Being a graphic designer in this digital age, it’s not too often I get to bust out my paint brushes from my college days. In fact, it’s been almost ten years since I’ve taken to a canvas that isn’t housed inside my computer screen. A few months ago via Facebook, we got wind of a contest held by the Atlanta Betterment Fund:

“Modeled on Chicago’s “Cows on Parade” exhibit, the Rt. 66 Reinterpreted Art Project presents artists the opportunity to create their own take on one of the 20th Century’s most iconic and recognizable symbols: The U.S. Rt. 66 Highway Shield.”

We obviously jumped on the project! Just a week or so after sending off $25 and an application to Atlanta, IL, a giant box, which held a 2 ft. x 2 ft. white-painted wooden shield, landed on our doorstep. The only question was, what did Route 66 Illinois mean to us?

We live 90 miles north of Chicago, so the Illinois stretch of 66 is obviously our most traveled slice of the route. Last year we hit the road four separate times on our “grassroots” book tour, and got real familiar with this particular stretch! One the things we noticed is how clearly they now mark Route 66 — even through frequent turns, like through small towns outside of the Chicagoland area and the southwest towns you traverse before you get to the outskirts of greater East St. Louis. In other words, Jerry McClanahan’s EZ Guide is indeed our bible on the route, but not necessarily required for turn-by-turn in Illinois.

Route 66 means many things to many people, but for me, what I love most is the cast of characters and Illinois has them in spades. Roadside oddities are a dying breed in America. Before there were Nintendo DS consoles, iPads and SUVs equipped with DVD players, the strange attractions that dotted the American landscape are what broke up the long stretches of road. To this day, however, people who still love cross-country travel know there’s just something about seeing a giant ketchup bottle in the sky and sitting down to a homemade slice of apple pie. And from Atlanta’s own Tall Paul the Hot Dog Man, to Livingston’s Pink Elephant, Illinois is jam packed with roadside oddities. So while my translation of Route 66 Illinois was quite literal, I decided a collage of these beloved characters, attractions and pitstops simply had to be the subject of this art project! So I got to work developing a collage on my computer. I printed it out and created a hand-drawn replica on the white shield. After a third attempt at rummaging through our basement, I finally located all my college painting supplies and got to work.

The general painting was pretty easy, like riding a bike. It wasn’t until I had to get detailed that I realized my creative limitations. I had a blast though! Over the next month, in about a half dozen 4-6 hour painting sessions, I finished up the shield with about a day or two to spare before the shipping deadline! (Just like college, working under a time crunch is clearly the only way I operate.)

The end result makes me happy, not at all because I think it’s the best painting in the world, because it has flaws galore, but because it is EXACTLY how I feel about Route 66 Illinois: familiar friends who will always be there to welcome us as we traverse the great plains, from dawn ’til dusk.

And as if my creation satisfied the travel gods, while watching TV few days ago, Chris actually caught this gorgeous ad put out by DiscoverIllinois.org:

“Route 66 was a highway like no other, and mile-for-mile, you can still discover more of it in Illinois.”

The ad’s final tagline couldn’t be more true. Even in the dozen or so trips Chris has made through this stretch over the past seven years since his Route 66 love affair began, there are countless hidden gems he has yet to uncover! And at only a hop, skip and a half-tank of gas away, a Route 66 Illinois adventure is always practically at our doorstep. Exploring its endless supply of characters and caretakers will probably be an annual tradition for Fading Nostalgia.

For example, the Red Carpet Corridor event is one of the Route 66-specific festivals we hit up last year when we did a book-signing in Pontiac, IL. During the first weekend in May, 13 communities sponsor a 90-mile stretch, from Joliet to Towanda, with activities, food and music. This year marks the 7th festival and we definitely look forward to traveling through once again! And just 30 or so miles southwest of Towanda sits Atlanta, IL, which will have freshly painted Route 66 Reinterpreted shields proudly displayed throughout the town. We can’t wait to see how others interpreted this project — from local Route 66 lifers, to young kids just starting to fall in love with the road, to newbies like me who have adopted it as their own home-away-from-home. Thank you Illinois for keeping Route 66 fresh, fun, alive and well in America!

The winter always brings out the best in night photography. The skies are a royal shade of blue and the air is clear, crisp and devoid of the soupy humidity typical to a Wisconsin summer. Unfortunately this also means braving Wisconsin’s frigid winter temps. This past New Year’s Eve was as frigid as it gets, or at least as cold as we can stand, knowing we’ll be in the elements for at least an hour!

Due to a thick cloud cover during the three best days of the December full moon, we decided to make this New Year’s one for the books by venturing 3+ hours north of Milwaukee to Gleason, WI, for another light-painting excursion. Cozied up in our half dozen layers of clothing, we hit the road around noon in order to check out the site in daylight.

