When I stumbled into the lobby of the Best Western in Pasadena to begin the second day of the Route 66 Centennial Caravan, I was greeted by a whole host of fellow caravaners that were already a few steps ahead of me. In fact, most of the little dining room was packed with our people. They were smiling, talking, and appeared eager for another day of travel. I grabbed a cup of coffee and sought out one person in particular: my friend Dr. T. Lindsay Baker.
Dr. Baker was driving a 1930 Model A wagon, one that he had already driven the length of Route 66 three times prior to this journey. Unlike the other three Model A’s with us, his vehicle was unmodified. This meant a slower driving speed and the need for plenty of adjustments along the way. There’s a great piece of writing by Dr. Baker himself here about his love of Model A Fords and the authentic experience they provided. I sat down with him first thing that morning to ask how he was doing, how his car was doing, and if he needed anything. Before I even got my first question out he held up a hand. “I’m fine,” he said in his inimitable Texas drawl. He said that he had everything he needed; he knew what to expect out of his vehicle and his own abilities. He insisted that he didn’t need any special attention and that the Caravan as a whole not make any modifications to the schedule or our cadence. He would simply catch up. It was also in this conversation that he finally convinced me to call him T. Lindsay rather than Dr. Baker, which I’d been holding onto for more than a decade.
Day Two covered Pasadena to Barstow, California. The additional breathing room in the traffic lanes and between stoplights made the drive overall easier to manage, but longer distances and more stops made the schedule more challenging to maintain. We did our best as we went along, making sure to let our caravaners know that just because our leadership team had to move on to the next location on a schedule, they could linger a bit longer and catch up. Most folks got into their cars when we did, though, so we did our best to make sure we squeezed as much out of each stop as we could.
The day started with two stops in Monrovia: the shuttered Aztec Hotel (listed on the National Register!) and a wonderfully rehabilitated Flying A Service Station. When we arrived at the Aztec, the mayor of Monrovia was waiting for us, waving a little Route 66 sign and joined by several members of their local historical society. They handed out a few baseball caps and talked about the distinctive Mayan Revival architecture of the hotel. Renovations began back in 2012 but it’s been closed ever since and it’s on the market for $15 million. The service station down the street, part of the 1926-1933 alignment of 66, has been restored to a look close to its original state with a little help from a National Trust Preserve Route 66 grant.
Our group then moved on to Duarte, where we took part in a brief ceremony celebrating another National Trust support project: restoring a vintage neon sign for The Trails Restaurant, which will eventually go on display at the Route 66 Museum out in Victorville. The city itself donated the sign so that the work could commence; it’s a partnership project in many respects.
Our Caravan continued east, stopping in Claremont at the Old Schoolhouse where we were once again greeted by excited locals and a few classic car aficionados. “Do you know when Big Moo will be coming by?” one of the ladies asked, which I had to say I wasn’t sure when The Big Texan would be by. Their big cow couldn’t go down every street that our main group did, plus they had to get to Barstow by a certain time to set up for the evening’s festivities. Still, everyone was happy to share their little slice of history with us.
We were running far enough behind at this point that most of the group had to go from Claremont straight to our prearranged lunch spot in Rancho Cucamonga. Vince’s Spaghetti is a place Samantha fell in love with last time we were in the area and I was excited to return, but I had received a message that folks were waiting on us at the Richland Service Station just down the street, a stop that we were going to have to skip en masse due to time. I went ahead and drove down to give out trading cards and visit with some of the locals that had come out to greet us – and even got a photo of the wagon in front of the iconic station! Someone pointed out that I’d backed in with the gas tank on the wrong side; alas, cars of that vintage didn’t have the helpful little arrow next to the fuel gauge.
Speaking of the wagon – I reached out to its owner, Tim, and asked if the car had a name. He told me that it didn’t and that I had the honor. Since Route 66 is also known as the Will Rogers Highway, and that’s a strong tie to Oklahoma, I checked to see what Will Rogers’ favorite horses names were. I already knew the name of the horse that was used for the bronze statue at the Memorial Museum in Claremore was Soapsuds – and that didn’t quite feel right for the car. But his other favorite horse was named Bootlegger! That was perfect, and so it was bestowed.
Bootlegger celebrated its new name by breaking down on the side of Interstate 15, climbing Cajon Pass out of San Bernardino. The car had a 2005 Chevrolet LS truck engine in it, so it ran really smooth and even got decent gas mileage. The original gauges weren’t connected but I had a nice digital readout with all of the vital information, including engine temperature. As I climbed the pass, I saw the temperature climb from 205, to 225, to 240. When it hit 250, I pulled over. Several caravaners pulled over with me and I insisted that they all continue, but the official Missouri folks (Gene and Jay Ann Maddux) and the official California folks (Mike and Lisa Visket) stayed behind. Jessica Roybal, our photographer, and her partner Sal also stopped. Sal was a car guy and the group of them began diagnosing the problem. Somewhere along the pass, the radiator cap just…disappeared. It was gone. The rest of the engine was inspected and nothing appeared to be broken or ruptured. William Cook, my friend with the Edsel, was traveling with a car hauling trailer and he came back from Victorville. They loaded the car and towed me to the Museum, where Sal met us with fresh fluid and a new cap. While the rest of gang learned about Camp Cajon and toured the Calfornia Route 66 Museum, Bootlegger was returned to service. Simple fix! But you better believe I watched that temperature gauge like a hawk all the way to Chicago. Thankfully, it was never a problem again.
We were once again running a bit behind, but there was only one stop left before our final destination of the day. Bottle Tree Ranch is a quirky roadside attraction in Oro Grande, CA and a favorite of many roadies. Started in 2000 by Elmer Long, it grew to more than 200 individual “trees” of bottles and other ephemera by the time he passed away in 2019. His son, Elliot, is the current caretaker the glass forest. It’s the kind of stop that makes you marvel at the creativity of people and happy that they found a home to realize their dream.
The Big Texan Steak Challenge that night was held at the Casa del Desierto, a former Harvey House in Barstow that houses another Route 66 museum. The city is also home to a Marine Corps Logistics Base, which has a piece of original Highway 66 that runs through it! There were some soldiers on-hand for a flag ceremony and several representatives from the Miss Route 66 Pageant to welcome us, as well as a sizeable crowd of locals. For the first time on the trip, someone completed the 72 oz Steak Challenge – and in fourteen minutes! Raina Huuang is a competitive eater and many people turned out just to see her…but that timeframe is unreal. We talked about that performance for the rest of the trip.
The sun set as we settled in at our hotel for the night, another day in the books. Next up: crossing the Mojave, something that would especially put our vintage cars to the test. But we were all excited and ready for the challenge.
Rhys' Pieces 
Great memories!