ON THE ROAD

Soaring fuel prices may force us to adjust grandiose travel plans this summer but with just a bit of advance planning it should still be possible to make this a summer of grand adventure on Route 66, the Lincoln Highway, and other great two lane highways. That is the subject of today's editions of trips and books.
Kingman, Arizona is less than 400 miles from Los Angeles, less than 100 miles from Las Vegas, and less than 200 miles from Phoenix. Now, if you like vintage vehicles and good times it is tough to beat the annual Route 66 Fun Run scheduled for the first weekend in May.
With some of the most spectacular scenery to be found anywhere along that legendary highway, this 180 mile, three day block party celebrating the automobile, Route 66, and the American love affair with the road trip has a little of something for everyone. A number of folks that participate, or that simply show up for the fun, have made this event a priority for a number of years.
In the first weeks of June, Amarillo in Texas will be the place to be. Deep in the Heart of Route 66 will be theme for this years international Route 66 festival and it is looking as though this will be another historic chapter for America's most famous highway.
Celebrities and fans of that highway from throughout the world will be in attendance. Music by Joe Loesch and the Road Crew from Nashville, food, friends, cars, and a good time are on the schedule.
As a bit of shameless self promotion I will be in attendance, with my dearest friend, for the debut of my new book, Ghost Towns of Route 66. I can't think of a better place for the kick off or better people to share the event with.
If time or financial constraints prohibit your attendance in Amarillo, and you live in the Midwest, Illinois is the place to be in the first weeks of June. The Route 66 Association of Illinois Route 66 Motor Tour is always a delight.
For the folks on the west end of Route 66, there are a number of events but there is only one mega event - the Stater Brothers Route 66 Rendezvous in September. This monster is without equal.
Route 66 isn't the only highway that leads to fun and adventure this year. If you happen to be cruising the Lincoln Highway this summer check out the Pony Express anniversary in beautiful Gothenburg, Nebraska in June.
Even though the Lincoln Highway, once as popular as Route 66, has slipped into the shadow of the double six it remains an excellent adventure for anyone who loves exploring the back roads and lost highways of America. The Lincoln Highway Association has an excellent calendar of events to help plan your trip on all or part of that historic road.
Excellent resources for planning your weekend getaways or vacation on Route 66 are found on the Route 66 Chamber of Commerce website. Links, photos, and a wide array of information are found on this site that serves as a clearing house for all things Route 66.
An accurate guide book is essential for any trip and Route 66 is no exception. To the best of my knowledge, the best available guide is EZ 66 by Jerry McClanahan, also a very accomplished artist.
You can order a copy for the Route 66 Federation. In addition to getting the best guide out there, you will be supporting an organization that has played a key role in the resurgent interest in Route 66, and that continues to work toward preservation and promotion.
Don't let the summer slip away. Make plans today to discover, or rediscover, what makes America special.

AND THE MORAL OF THE STORY IS ...

Antonio with his cheerful round face and thick handlebar mustache always shaded by an oversized, wide brimmed hat presented the impression he was hoping they would remake the Cisco Kid and that he could play the part of Pancho. He was a good man and was better at hanging fence than I was but everyone, including Antonio, knew I got the job of foreman because old man Bower was as prejudiced as they come.
Old man Bower was an odd duck to say the very least. With a shape that mimicked an avocado with legs he appeared almost cartoon like but there was nothing funny about his acid laced tirades, his biting comments, or the short fuse temper.
If Antonio had a fault it was his love for the bars on the weekends after payday, a passion fueled by the acceptance of the fact there was, in his mind, a zero chance of moving ahead in this world. As regular as clockwork this always led to him showing up late for work the following Monday.
Bower's accepted it as a way to keep Antonio from moving on. Antonio recognized the leniency for what it was. It was a pretty twisted relationship.
Old man Bower was one of those fellows who had seemed to make money without meaning to. His shotgun approach to projects, and absent minded ways, ensured maximum waste of time and money in everything we did. He was a fellow you worked for but could never respect.
In spite of his shortcomings Antonio was a man you could count on to get a job done. So, when work required taking a crew on the road, he was always on my short list for who to take.
Aside from hard, honest work, and a love for the bars, Antonio had two very memorable traits. He loved his chili peppers (his dad had a pepper farm over on the Rio Grande near Hatch) and he was quite creative in his excuses for reasons why he was late on the Monday after payday.
One Monday he showed up at lunch time and looked as though he had been wrapped in barbed wire and was drug behind a truck over a few miles of bad Texas road. The excuse was novel, his foot had slipped from the brake when he stopped and leaned out to pick up the paper. Then his pant leg hooked on the seat adjustment and he was drug across the street where the truck hit a tree.
Well, I endured the stories and the late days for a month or two. Then when old man Bower's told me I was in charge while he was away, and assigned our crew a huge project with a tight deadline, the time came to put an end to Antonio's long weekends. 
The first Monday there was an improvement, Antonio was a half hour late and I chewed his backside. The next time he was on time. Likewise with the third Monday after payday.
Then on the next Monday he showed up at two in the afternoon. He looked like holy Hell. His nose was broke, his eyes were swollen almost shut, and he had stitches in a few places on his face.
He told me the wildest story yet and I snapped. I ordered him into the truck, told him we were driving to his house, and if the story wasn't true, he was fired.
All the way into town he pleaded, "Senor, Jim. Really. You respect me and I wanted to be on time. I set the alarm clock. I didn't go to the bar yesterday."
"This morning the ceiling fell on me. Really. I am telling you the truth." And so it went for miles.
Antonio lived in the old part of town in a big rambling brick house that had weathered more than a century of New Mexico mountain winters. At some point it had been carved into apartments but few other changes had been made.
I pulled up in front of the towering hedge, Antonio jumped out to open the gate, and with growing anger led the way up the stairs to his apartment and into his bedroom. There in the center of his blood stained bed, was a huge chunk of horsehair plaster. Above was the bare lathe that hadn't seen the light of day in at least a half century.
I never said a word as we drove back to the job site. I never again reprimanded Antonio for tardiness and I never again questioned his long winded and creative excuses.