Chris had his eye on an abandoned Estonian church for quite some time, thwarted for months due to full moons that were hidden by weather or inconvenienced by ‘school nights.’ One weekday a few months back, a sky that appeared clear as crystal in Milwaukee, slowly clouded over as we trekked north, so we made the painful decision to turn around in Stevens Point, a mere hour and a half from our destination. Not this time. This time, the sky was perfect. After a lovely drive northward, we found the suitably-named Estonian Church Rd. and ventured down a snowy (but thankfully plowed) gravel drive, passing a cottage house to our right, seemingly empty for the time being. There, nestled deep in a clearing of trees which lined the field, stood a modest, one-room structure, like an old man slouched up against an imaginary wall, exhausted from decades of toiling the fields. We jumped out of the car and took a tour of the church.

Some quick background on the Estonian Evangelical Lutheran Church: A small group of Estonian pilgrims, who immigrated to the States in order to escape oppression back home, decided to settle in north-central Wisconsin when they heard that the landscape was not unlike their native land. Being the close-knit and devout group they were, the construction of a new community church was top priority. The small building was finished in 1914, nearly 100 years ago, to become the very first Estonian church in the United States. Sadly, it only celebrated 50 anniversaries until vandalism and pilferage paved the way to its closure in 1964. Most everything in the church was destroyed or stolen (even the small bell that had been donated by Sears-Roebuck), so the church members saw no point in reopening the doors. Since then, many have tried to maintain its structure for posterity–shoring foundation and giving it a new roof–but the little church never reopened to hold official services.

Everything checked out ok as we took our little tour and we were actually pretty surprised at how well the structure held up as we peered into the mouth of the church. Obviously a lot of people loved this church enough to at least make an attempt to keep it from collapsing into the earth. We took gingered steps inside of the single room, decorated with nothing but broken glass, some old doors and windows and a pulpit.

The wood floors, and more importantly the steps leading up to the bell tower, were solid enough. We made a game plan for the evening’s compositions, color options and angles from which we would light up the inside of the church. As the bare trees to the west swallowed up what remained of the day, we climbed back into the car. We had another five hours until the waning gibbous moon would rise high enough to expose the old church.

Wausau proved to be a nice way to pass those five hours with dinner at Hudson’s Grill (where any road trip/Route 66/Americana fan would feel at home) and coffee at a nearby Starbucks, which thankfully stayed open ‘til 9pm. Dozens of news articles, a failed NYTimes crossword and successful Sudoku later we were back on the road. We explored the streets of quaint downtown Wausau for a little while, NYE party-goers walked briskly to their various locations. Then on our journey back to the church, we made a quick gas station stop to grab some hand- and toe-warmer packets, both of which proved less than effective, at least on this particularly arctic evening.

Once again, we pulled onto Estonian Church Rd., drove passed the darkened home to our right (its inhabitants perhaps out for New Year’s or on vacation somewhere warm!). We braced ourselves for the sub-zero temps and set up shop outside the church, the glowing moon rising at our backs. Even though we had explored the battered innards earlier, I still had some trouble climbing the ladder to the bell tower. Four inch wide steps plus four inch tall boot heels make for an interesting combination when stumbling inside a dark building in the middle of the night! I do have to mention that when we first walked up to the church, we heard three distinct knocking sounds come from the building’s direction…as if someone was walking down the ladder steps. It was clear enough to stop us both dead in our tracks with the assumption that someone was indeed inside! No one appeared, but obviously the initial batch of heart palpitations didn’t help my courage while climbing up the steps myself. Eventually, when I grew annoyed with the bell tower window not being lit up adequately, I swallowed my fear and climbed all the way up to the platform rather than cowardly clinging to the top step.

We took a little over half a dozen shots of the north side of the church in four different colors, each exposure a little over five minutes long before moving to the center for a few straight-on shots to include the pulpit. Our fingers and toes were definitely starting to feel the elements now. I actually ran back to the car to put on a third pair of gloves! We moved on to the south side of the church for a just a handful of shots, using only yellow this time. During each exposure, after I was done lighting up the interior, Chris and I would stare up at the sky trying to spot shooting stars. A dog barked in the distance, but otherwise it was deafeningly quiet out there…any other sounds were absorbed by the landscape’s ice-encrusted coating of snow.

About an hour and a half into our shoot, Chris’s camera decided that enough was enough. We pulled off one more shot (my favorite of the bunch!) and packed it in. We blasted the heat and Chris spent the next ten minutes in agony trying to unthaw his toes. At about a quarter to midnight, we said goodbye to the little church. As we drove along toward legendary Highway 51, we glanced inside dozens of brightly-lit homes full of family and friends celebrating the stroke of midnight. After quite the epic year of creativity and adventure for the both of us, we really couldn’t think of a better way to ring in the new year.

