Camp Jeep: Overnight In Clinton, OK − 11 September, 1995
(Pulled, warts and all, from a spiral-bound journal)
As is typical, there has been a rather large gap in the entries for Transcontinental Run 3. The Smith family, along with the activities of Camp Jeep did not afford me much time to collect my thoughts. As I sit here in the Western Sizzlin, I'm feeling a bit jittery. Probably from trying to wind down from twelve plus hours on the road. Before I pick up the trail in Clinton (OK), let me continue where I left off before...
As I had stated previously, the meat pie at St. Louis Brewing was top notch. (Much like the cheesecake here promises to be!) The beers, especially their wheat (unfiltered) were all above average, as well. In addition to the wheat, a bock (I believe) and a couple of others that my memory refuses to reveal. There was also a cask-conditioned ale available that I did not try.
Six samples were enough to slow my already exhausted body to a near standstill. My waitress was quite obviously not a native of the U.S. If I had to guess, I'd say the northern part of the U.K. I should have asked, but I was more intent on reading my "Route 66 Traveler's Guide" in order to plan Stage Two of my St. Louis stopover.
With very little difficulty, I was able to follow the highway's circuitous route through the city until it became marked with Historic Route 66 signs. My two objectives were to find the Coral Court Motel (an Art Deco no-tell motel) and Ted Drewes' Frozen Custard Stand. Alas, I was too late to see the Court. According to a gentleman I spoke with at Ted Drewes', it had fallen to the wrecking ball a month earlier. The only indication that it had ever been there was a sign placed by the new owners of the property - "Farewell Coral Court, No More One Night Stands".
Replacing such a structure with cheaply-built, high-priced homes doesn't sound much like progress to me. Thank heavens Ted Drewes' stand was still open for business. And a brisk business it was at 4:30 in the afternoon. I ordered a chocolate malt (not the concrete, but the thin version) and spoke with (I presume) one of Mr. Drewes' descendants who worked there.
After that, I crawled through rush hour traffic back to the interstate and slowly departed for Columbia. By the time I reached Columbia (around 6:30), it had begun to rain. Hence, I opted for a room at the Budget Host Motel, as opposed to a campsite. I cruised by the mall where I picked up a copy of a Doctor Who Missing Adventures book entitled, 'Goth Opera" (a pretty good read, so far). Afterwards, I partook of an unremarkable steak dinner and returned for a good night's rest.
One thing that impressed me about the hotel was that the night clerk called my room to ask if everything was acceptable. Granted, she was just doing her duty, but I can't recall that ever happening before; not even in some of the high-priced joints I've stayed in. I awoke at 5am to a rainy forecast and plenty of miles ahead. I knew that driving through Kansas would be tedium personified, but I felt much more alive for my rest.
Kansas comprises 437 miles of interstate, but that's not the problem. Once you get around 100 miles into the state, the scenery ceases to change. It's almost as if the wheels of the car were stuck on some kind of treadmill. To be fair, it really isn't that bad, but I don't think I'll pass that way again. I-70, for part of the way, is a toll road/turnpike. I think it cost $1.25 for the entire trip (not bad).
I welcomed the signs which indicated how far it was to the next group of services. Read that as no more playing "beat the gas gauge". Of late, the fuel meter in the Jeep has been less accurate than before. It it reads 1/4 tank, you're sucking fumes. Two tanks of gas were employed in the crossing of Kansas. Had the crosswinds which threatened to blow me off the road been redirected, I probably wouldn't have used any gas at all. For a part of the time, I alternately followed and led another Jeep bound for Colorado (I'm guessing here). I did meet some folks on the trail who said they had seen me on the road earlier.
In one of the most ironic of instances, the town of Liberal, Kansas was just down the road from Bob Dole's hometown (the name escapes me at the moment). Now, here I am in Clinton. I'll have to run Andrea's nose in it upon my return. I will continue the trail into Colorado in my next entry. Right now, I'm going to turn a few pages in my book before turning in.