JUST A FEW QUICK UPDATES

Thank you for the words of encouragement in regards to the short stories about adventures from my past that have been posted in recent weeks. This is a new endeavor as I am a private fellow that doesn't talk in detail about the past very often.
I embarked on this endeavor on the advice of a friend in the marketing business who happened to know me in a previous life. His thoughts were that I had lived a colorful life and it should be shared as stories of encouragement. He was also of the opinion it would make for good reading.
The suggestion has even been made that these stories should be compiled for a book. That would take a great deal of thoughtful consideration as a number of the guilty parties are still alive and, second, as awkward as it is, I can embarrass myself but to expose the warts and blemishes of someone else is another matter entirely.
In the next few weeks I will share the story of Antonio, the man with the most original excuses for being late to work, the tale of the Hungarian terrified of cows, a story of grace made manifest in a simple meal, and the incredible story of our Thanksgiving adventure into the land of the Havasupai. I hope you enjoy them.
In the meanwhile, don't forget this weekend will be another installment in books and travel tips. This time the focus will be on overlooked attractions only found on the road less traveled.
Now, new business. Reservations have been made, and my professional bio and a photo are now posted on the official website for the big Route 66 festival in Amarillo. Its official, we will be in Amarillo in June. Will you be there?
The adventures in discovery with the Route 66 encyclopedia continue. The latest ones are a bit dark in nature - a mining disaster in Braidwood, a bus accident at the Kingman Army Airfield that left a number of recruits dead or injured, and a flood that closed more than 100 miles of Route 66.
I met briefly with John Spring yesterday and it would seem has a vision for the future of Route 66 that dove tails nicely with those of Ron Hart of the Route 66 Chamber of Commerce. Lets see how this plays out.
Discussions are underway with a tour company that is planning to institute a southwest ghost town tour. My role would be to outline the schedule in such a manner most nights are spent at historic hotels, to provide the cheat sheets for the guide, and to make an appearance to answer questions. At this stage it is more talk than substance but it is an idea with merit. Time will tell.
So, until Saturday ...

REFLECTIONS

I am of the opinion that it is the embarrassing and awkward moments in dating that are the litmus test for long term compatibility. If you can't find humor in those situations that strip all pretense and that pull down the most carefully constructed facade when your dating, there is little hope you will be able to laugh your way through the trials and tribulations of life that provide endless opportunities for gifted comedians to prosper.
To a degree I base this on our year and half courtship and the 28 year marriage that has followed. As an example consider the episode of the wet pants.
I had just purchased a 1964 Dodge truck and was unsure of its overall condition so my girlfriend, now my dearest friend and wife, agreed to follow me to the ranch in her Charger. We were about five miles from town when the temperature gauge began a slow but steady climb so I pulled over, climbed out, and opened the hood
My cursory look under the hood was cut short with the realization there was a spreading sense of wet warmth at the crotch level. Well, as it turned out the radiator had a perfectly positioned pin hole leak.
Now, here I am in front of my new truck with wet pants. Waiting patiently behind the truck is my girlfriend. My embarrassment was met with a smile as I walked back to her car. How could I have expected anything else?
On one of our first dates I arrived in a 1946 GMC that was parked on a hill to avoid asking her to help push start it. On another we double dated in a 1926 Ford touring car that had sat outside with no top for almost forty years. Then there was the triple date to the drive in theater that involved a '49 GMC flatbed truck and most of the furniture from a friends living room including the couch and recliner.
In the years to follow, our little jaunts have run the gamut from sedate family vacations to Williamsburg, Monticello, and Virginia Beach in Virginia to being lost deep in the south side of Chicago, from spontaneous trips trips to Michigan planned in less than a day and train trips that provided us the ability to see the world as a canned sardine. Even on a tight budget we found ways ensure to our son saw America and learned to savor the adventures of life. 
The acquisition of the Jeep a couple of years ago took our adventures to a new level. On our first outing we abandoned any semblance of the wisdom that is supposed to be the reward of having survived a half century on planet earth and gleefully bounced over and around rocks, skirted deep chasms, and made a road where need be.
Our reward was more stories, lots of laughter, new memories, and a realization that Jeeps do have limitations. The highlight was hearing the clerk in Chloride, an old mining town, say, "I didn't know that road was still passable?" The response, "It isn't."