For additional information on the history of the Estonian church, please visit the Antigo Daily Journal and the Estonian World Review.

Remember the bin of mystery grab bags sold in trading posts? The Holiday season is fast approaching and what better way to get into the gift-giving spirit than to pass on our souvenir-love to you?! We’ve raided our archives and pooled together six weeks of tchotchkes perfect for mini mystery gift packs. When we give *Mystery Monday* a shout-out on Facebook and Twitter every Monday, that will be your cue to head to this post to check out the gift pack clue. To enter for a chance to win the gift pack, simply make a comment on this post below with the current date (i.e. November 12). While you can only enter once per Monday, you can enter EVERY Monday! We will then announce the winner right here the following day. If we announce your name, simply contact us at ontheroad@fadingnostalgia.com and provide your name and mailing address so we can send you your prize! (Never fear, we don’t send mass mailings or newsletters!)

Good luck and have fun!!

Monday, December 17

MYSTERY MONDAY #6 CLUE: Over the past five weeks we’ve mailed out a dozen stickers, half a dozen magnets, retro greeting cards, five sets of Fading Nostalgia buttons and other fun souvenirs from our trips across the country. We’ve got a few stickers, magnets and even a newly designed t’shirt in our box of goodies, so comment below with today’s date to enter our very last giveaway!

WINNER: Congrats Ed Klein!!

Monday, December 10

MYSTERY MONDAY #5 CLUE: This week’s pack is straight up Wacky Wiscy at its finest! And you don’t have to be from here to appreciate this hip Pachyderm. Comment below with today’s date to enter and this mini mystery gift could end up in your mailbox!

WINNER: Congrats Renée!!

Monday, December 3

MYSTERY MONDAY #4 CLUE: This week’s pack is totally vintage and even a little bawdy! You’ve been warned! Comment below with today’s date to enter and this mini mystery gift could end up in your mailbox!

WINNER: Congrats Jeroen!!

Monday, November 26

MYSTERY MONDAY #3 CLUE: If you snag this week’s pack, you’ll easily be able to pay it forward all year ’round. Comment below with today’s date to enter and this mini mystery gift could end up in your mailbox!

WINNER: Congrats Josh!!

Monday, November 19

MYSTERY MONDAY #2 CLUE: This week’s pack is sponsored by a couple of our favorite furry friends of the road. Comment below with today’s date to enter and this mini mystery gift could end up in your mailbox!

WINNER: Congrats Mike!!

Monday, November 12

MYSTERY MONDAY #1 CLUE: This week’s pack contains stuff close to our hearts and closer to our tires. Comment below with today’s date to enter and this mini mystery gift could end up in your mailbox!

WINNER: Congrats Karla!!

*Giveaway details: International entries welcomed! Post one comment for one entry; only one entry per person per Monday (you may enter every Monday). Entries must be received on Mondays only, until 11:59pm CST. Winners will picked using a Random List Generator and then announced on this blog post on Tuesday. You have six days to claim your prize. If you do not claim your prize, the next person on the randomized list of entries will be announced as the winner. Entrants may win more than once! No purchase necessary. No need for a Facebook or Twitter account to participate. Giveaway ends on Tuesday, December, 18. Prizes will be mailed at the end of the six-week contest in case of multiple wins by the same entrant.

One evening last week, I got a text photo from a friend. Scattered all over her floor were mugs, plates, drinking glasses, bowls, notebooks and other wares adorned with kitschy illustrations of Route 66. My fingers scrambled, I couldn’t write back fast enough. “Wahhhhh?!?!? Where?!!!”

“Target!” she replied.

Ah yes, the new pop-up shops! To those who aren’t aware, this is the second run of short-lived boutiques at the ends of aisles in Target with limited-edition product which reflects a small American business. It’s kinda cool, Corp Target is giving exposure to the little guys. One of the four boutiques featured this fall is based on The Curiosity Shoppe, run by Derek Fagerstrom and Lauren Smith out in San Francisco. You can find all kinds of cute art books and jewelry and knickknacks in the SF store. After being approached by Target the couple decided their 2004 honeymoon would act as their inspiration for the Target pop-up store with the same moniker. While it would appear as though Derek and Lauren’s honeymoon revolved around traveling the Mother Road, they have yet to say as much.

As you quickly scan the designs you’ll find incredibly specific icons of Route 66: Catoosa’s Blue Whale, Arcadia’s Round Barn, Wilmington’s Gemini Giant, Atlanta’s hot-dog wielding Tall Paul, Amarillo’s Caddy Ranch, McLean’s Phillips Station, the Wigwams of Rialto and Holbrook, and even the leaning Britten tower in Groom. The funny thing is: there’s a numbered highway sign connecting all these magical places and it’s not 66. It’s not even 33 or 99…but Route 32. In fact, another Route 66 icon plastered on the oven mitts and notebooks is the Needles 66 Motel sign, only it says Motel 32. And if these weren’t proof enough, the journey that dots the pattern landscape begins and ends with the cities Chicago and Los Angeles, respectively.

