Friday, 4 September 2015

Goodbye Baby, Aman

EPILOGUE

It was an amazing trip.   

Southern route Westward, Northern route Eastward

Every day of this journey unfolded in fascinating and unexpected ways. I ventured into what Americans call "the heart of America" and met plenty of salt-of-the-earth folks—some saltier than others.

From the start, I wanted to connect with the real souls of the land, not just "the haves" cruising in their SUVs. The people I met had stories as diverse and rich as the landscapes around them.

Where have all the people gone?

Would I do this trip again? Absolutely. But next time, I’d have a more focused approach.

Some places I’d skip in favour of spending more time in others. The further west I traveled, the more the land seemed to call to me, luring me off the beaten path and into the unknown.

Once a busy place, now no one drops by

I know it sounds cliché, but it wasn’t until I truly strayed from the well-worn tourist routes—sometimes so far off that I started questioning my decision-making skills—that I really felt like I was experiencing the essence of Route 66. This road made and broke the towns along its path, and you can still feel its lingering impact. Many times, I found myself in areas with no cell coverage, meaning if something went wrong… well, I’ll let your imagination run with that one.

Once the great Route 66
Even the vehicle has rusted away
A house of stone

Maybe it’s just that the vast open spaces of the West are easier to photograph than the bustling urban centers crammed with people, industry, and traffic. Or maybe it’s because those wide, empty landscapes have an almost timeless quality—where the only change over the years is that the grass has grown a little longer.


Perhaps the lawn mower is broken

         What Would I Do Differently?

          Two things.

          First: Equipment.                                                                                                                                         (a) Buy a Tilley hat. Baseball caps are a pain—I took mine off so often that I ended up with a                      sunburn on my bald spot within two days. Rookie mistake.                                                                     (b) Get a GPS unit for my DSLR. As much as I tried, keeping track of exactly where I was proved           to be a challenge. Many places I visited had no visible signs, and even maps and GPS systems              didn’t always agree. Case in point: Jericho, Arizona. It was on my map but not on my GPS. The              only way I found the remnants of the hamlet was by stumbling across a faded, weather-beaten              sign lying on the ground that read "Jericho Cemetery." That was reassuring…                             

          Second: Planning,                                                                                                                                         I’d do a bit more research on the areas I planned to visit. While I knew a lot about Route 66’s                  history, I knew far less about the small towns and hidden gems along the way. The trip was about           exploration, and I feel like I partially achieved that goal—but once I arrived in an area, I quickly           realized there was even more to discover than I had anticipated. Next time, I’d narrow my focus              and dedicate more time to fewer places.

Round Barn

    Places I Loved—and Those I Couldn’t Wait to Leave

    I’ll let you figure that out for yourself. My preferences may not be yours, so I won’t spoil the                adventure.

    Funny how sometimes it’s the little moments that stick with you the most. One such moment was in        Carthage, Missouri. I sought out the old Civil War battlefield where the first major battle of the war        took place. Standing there in the cool drizzle, surrounded by tall trees and absolute silence except for     a soft rustling of leaves, I was struck by the surreal contrast between the site’s peacefulness and its        bloody past.

How could such a lovely place have once been a killing field

    Ghost Towns That Aren’t Really Ghost Towns

    Some of Route 66’s so-called ghost towns have been revitalized into tourist attractions. While they        still have photo-worthy moments, many felt a little too "Disneyfied" for my taste—full of souvenir        shops (selling mostly made-in-China trinkets) and restaurants hyping up "Route 66 burgers" and            cheap beer. Outside, massive SUVs and Winnebagos lined the streets while families devoured nachos     drenched in processed cheese. Not quite my scene.

Garish, but the tourists seem to love it

    Dodging Crowds 

    Tourist hotspots like Horseshoe Bend and Monument Valley attract waves of selfie        enthusiasts, making it impossible to avoid crowds—unless you wait. The moment the     sun sets or the weather  turns ugly, most people scatter. That’s when the real magic        happens. In the fading light, the desert transforms: red soil turns pink, and the bushes     seem to glow.

As the sun goes down, the colours come out.

    Leaving Monument Valley wasn’t the end of breathtaking views—it was just the beginning. As I            headed north toward Moab, I kept one eye glued to my rearview mirror, and I’m glad I did. This part     of the country surrounds you with beauty in every direction, whether you capture it with a camera or     just in your mind’s eye.

    Altitude Reality Check

    Driving into the Colorado Rockies, I learned firsthand what a lack of oxygen feels like. As I climbed     higher, I noticed my engine needed more gas to maintain speed. Then I realized traffic was slowing        down, and truck engines were groaning like they were on the verge of a heart attack. That’s when it        hit me—oxygen. At over 11,000 feet, even my car was struggling to breathe. Considering that small        aircraft are not allowed to fly above 10,000 feet without oxygen, here I was at over 11,100 feet.

    And what goes up must come down. Descending at a steep 6% grade presents its own challenge.            Overuse your brakes, and you’ll reach the bottom with none left. I relied mostly on my gears, but I         passed a few less fortunate SUV drivers who had pulled over, their brakes completely fried.

    From Nebraska to Iowa

    Nebraska was as expected: flat, open, cattle, farms. No surprises there. Iowa, however, was a different     story. I had planned to drive straight through, but its lush green rolling hills and endless unpaved            country roads proved irresistible for a photographer. I found myself detouring off I-70 just to capture     the scenery. 


Iowa's green fields and dusty roads

   The Final Stretch

    Around Gary, Indiana, I stopped for my last night on the road. The next day, I crossed back into            Canada at Sarnia and drove straight home to Markham.

    The Trip by the Numbers

  • Days on the road: 15

  • Principal lodging: Motel 6

  • Best Wi-Fi: McDonald's

  • Best coffee: Also McDonald's

  • Bottles of water consumed: 60+

  • Miles/kilometers traveled: 6,275 / 10,100

  • Gallons/Litres of gas purchased: 160 / 605

  • Lowest gas prices: Michigan

  • Highest gas prices: California

  • Least photos taken: Nebraska

  • Most photos taken: New Mexico & Arizona

  • Highest altitude reached: 11,116 ft / 3,388 m, Colorado

  • Hottest temperature: 117ºF / 47.2ºC

  • Principal cameras: Nikon D610 & Fuji X100s

  • Frames shot: 8,500

  • Best photo opportunity: Missouri, Kansas, Oklahoma, New Mexico, Arizona, Iowa

Would I Do It Again?

Without a doubt. There’s simply too much to see in one go, and I’ve barely scratched the surface of what lies off the beaten path. Until next time, Route 66.


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