Route 66 Westbound - Day Three: St. Robert, MO to Claremore OK

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Turtles, it appears, are my calling.

In the first 47.5 years of my life, I can honestly say I have touched nary a turtle. Not that I haven't been given chances, you understand. Like any kid, I was presented with plenty of opportunities to touch other kids' pet turtles growing up, but for some reason it never quite happened. Maybe I was afraid of them. Maybe I was afraid that I'd Gronk them into the astroturf spreading little turtle-bits all over. Who knows? The point is that AGAIN today I am able to say that I, Geoff Small, am a Turtle Saver. This little guy had a cracked shell up by his head and he wasn't coming out for love or money. I was a good mile past him when the Catholic guilt I appear to be inheriting from my wife kicked in and I banged a U-ey to go save his little ass.

Geoff Small - Turtle Whisperer.

So today was 320 miles from Saint Robert in Missouri to the lovely little hamlet of Claremore in Oklahoma, where 50-car freight trains pass within 30 feet of my hotel room, horns a-blazin', about every 45 minutes or so. Sleep, it appears, is for the weak. At least I was smart enough today to venture into the Genetic Bouillabaisse that is a mid-western WalMart and purchase a pillow that will travel with me for the rest of this trip. It's the little things.

Today's route started out in south-eastern Missouri, which if you woke up from a coma while in the car would look and awful lot like driving through Anywhere, New Hampshire. Trees, asphalt, trees, asphalt. It was a far cry from the wide-open Big Skyness of Illinois, and took both of us a little by surprise. Also landing in the surprise category was the incredibly bad job that Missouri does of posting the route markers for Historic 66 in places where they can be of some use. Personally, I think it's a reprisal plot by a state that wants desperately to be Southern to frustrate us Yankees. After all, why put the route marker at the intersection of a 4-way stop (with roads that have the super-entertaining propensity to be called "M"or "FF") when putting the sign a mile up the correct road behind a tree is far more interesting? Our sojourn in the "Show Me" state was capped off with lunch, where Mrs. Abbott and Costello found new and interesting ways of fucking up what should have been a very easy "lunch rush". The patrons only had the 2 waitresses outnumbered 3 to 1, after all. In retrospect, we should have left before the food arrived. Just drop a 20 and run for the border.

Other things I learned on the road today:


• There's a 1947 Ford for sale at a roadside attraction Sinclair Oil Station in Bois D'arc, Missouri. It's $9k, runs and drives and only needs a little TLC to get back to fighting weight. Honey...I may be another week getting home.
• Kansas does a wonderful job of maintaining their section of the old route. Some narrow-minded folk might say that's because they only have a 15-mile stretch in their extreme southeastern corner to look after. Me, I know it's 'cause they just care more!
• There's a darling little old lady in Commerce, Oklahoma who owns a Route 66-themed cafe about the size of a broom closet inside of an old filling station. Her claim to fame is that she sells the "only Route 66 cookies to be found anywhere" for $1 a piece. They come in sugar and chocolate chip varieties. I never learned the proprietor's name, but she's an absolute sweetheart. Don't eat the cookie, though. She can't bake worth a damn.
• After driving a MINI (read as "grown up go-cart") for the last several months, maneuvering the marvel of American Engineering that is the Ford Mustang through the twists and turns of the south-Missouri backwoods is roughly the equivalent of trying to slalom the Titanic. It handles like a pregnant cow, and has fewer balls.
• With the top down and the speedo set right on about 65 mph, the Nadja-lookalike Beanie (that Eileen snuck in my bag and that has been our honorary co-pilot since leaving Springfield) looks like she's wagging her tail. :



Tomorrow, we run for Texas - as you do - whereupon I will officially be in my dear friend Jacy's beloved South and we will turn our sights to the desert. Footnote: sitting in my hotel room in Claremore, I'm reminded of a comedic routine I heard a number of years back where the comedian was making fun of the state for it's tagline "Oklahoma is OK!". He makes a good point. I mean honestly, how fucking hard did you have to work to come up with that hackneyed slogan? As that comedian said, it makes you wonder what came in second place.

"Oklahoma, Oklahoma, there I said it twice".

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