Immediately I had to know the story behind this strange situation: to be so literal in translation except for the most important detail had to have an explanation. Did they run into problems with licensing? Or perhaps they wanted to bring focus to the Curiosity Shoppe rather than Route 66. So I emailed the San Francisco store, totally rolling the dice at a response considering the couple is undoubtedly scrambling through fame just days after the shop dropped into Target stores nationwide. To my surprise I did indeed receive a response just a day later. They simply explained that there wasn’t a specific reason behind the 32, just that in conjured a road not yet traveled. To add to that, here’s another reference from an article on the SFGate website:

“…we were thinking about the things that are important to us,” [Lauren] Smith adds. “When we got married, we took a road trip to the Midwest and went to Mount Rushmore and junk shops and bought a bunch of little tchotchkes that tell a story and make us remember that time,” she says. “So we got stuck on this idea of road trips.”

Again, no mention of Route 66. Mount Rushmore does appear in the products’ illustrations, and in fact, sort of acts as the sore thumb to any 66 fan who would glance at these items. This leads me to believe that this collaboration with Target was simply that, a collaboration. The product line merely instills the spirit of the Curiosity Shoppe with its kitschy knickknacks as well as the couple’s road trip to Mount Rushmore, but the Target designers themselves ran with the Route 66 idea. Lauren and Derek’s email referred me to Target’s PR email address if I had any further questions, so I’m curious–no pun intended–if the corp will shed more light on the subject.

I’m going to be straight-up honest. Chris and I were both a little deflated about the lack of 66 reference and our slight bitterness is two-fold. When I received that text photo of the truly adorable illustrations smattered all over equally adorable house and kitchenwares, my gut reaction was a smidge of jealousy. Being a graphic designer myself–and obviously a huge 66 fan–I’ve spent a whole heck of a lot of time thinking about a strikingly similar concept. Chris and I have all to often discussed designing a line of Route 66 souvies specific to each roadside attraction: design that would both highlight and unify the Route’s odd but lovable cast of characters. The only thing holding us back was figuring out a way to go about it without stepping on the toes of any of the attractions that already sell their own themed tchotckes. We wanted to work directly with each owner or caretaker. For example, we recently teamed up with the owner of the Midpoint Cafe in Adrian, TX, on updated postcards with a potential for magnets down the road. But take the Blue Whale for instance, while there is no online-presence and it’s open only on Saturdays or so, the classic Route 66 stop does indeed have a gift shop which sells Blue Whale merch. When I spotted the mugs sitting on a Target shelf with the classic icon perfectly illustrated and emblazoned around the sides–not a representation, but a literal translation–I thought to myself: well, they had to have gotten permission right? At least a heads up?

Secondly, I gotta say that at a time when Route 66 is really on the cusp of mainstream exposure amongst younger generations, this whole Route 32 thing is sort of a bummer! It’s not as if the designers of this line [which, side note, is Made in China] imagined up a bunch of attractions or even loosely based them on various sites all over the U.S. Aside from Mount Rushmore, they’re all Route 66 places. And I get a little sad when I think about patrons buying the items because they’re cute and whimsical yet have no idea that these places actually exist, especially if you consider the fact that the product line is obviously marketed toward a young generation, a generation who is quite ironically obsessed with throwback nostalgia (think Instagram, Polaroid, Lomography). Maybe I don’t give young people enough credit though. Maybe they’re all googling “Britten USA tower” as I type.

Again, the fact that Lauren and Derek simply wanted to conjure the idea of a nostalgic road trip is awesome. I mean we get it! We’re right there with them. Secondly, I really do love the design and concept despite all my moaning! It’s beautiful, adorable and a truly perfect representation of Americana. And finally, I definitely give Target credit for showcasing these small business and look forward to the unveiling of more pop-up shops just like this. I guess I just see it as a missed opportunity. Sure a missed opportunity for someone like Chris and myself who would’ve LOVED to do a project like this. But much more importantly a missed opportunity to bring a refreshed Route 66 into the mainstream world of a younger generation.

With that said, you better believe we threw down and bought some of this stuff. I mean how often do you see all the things you adore about Route 66 plastered all over plates and bowls when you’re out buying cat litter and milk? I now get to drink my coffee from a Blue Whale mug in the morning! It’ll have to suffice until Chris and I can make our own Blue Whale mug…with Blue’s blessing of course.

