It’s time I finished the accounting of our journey along Route 66. To be truthful, our trip along the Mother Road was anticlimactic after we left the Mojave Desert. Once we began our decent into the Los Angeles Basin, we quickly lost signs of the old road. For the most part, Route 66 disappears under the urban sprawl, concrete, and murky air of Southern California.

Elmer’s Bottle Tree Ranch in San Bernardino County, California

We chose to stay on the freeways and just make a beeline to Santa Monica and grab our selfie at the pier, the traditional ending to a 2,600-mile odyssey. Things didn’t unfold in the way we hoped. In the first place, it took hours of heavy traffic, bumper to bumper across the LA metro area. It was no fun pulling the trailer in a stop and go crawl. The worst part of our morning, however, was getting to the coast and finding a place to park the car and trailer while we ran to take our selfie. The only parking lot that would allow us to leave the trailer wanted $60.00. $60.00 to leave a trailer for a 15-minute walk to the pier!!!!!!! It was more than I was willing to suffer. I didn’t need a photograph of a sign to prove that we had made the trip. We took a picture on the beach, got back into our car, and drove up the coast to visit a dear friend in Arroyo Grande.

A flock of pelicans cruising along the surf at Refugio Beach State Park

On our way north, we stopped for the night at Refugio Beach State Park for the night. When I was a kid, our family camped here, and it was a fun memory to revisit. It was nice to sit in camp and think back at what we had just accomplished. Virginia wanted us to do this trip now because I’ll be turning 67 in a few months. She thought it would be fun to complete this bucket list item while I was still 66.

Since I don’t have a lot to say about the California stretch of the road, I’ll share a few of my feelings and what’s been on my mind for 2,600 miles. Virginia and I have been through a lot, and the last few months have been chaotic. We haven’t had time to ourselves in all the bustle that followed our return from Hawaii. That mission was an intense two years, and we needed a rest. Unfortunately, a rest wasn’t an item on our to-do list. When we got home after stepping off the plane and carried our bags into the house, we quickly realized our home wasn’t going to suit us to settle into. There wasn’t any one thing wrong, the house was just worn out. We raised six children over the course of about 30 years. The house took a lot of abuse. My career was exhausting, and church work kept us occupied during that same 30-year stretch. In the ten months since Hawaii, we installed wood floors in the upstairs bedrooms, tore down dated window coverings, and put in plantation shutters. Virginia cleaned, patched, textured, and painted every wall and ceiling in the house. I repaired all the broken pieces along the way, finished the laundry room that was long overdue for completion, and replaced cheap hollow-core doors. As spring emerged, the yard beckoned for my attention with gardens to restore, trees to remove, and general cleanup. They were ten exhausting months of restoration as we blew through tens of thousands of dollars. We also were under pressure to make adjustments to the house to accommodate Virginia’s mother and aunt, who have moved in with us and taken the downstairs. Sadly, there was no recovery period from our labors in Hawaii.

Pismo Beach from the end of the pier at dusk.

We love our Scamp trailer. It is home away from home. In some ways, the Scamp is homier than the house. I love being out on the road, and Virginia is my soulmate and life-long travel companion. One would think that after 40 years of marriage there wouldn’t me much left to talk about. Somehow, we filled hours upon hours of chit chat and deep, intellectual discussions. Our time flew past as our wheels spun and bumped along an historic and picturesque Route 66. The trailer is small, only about 75sq feet. How can two adults survive in a space that small? Easy. When you love the one you’re with, no space is too small or too large. It was just right.

Hawaii is long behind us, and we are off on new adventures. All that remains of our time in Hawaii is to prepare a few photographs to decorate our walls. Why is that taking so long? These will be very large photographs, big enough to cover entire walls. It will be a deep investment, and I’ll need a few more months before we make that transaction. So, Route 66 is behind us and in our memories, like my view in the rearview mirror of the Toyota. It was a grand adventure, but that has ended. There is plenty more that is still on our horizon.