Before I get to discussing my adventure of today I want to say thank you to the Early Ford Club in Upland as well as the Early Ford Store of San Dimas.
Thank you Early Ford Club for adopting a goofy 17 year old kid who likes old cars. Because of you allowing me to be the “unofficial” mascot of the club, this adventure snowballed into existence. From Mr. Blickenstaff pointing me to AXC and Mr. Parker(My adopted grandfather) pushing me through the front door of the Ford Store, you have all stacked up a deck in my favor. Thank you for the giving me the Eagle Scout book and signing it and the well wishes for my college journey.For those of you who might be interested in joining with this fine group of people they meet the second Thursday of every month at the Carrows on Mountain Avenue in Upland. The meeting doesn’t start until around seven o’clock but most people show up around five to have dinner and talk.
Thank you members of the Ford Store: Bill, Ted, Nicole , Craig,and Michael for letting me hang around as well as help out. You made every day a great day to go to work. You definitely got your use out of me, (that was a lot of inventory from Vintage Ford to unload). I appreciate the opportunity that you gave me to learn a few things, meet some interesting people, as well as see a bunch of neat old Fords. Now at least I can almost pretend to know my way around a parts shop when I get to Mcpherson. Did I mention how grateful I was for letting me drive the 33 in circles around the parking lot? That made my day.
Finally I am going to get to the star of my great migration eastward. After a rushed last-minute packing and goodbye to the neighbors this morning, my mother and I finally left on our adventure. Somehow I managed to be the one driving. We stayed on Route 66/Foothill from Glendora to the 210 in La Verne and followed that until we got off of Interstate 15 around Victorville. We took the “National Old Trails Highway”, which is 66, and quickly happened upon an abandoned gas station in which we goofed around for a bit taking pictures.
Within fifteen minutes of leaving the gas station we had an unexpected surprise of running into a place called Bottle Ranch. As the name implies it is a plot of land with a bunch of bottles, however, this was extremely interesting because they were all sculptures and artwork. As my mother put it this was, ” a lifetime of desert artifact collecting”. There were bottles, typewriters, hub caps, telephones, and many other pieces of rusty metal. You had to see this place with your own eyes, but hopefully a few pictures will give you an idea.
On our way to Barstow we found a little farm called , ” The Two 66 Sixes Co.” We pulled over to the side of the road for two reasons. Aside from mum taking pictures there was green grass in the middle of the dry desert as well as cows. We both decided that we would meander through this trip and appreciate whatever showed up on the road in front of us.
There we two things in Barstow that were pretty neat to look at. The big one is the 66 Museum that is part of the train museum and current station. In there was the usual collection of 66 memorabilia, aside from a very nice 1917 Model T, and the owners were incredibly nice. Most everyone has been very friendly so far…well most. The next big thing, which won’t get most of your attention was someone had a 1949 Plymouth,one of my favorites, parked in an abandoned business. I immediately stopped the truck and walked over and took one picture. I would have liked to have taken more, but the female neighbors began yelling at me to go away and in the window of the business another woman appeared and began pounding at the window. They obviously were not the usual friendly car folk. On a side note I saw many a Plymouth 3 1949s, two 1955’s, and two 1960s.
After driving around for awhile, which I was the one somehow still at the wheel, we eventually found ourselves hungry and at the Bagdad Cafe in Newberry Springs. It was a pretty good cafe, and very foreign. I mean that literally, apparently , according to the owner, only 5% of their clientele are American, and they were rather surprised to see us. The only other Americans in the joint were some extremely friendly bikers from New Jersey, also riding Route 66. I can best describe them as the Wild Hogs, if you have seen that movie you’ll know what I mean.
We got lost momentarily in Needles, though it ended up in our favor. I should mention that this is going to be the last time we listen to that Siri girl. After finding our way we ended up in the Historic District. In the Historic District there was an old Route 66 Motel, a beautiful Art Deco building , Circa 1930, as well as two 55 and 49 Plymouths. Boy what a day this has been. Our final destination for the day was Kingman though where we will start off tomorrow by checking out their Historic District as well.
You will hear, or read, from me tomorrow.
Good Night and Good Luck