Once again, if you’re just joining us, I encourage you to check out Parts One and Two. Now that you know a little more about night photography and light-painting, we’d love to take you on a little journey by recounting one of our absolute favorite night photography excursions: the Route 66 Painted Desert Trading Post. For those of you who followed along on our recent Route 66 road trip in June, this journey will sound familiar, but bears repeating! As a traveler of Route 66 for several years, Chris has found countless images of this lost place…in daylight of course. When we planned our trip to the Wheels on 66 festival in Tucumcari, we noticed that the trading post was just a short jaunt, 400 miles west near Holbrook, Arizona. Even though we weren’t headed that way, we decided it was imperative to make a special trip.

First of all some quick history on the Painted Desert Trading Post: Opened in the early ’40s by Dotch Windsor and his first wife, Alberta, Dotch (along with his second wife, Joy Nevin) ran the post until the mid-to-late ’50s when he decided to call it quits and leave the building to the arid, dusty elements. Even in those days when Route 66 was packed solid full of travelers and vacationers, the trading post was a remote destination with no electrical power (gravity did the work for the gas pumps and wind did the work for the appliances). Though it has been pummeled with sand for over half a century, you can still make out much of the painted graphics on the sides of the white building. Before the interstate pulled travelers miles away from Route 66, you could drive the gritty old alignment right up to the trading post. Now, however, the easiest way in is blocked by a large and solid metal gate emblazoned with a “No Trespassing” sign, as the property is now owned by a cattle rancher. There is an open way in about ten miles east of the post, but the road is washed out and clearly not fit for anything without four-wheel drive…especially a rental! Plus it sounded way more possible to visit the post if we, perhaps, got some sort of permission. We come in peace, afterall.

We were determined to find more information about the elusive curiosity. It was a light-painter’s dream comp: simple, pure white building; clear-as-crystal, deep blue sky; a barren desert landscape below a gorgeous blanket of stars. Even after reading website forum after forum, we were still unsure as to how we were going to reach this White Whale. A week before our trip, a conversation thread regarding the PDTP just happened to spark on the Route 66 World facebook page. Chris intently followed along with the various comments about protecting the trading post from vandals, as well as how to locate the owner so people could see the relic. Finally, days before our trip, Chris found a glimmer of hope in one Nick Gerlich from Texas who had just visited the trading post by mountain bike. He described how he had run into the cow boss on his way to the post and got the man’s kind blessing to go ahead and explore! After some additional conversations, we gleaned the impression that the cow boss was happy about the fervor surrounding the trading post and welcomed anyone to contact him to tour the place. In fact, just a few weeks ago, Kevin and Nancy Mueller—beloved caretakers of the famous Blue Swallow Motel—braved the blistering sun and heat to venture out to the trading post themselves!

The only thing was, we weren’t interested in seeing it in the daylight. We’d be going late, late into the night.

So once we officially hit the road with a better idea of our schedule, along one of the lengthier drives on the New Mexico highway heading toward Holbrook, Arizona, in a small section of the desert where mobile internet 4G magically exists, I emailed with Nick to ask about this magical place so many fans of Route 66 were just dying to see. Chris and I stopped at a McDonald’s in the parking lot of one of many Casinos off I-40 for some much needed wifi and while I typed out a blog from the previous day, we got a call from Nick! He gave Chris all the info we needed about the PDTP: the interstate exit, the padlocked fence, the cow boss, the condition of the road in, the animals and critters we might encounter, the 3 mile walk to the abandoned building. All thanks to Nick, I know my anxiety about going to the post completely blind (we were going at night afterall) was calmed. And Chris was just more excited than ever. We were set and we were stoked!

When we arrived in Holbrook, we stopped at Joe & Aggie’s for a soulful dinner to fuel our adventurous spirit. Stuffed full of enchiladas and sopapillas, we quickly unpacked our belongings at the newly renovated Globetrotter Lodge across from the Wigwam Motel, repacking our light-painting gear for the active night ahead. I stowed beef jerky and extra water in case “something bad happened,” along with various sprays of the bug and sun variety to act as our only line of defense against critters large and small (eep). With our heavy gear in tow, around 10:00pm, we embarked on one of our most intense journeys to date! Well, simultaneously intense and yet serene all at the same time.

Approaching Exit 320, we were both pretty anxious. Even with Nick’s advice, I still wondered about all the questionmarks: The long walk in…how long would it be? The cow boss…did Nick tell him about us or would he be pissed we trespassed? The animals…ugh, the ANIMALS…cows, antelope, snakes, scorps?? After a bumpy and twisty dirt-road ride to the gate, the waning moon had just poked into the eastern horizon. Moonrise over the desert. Simply beautiful.

We unpacked and hopped the gate with all of our gear: the point of no return.

The walk was indeed lengthy, but we were so excited, nervous and busy dodging cow pies, we barely noticed. The temperature was cool, but walking warmed us up quick. Even though you could see the glow of head and tail lights near the horizon, a couple miles to the south, we still felt absolutely alone out there. It was spooky, but definitely tranquil under those brilliant stars with the moonlight growing brighter with every moment. Soon enough the distinctive, crater-like mound of rock we had seen in photos loomed like a giant in the distance and we knew we were close. With the moon hung low in the sky, we could even see the reflective white rectangular building, so tiny, still a mile away.