As is typical, there has been a rather large gap in the entries for Transcontinental Run 3. The Smith family, along with the activities of Camp Jeep did not afford me much time to collect my thoughts. As I sit here in the Western Sizzlin, I'm feeling a bit jittery. Probably from trying to wind down from twelve plus hours on the road. Before I pick up the trail in Clinton (OK), let me continue where I left off before...
As I had stated previously, the meat pie at St. Louis Brewing was top notch. (Much like the cheesecake here promises to be!) The beers, especially their wheat (unfiltered) were all above average, as well. In addition to the wheat, a bock (I believe) and a couple of others that my memory refuses to reveal. There was also a cask-conditioned ale available that I did not try.
Six samples were enough to slow my already exhausted body to a near standstill. My waitress was quite obviously not a native of the U.S. If I had to guess, I'd say the northern part of the U.K. I should have asked, but I was more intent on reading my "Route 66 Traveler's Guide" in order to plan Stage Two of my St. Louis stopover.
With very little difficulty, I was able to follow the highway's circuitous route through the city until it became marked with Historic Route 66 signs. My two objectives were to find the Coral Court Motel (an Art Deco no-tell motel) and Ted Drewes' Frozen Custard Stand. Alas, I was too late to see the Court. According to a gentleman I spoke with at Ted Drewes', it had fallen to the wrecking ball a month earlier. The only indication that it had ever been there was a sign placed by the new owners of the property - "Farewell Coral Court, No More One Night Stands".
Replacing such a structure with cheaply-built, high-priced homes doesn't sound much like progress to me. Thank heavens Ted Drewes' stand was still open for business. And a brisk business it was at 4:30 in the afternoon. I ordered a chocolate malt (not the concrete, but the thin version) and spoke with (I presume) one of Mr. Drewes' descendants who worked there.
After that, I crawled through rush hour traffic back to the interstate and slowly departed for Columbia. By the time I reached Columbia (around 6:30), it had begun to rain. Hence, I opted for a room at the Budget Host Motel, as opposed to a campsite. I cruised by the mall where I picked up a copy of a Doctor Who Missing Adventures book entitled, 'Goth Opera" (a pretty good read, so far). Afterwards, I partook of an unremarkable steak dinner and returned for a good night's rest.
One thing that impressed me about the hotel was that the night clerk called my room to ask if everything was acceptable. Granted, she was just doing her duty, but I can't recall that ever happening before; not even in some of the high-priced joints I've stayed in. I awoke at 5am to a rainy forecast and plenty of miles ahead. I knew that driving through Kansas would be tedium personified, but I felt much more alive for my rest.
Kansas comprises 437 miles of interstate, but that's not the problem. Once you get around 100 miles into the state, the scenery ceases to change. It's almost as if the wheels of the car were stuck on some kind of treadmill. To be fair, it really isn't that bad, but I don't think I'll pass that way again. I-70, for part of the way, is a toll road/turnpike. I think it cost $1.25 for the entire trip (not bad).
I welcomed the signs which indicated how far it was to the next group of services. Read that as no more playing "beat the gas gauge". Of late, the fuel meter in the Jeep has been less accurate than before. It it reads 1/4 tank, you're sucking fumes. Two tanks of gas were employed in the crossing of Kansas. Had the crosswinds which threatened to blow me off the road been redirected, I probably wouldn't have used any gas at all. For a part of the time, I alternately followed and led another Jeep bound for Colorado (I'm guessing here). I did meet some folks on the trail who said they had seen me on the road earlier.
In one of the most ironic of instances, the town of Liberal, Kansas was just down the road from Bob Dole's hometown (the name escapes me at the moment). Now, here I am in Clinton. I'll have to run Andrea's nose in it upon my return. I will continue the trail into Colorado in my next entry. Right now, I'm going to turn a few pages in my book before turning in.