Equally as important as a sense of humor is an adventuresome spirit. I learned quite early in our relationship my dearest friend had both and in spades. For that I am most grateful as it has ensured we are never bored, we are never short on memories that make us smile, and are never short of stories to keep dinner party conversations lively.
Our recent excursion to Missouri using the Jeep and a 1929 Rand McNally road atlas, as well as Jerry McClanahan's excellent EZ 66 Guide, to seek the ghost towns of Route 66 was but the latestest in a three decade Odyssey that has taken us from border to border and coast to coast. This year has started a bit slow, even though we have managed two winter excursions on legendary Route 66, but we have a couple of grand ones on the horizon - Amarillo in June, and Chicago in the fall.

BOOKS AND THE TROUBLE THEY CAUSE

The past couple of days have been a blur of research, reading, snow storms and related issues, computer problems at the office, time with the grand kids, work on the Route 66 encyclopedia, and, in my spare time, finalizing arrangements for the big international Route 66 festival in Amarillo in June. It seems the only thing there wasn't time for was blog postings.
For a wide array of reasons we are really getting excited about Amarillo in June. It will be our first participation in one of these annual shindigs, there are lots of old friends to see, it will be an opportunity to put faces with names, and it will allow for a face to face thank you to some of the people who have been so helpful in the transformation of ideas into books.
Then there is the little matter of this being the first time one of my books will make its debut with such fanfare. The publisher has put a rush on the final product to ensure Ghost Towns of Route 66 will be ready for its moment in the spotlight.
I know gasoline prices will put a damper on a lot of vacation plans but if it all possible we hope you will be able to attend. The link above for the festival will take you to a website with all of the particulars including information about the host hotel.
As you may have guessed by now, books are an important part of my life for at least the last half century or so. They have provided solace, perspective, encouragement, and direction over the years. They have also led to some very interesting adventures.
Long ago during my "John Wayne" period I met a few cowboys from the remote village of Supai. We developed a bit of a friendship and in spite of numerous invitations, I never made the journey into the canyon wonderlands of the Havasupai people.
That all changed when I discovered the book, Life in a Narrow Place by Stephen Hirst. Hirst spent a number of months living with the people of the blue green water (the loose translation of the word Havasupai) and wrote of his experiences and the tragic choices this tribe has had to make.
A number of the children he wrote about were the men I knew. That inspired my first adventure into the land of narrow places.
Since that first adventure I have returned on numerous occasions. On the last trip into the canyon I took my dearest friend and we enjoyed a wonderful Thanksgiving weekend with friends as well as the adventure of lifetime, or at least the adventure of the month.
Now that was an adventure! A winter horseback ride, broken cinch, a blizzard, good food, good friends, a sixty mile drive on unplowed roads in a car with a broken window, and a helicopter ride into blinding snow were just a few of the highlights. This truly is a story for another day.
I was working on the ranch in the Mimbres River Valley when I discovered the chronicles of James McKenna in a book entitled, Black Range Tales. For months I packed a copy of this book in the truck or saddle bags as I sought the places from the frontier era in New Mexico he spoke of.
The book added depth and context to the live I was living and the landscapes I was living it in. It also led to a few memorable outings such as the episode when we were forced to back down the escarpment of Cooks Peak - with a dead truck, and no power steering, and on a road so narrow we removed the towing mirrors and to exit on the passenger side required climbing into the back of the truck first. This too is a story for another day.
It was Emily Post's By Motor to the Golden Gate that first introduced me to La Bajada Hill. This series of switchbacks on the road from Santa Fe to Albuquerque, Route 66 until the early 1930s, was dreaded by motorists, at least that is what I had been led to believe.
In this book I discovered that this was all a matter of perspective. When she made the drive in 1915, it was the best part of the road between Las Vegas and Albuquerque. When I drove it in a Rambler station wagon, and left my muffler behind, the impression was that the road was in need of improvement.
It was a box of vintage True West magazines that first sent me seeking the lost treasure of the COD mine, first introduced me to the frontier era lawman Commodore Perry Owens, and that played a key role in my decision to try my lunch as a cowboy. I am quite glad to say that under the stewardship of Bob "Boze" Bell, the magazine is alive and well, and is still inspiring me.
It served as a valuable resource when writing Ghost Towns of the Southwest.
Books are more than just a great way to while away a winters evening. They are also a great way to fill those empty places in the head with useless bits of knowledge, a few things that will be useful at the most unexpected times, and amazing inspirations for some grand adventures.