When we arrived, we both breathed a sigh of relief. We busted out all the gear and got started: Chris comped and framed shots, I climbed around the barbed wire-protected concrete and dark, treacherous innards of the long-abandoned trading post to explore what I was up against. As Chris controlled the exposures, I popped the Vivitar flash at the walls and ceilings inside. First a blue gel, then a red one and finally a yellow: the yellow spoke volumes. To us it was perfection.

I continued to leap and hurdle around inside the building as Chris changed angles and compositions. As mentioned in Part Two yesterday, when using a Vivitar strobe-style flash, it’s not only tough to see where to step (between flashes, the inside is nearly pitch-black with just a dash of moonlight that seeps in through the east windows), but the flash occasionally blinded me when I accidentally kept my eyes open (what is this amateur hour?!). I weaved through the interior studs and tucked into alcoves. The structure wasn’t huge by any means, but there were a lot of windows that needed to be illuminated, so after every take I’d jog back through the desert brush to Chris, glance at his camera screen and say, “nope go-again,” jog back to the building and continue to crouch inside the corners of the exterior walls and dart in through the back with bursts of color. I must’ve done this at least three dozen times.

We had to get this perfect.

We’d undoubtedly never again step foot inside the Painted Desert Trading Post during such ideal conditions, so we spent several hours shooting several angles with several colors. Using the moon as our light-painter, we even shot a few ghosting ourselves into the photo (another popular night photographer technique). Eventually with the impending 3 mile walk ahead of us we called it a wrap and packed up for the long journey back to the car. And long it was. Midway through, the wind shifted directions and the temperature felt like it dropped thirty degrees! Even with light sweatshirts and a swift pace, we were freezing!! We passed the time pointing out all the familiar mile markers: the old tin can, the spot where you can still see the Route 66 divider line paint on the crumbling road, the cowpies. We even discovered that a noise we thought was the low, faint rumble of semi-trucks on I-40 was actually snoring cows under a bridge we crossed. And after what felt like an eternity, looming in the moonlight, we could spot the fence and our car just as we left it on the other side of the gate. The exhilaration and accomplishment you feel during a light-painting adventure is one thing, but the sense of calm and relief when you make it back to your car safely is the icing on the cake. And just after 3:00am we were back in our Globetrotter king-sized bed safe and sound.

We did it.

We hope the trading post is a permanent fixture on the Arizona desert landscape. Many have suggested renovating and re-opening the space, while others urge to let it be. Because it is so far off the beaten path, so to speak, perhaps letting it remain in its relic state will serve as a simple, but strong reminder of our past. We will never forget the night we spent there and what it must’ve been like to travel that same old road we walked, when the trading post was the only spot to stop for miles and miles.

Many thanks to all of you who followed along on our three-part series about light-painting and night photography. On the one hand, the last thing magicians do is reveal how they perform their tricks, but—at least for me—learning about the time it takes, the skill level involved and the terrain one must traverse to get a truly unique image almost makes it more powerful and engaging. And yes, even a little more magical.

Please visit our Prints page as many of Chris’s photographs in this series are available for purchase!

< Back to Part 2Forward to Part 1 >

If you’re just joining us, this is the second part in a three-part series that speaks to the history of night photography, the light-painting process and equipment photographers use, as well as an in-depth look at one of our most memorable light-painting experiences. To get an idea of where this technique originates, please be sure to head over to Part One.

Yesterday I mentioned Chris and my little excursions out to the train yard and to rural Wisconsin farm fields. Well these little adventures paved the way for bigger ones. Our road trips ventured out of state and our subject-matter became more elaborate. If it was a sunken copper dredge in the middle of the Torch Lake near the northern-most tip of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, we were off to find it. Perhaps it was an abandoned amusement park surrendered to the earth and the elements, tucked away in Medina County, Ohio, we were off to find it. Or maybe it was a lonely, dusty ghost town in the heart of the Mojave Desert, 2000 miles away, well, we were most definitely off to find it. We’re obviously road-trip AND photography junkies, so our two hobbies go hand-in-hand. And as you’ve undoubtedly noticed, on our Route 66 journeys it’s always been light-painting by night, Polaroid by day. (No matter how late into the wee hours the former can take us.)

