Some of them were constructed with a modern art theme popular in the 1940’s. They include The Post Office, Little Juarez Diner, the State Line Bar, and of course the ever-expansive Glenrio Gas Station, café  and Motel.

Once again, photos I saw were a stark contradiction to the reality of here and now. The doors, windows and roof I saw in place in a photo of the Glenrio Gas Station, Café, and Motel were long gone and I roamed freely through the walls of the structure.  Yet it was still easy to see the charm the place once carried and the entertainment it served for thousands of travelers for half a century.

Glenrio

New Mexico

From Glenrio the route turned into a dirt road and a dust cloud followed me to the next stop, Endee. It was only a five-mile stretch, but at some point I crossed into New Mexico and all things enchanted. Endee was actually a cowpuncher town in the late 1800’s. One story says trenches were dug for gunfighters not fast enough. But Endee lived on past its wild west formative years and survived long enough to serve Route 66. Midst the farms and cabins was a motor court and an outhouse with a sign boasting “Modern Restrooms,” which is still visible. This is also one of those areas where there seems to be an unusual littering of old cars about, dating from the 50’s and early 60’s. You’ll find them deep in the overgrowth, their abandonment a mystery. It was good to be in New Mexico. I always love time in The Enchanted State.

If Glenrio was indeed the mother of ghost towns on the Mother Road, then Newkirk proved to be a stern competitor. Just off Hwy 40, Newkirk sits forlorn along a cracked and weed strewn section of the Mother Road. In its prime the small town consisted of four gas stations, two lunchrooms, a trading post, a tavern, and even a church. Most of these buildings still stand in various forms of deterioration. The town died a slow death and Wilkerson’s Gas Station did not close until 1989. Perhaps its location close to highway 40 enabled it to survive longer than many of its contemporaries.

After some ten days on the road, I began to get antsy. At this point, on most road trips, I get tired and bored and want to go home. I accelerated my journey west, though I did stop at Santa Rosa to see for myself just how blue the Blue Hole really was. It was very blue! From there I blasted past Albuquerque and towards the western edge of the state. But I could not simply bolt for home. At least not yet. There were some ghosts of a different kind I needed to find in Arizona.

Arizona

Part of Fort Courage

Barreling into the Grand Canyon State I made an early morning pause at the picturesque Lupton before continuing on to Houck. Houck, although including a long-abandoned gas station and trading post, is not like other ghost towns on the route. The main attraction here is Fort Courage. However, this old looking fort was not built until the 1960’s as a replica to the fort in the TV comedy, “F Troop.” This “fake fort” once boasted a popular pancake house. But even Fort Courage fell victim to the Route 66 curse, along with the rest of Houck.

Two Guns was another town that was known as unconventional. Despite being known for roadside entertainment, its origins are much darker. It is the site of the Apache Death Cave. Here, tribal warfare between the Navajo and Apache took an ugly turn. The Apaches had raided a nearby Navajo encampment in 1878, killing almost everyone. The vengeful Navajo found the Apaches in a cave complex beneath where the town was later built. They stacked brush and set fire to the entrances, burning to death or suffocating the 42 Apaches within.

Forty-Seven years later Harry E. Miller, aka Chief Crazy Thunder or Two Guns, capitalized on the past tragedy. He built a restaurant and gift shop, which sold all kinds of novelties and artifacts, including Apache skulls he had found in the cave. He also opened a zoo, complete with mountain Lions, cougars, Gila monsters, exotic birds, and even a Lynx. He would also give tours of the cave itself. Other settlers moved in and opened a store and a filling station.

Their timing was perfect, as Route 66 was commissioned just after, creating an endless supply of curious  visitors. Through the decades a motel, KOA campground, a tavern and a newer gas station were added to the site. Miller died in 1952, but others kept the town alive a while longer. The completion of the interstate did not kill off this town quickly, as it was visible from the new road. However, it did start to get less attention. In 1971 the gas station burned down and soon the rest of Two Guns was abandoned.

This was a fun site to walk. Across the top of the deserted zoo building the bold letters spelling “MOUNTAIN LIONS” is still clear. Walking through the archway and down the crumbling stairs I found stone, wood and wire cages, still somewhat intact. Beyond the back of the zoo and down a hill is the old bridge which crosses Canyon Diablo and on to more stone ruins of the town. The cave itself runs beneath the townsite and opens up down in the canyon, which I did not find.

Two Guns

The next day I drove one of my favorite stretches of the Mother Road, the isolated stretch between Seligman and Kingman. At Kingman I left the old route that I had been tracing since St Louis and took the interstate north for Nevada.

Summary

I would like to emphasize that the ruins I have mentioned in this post make up only a small portion of the multitude along the route. To even touch on all of them would lead to more of a book than a blog post. Being human means being biased, and that means I have written about my favorite places visited. Besides ruins there are endless charming towns never abandoned, restorations of all kinds, a few cities, and all kinds of attractions not far from the route. There are geological wonders as well, including canyons, mountains, waterways, a petrified forest and a meteor crater.

One has to drive the route for themselves to even begin to take in the expanse of attractions. I have left out Illinois because I have not driven the Route there, and California, which I have driven, but not recently. It is best to travel the route in the spring or early Autumn, as the southern states are too hot in the summer and the northern states too cold in the winter.

There are multiple sites to get information about this most incredible road trip. Among them is https://www.route66roadtrip.com/index.htm

Route 66 is one of the best, if not the very best, road trip in the country. In recent decades it has become increasingly popular. Thousands of foreign tourists, as well as Americans, drive the route each year. Yet, you’ll find little traffic. You will be strangely isolated and often the lone visitor at an attraction. This, in my opinion, adds to the beauty of it.

There is still plenty of America to be found, ruins, restorations, and otherwise, on the one and only Mother Road.