Route 66 conjures memories and mysteries. A sense of romance and forgotten adventure travels what remains of the road from Illinois to California. Every time I’ve found bits of it to ride along, I look for defeated telephone poles,leftover motels and tourist sites as an archeologist seeks clues. While I have found a good number, I always thought it could be an unending adventure. Last weekend, on a family trip to Los Angeles, we found ourselves in Santa Monica. Reaching the iconic pier left me stunned when I realized we’d come to the end of Route 66. I expected more than a sign and a few handfuls of tourists. The road could not travel any further. It had reached the Pacific.It’s job was complete, but I still wanted more. Just selfish I guess.
appropriatelyfrayed 