Followed closely after “How do you do it?” one of the most popular questions we receive from those who stop at our art booth is “How do you find these places?” Chris can spend a multitude of hours scouring Google Satellite for hidden gems. And occasionally he stumbles upon a great old car, house or gas station just driving country roads. Chris also has a network of urban and rural explorers to thank for being the trailblazers. To name just a handful, photographer Brett Stoddart [Tidy Photography] provides a true wealth of knowledge when it comes to Wisconsin’s countryside. Talented and wise beyond her years, Kenzie Alizabeth acted as our guide when we visited Wichita’s famed Joyland Park (and her rural Kansas photography is fresh and beautiful!). Professor of Marketing at West Texas A&M and fellow-explorer, Dr. Nick Gerlich, gave us the scoop on finding the much sought-after and long-abandoned Route 66 Painted Desert Trading Post. And of course, aforementioned light-painters Noel Kerns and Troy Paiva have shared a treasure trove of southwestern desert locations. Additionally, there are countless websites and forums devoted to sharing spaces and places worthy of exploration.

The equipment necessary for a magical night full of light-painting can be as simple or as elaborate as you’d like. The camera fanciness isn’t all that important. Chris uses a Canon 5D Mk II with a wireless shutter release. For quick 30 second exposures I’m able to use my Canon 60D with on-camera shutter button just fine (great for capturing quick car trails!). Troy Paiva has often used his nearly decade-old Canon 20D and a standard “analog” film camera before that. As long as you have the ability to manually adjust your shutter speed, you’re set. And along with a tripod, the only items absolutely necessary for light-painting are:

1. Internal Light: An average flashlight goes for $10-$20 at your local market.
2. And/Or External Light: Moon, streetlights (but beware of the yellow-tinged sodium or green-tinged mercury vapors they emit all over your subject), flash and/or strobe lights
3. Color: Rosco stage/theatre gels are the go-to for most light-painters; any kind of colored gel or reflector will do the trick.

For the best of all worlds, you can pick up some cheap colored flashlights OR you can go all out and pick up the new highly-customizable ProtoMachines Full Color LED Light for $400, an incredible contraption Troy Paiva has dabbled with lately with striking results.

At the end of the day, however, it honestly doesn’t take much. But to get a good start, here’s a quick snapshot of the gear Chris typical totes along—more if the location is easy to get to, less if the location requires a hike in.

Strobe Lights

• Vivitar 283 + Lens/Filter Adaptor
• Vivitar 285HV with built-in filter slide
• Canon 580EX II (not pictured) + plastic gel holder from Gelholder.com

Flashlights

• Color Shine Multi-Color LED Light
• Mini Maglite
• Million Candlepower Spotlight, aka: Deer Spotter (not pictured) – used for focusing the camera lens on structure
• Mini CREE Q5 LED light – replaced the bulky, heavy, cumbersome Million for focusing; also used with gel-covered PVC pipe for color-lighting interiors

Color

• Rosco Stage/Theatre Gels
• Vivitar Color Wide Filters
• Life+Gear Colored LED Glowsticks – handy for placing into small or tight spots like cars
• 1” PVC caps with circular-cut gels glued to the top – fits over CREE flashlight

Most of this fits nicely inside a small bag, but the Vivitars can be a little bulky, so sometimes Chris won’t even bring those along, especially for smaller spaces that can easily be painted with compact flashlights. Larger jobs, like the Painted Desert Trading Post—which we’re stoked to tell you about in the final installment—require all hands on deck. You don’t want to forget anything at home when you’re making a three-mile trek into the desert by foot!

In terms of light-painting techniques, the sky’s the limit! Popping a Vivitar strobe at the wall and ceiling inside of a space is a quick and easy way to get the job done. But with nearly blinding flashes in complete darkness, it’s a little tricky to see exactly what you’re doing and where you’re going. So remember to explore your space before stepping inside! Even in a small space like this electric car, I looked for missing floors and found a bunch of owl poo! No big deal, but nice to be aware of what I was sitting in to avoid being seen by the camera.

Secondly, you really don’t have as much control with a Vivitar and you may find yourself running back and forth from your camera preview screen to the subject-matter fixing your “mistakes.” Using simple flashlights to literally paint the interiors may not project as bright of a color in a short amount of time, but you have far more control and can see where you’re stepping.

Meanwhile you also have a powerful moon to worry about. If it’s completely full with no smog or clouds, it’ll cook that image in no time. So you might not have the luxury of painting away inside for minutes on end. If the moon is low in the sky, waning or a thick cloud cover has entered the scene, you’ll have that shutter open for much longer with a lot more time to spend inside.

It’s all about experimentation and your sense of style and creativity. Awhile back, Noel Kerns was interviewed by Photogrill.com about his gear and his technique, but also the importance he places on the “pre-vision” especially when working indoors with no moon and no ambient light to speak of. When it’s pitch black, you better know exactly what you’re about to try to accomplish! Likewise, for a super detailed and in-depth look at techniques and tips, check out Troy Paiva’s 81-page digital book Light Painted Night Photography: The Lost America Technique. OR if you’re really in it to win it, take his Night Photography Workshop!

To tell you light-painting and night photography is an adventure doesn’t do it justice. Yesterday I mentioned how thrilling it was the first time I joined Chris and it was just a simple vintage rail car in a train yard right near my apartment. Technically we weren’t supposed to be there and it wasn’t necessarily the safest place in town, so that made it exciting, but Chris has dealt with much scarier experiences…like his run-in with the angry, gun-toting, drunken owner of an abandoned farmhouse, for example. But our experiences are usually riveting in a much more positive sense. One late Saturday night a couple months ago, we explored and light-painted the guts of a Milwaukee icon–the Sydney Hih building, along with the famous Unicorn club. Long abandoned, Sydney Hih’s death is officially upon us because as of today it is being demolished gigantic chunk by gigantic chunk. It was thrilling to explore such a grand space, but also amazing to see a piece of history that will disappear off the face of the earth completely in a few days.

Still standing after half of a century, however, about 1500 miles away from us is a simple and yet beautiful little building sitting comfortably in vast desert. Join us tomorrow when we tell you about one of our most memorable excursions to date.

Please visit our Prints page as many of Chris’s photographs in this series are available for purchase!

< Back to Part One Forward to Part Three >

Last summer, during our very first art fair (when Fading Nostalgia was but a mere twinkle in our eye), we realized while showing Chris’s night photography, we were going to have to explain how exactly the colored lights glow inside these abandoned houses, structures and cars. Obvious, but Chris has been doing this for so long, perhaps he took his knowledge of the seemingly magical secret for granted.

As patrons glanced over Chris’s work, one of us would interject: “So what you see here isn’t Photoshop….we actually go inside with colored flashlights….” We continued on to describe the equipment, mention the full moon, discuss the long exposure and point out the star trails. We watched intently as the wheels turned inside their minds. Witnessing the moment each person arrived at his or her own “ah ha! moment” never got old. I don’t have children, but I can only assume it is similar to when parents explain some simple scientific happening to their kid and see his or her face light up with understanding. Interestingly enough, I’d say about 85% of these passers-by assumed it was indeed Photoshop or some kind of computer manipulation. And a lot of them would admit they were glad we informed them it wasn’t. So when this summer’s first art fair rolled around (Madison’s Art Fair on the Square), Chris and I printed out and posted a little sign with a short explanation:

No Photoshop! [What is Light-Painting?]

First and foremost, the blasts of colored light you see inside these buildings, cars and enclosed spaces are not Photoshopped or enhanced by any type of computer program. I physically paint with color and light using flash lights, strobe flashes and colored stage gels. Using the glow of the full moon for an external light source, I venture inside these abandoned spaces with my colored lights. As my camera shutter remains open from anywhere between 30 seconds to several minutes, I pop strobe lights toward ceilings or wield flashlights like a paintbrush across walls to get the desired effect.

Of course, not everyone wants to read a lengthy explanation, so as patrons perused, we continued to interject: “So what you see here isn’t Photoshop….we actually go inside with colored flashlights….”

So at the Midsummer Festival of the Arts in Sheboygan the following weekend, we decided to make smaller, more simplistic signs to post strategically throughout the booth:

More people caught these signs. We would watch carefully as they pointed to the words and audibly question, “Wait no Photoshop??” then proceed to glance around to find one of us to ask how we do it.

Meanwhile, it dawned on me that the entire near-year FadingNostalgia.com has existed, we never truly explain the process to those who stumble upon this website! So 85% of our visitors could think it’s all computer trickery! That is just no good. So with that said, welcome to the first in a three-part series that will speak to the history of night photography, the light-painting process and equipment photographers use, as well as an in-depth look at one of our most memorable light-painting experiences.

So, now that you’ve read the little synopsis we’ve provided to our art fair patrons, you know the basics: Full moon, colored flashlights, long exposure. Here are a handful of fun facts about the history of night photography and light-painting:

• The history of night photography goes back nearly to the advent of photography itself! But it wasn’t until the 1880s, with the invention of the gelatin dry plate negative (formerly a wet process, limiting exposure time), that photographers were able to develop longer exposures. In the 1890s–over 110 years ago–Alfred Stieglitz began to capture and develop New York City night-scapes through long exposures.

Reflections, Night, New York, | Alfred Stieglitz, 1896

• The availability of electricity gave way to the invention of larger lighting contraptions. Many years after flood-lighting became standard in the movie industry, O. Winston Link ran with this idea in the 1950s in order to create his own unique photographs. Link would set up several of these flood-lights to flash at steam engines passing through various landscapes under the heavy cloak of night. Complex productions to say the least, Link popularized this type of night photography and light-painting using simple and even cozy settings and imagery.

Hotshot Eastbound, Ieager, West Virginia | O. Winston Link, 1956

• In 1949, Life Magazine photographer Gjon Mili captured a series of graffiti-style light-painting photographs of Pablo Picasso, all inspired by images Mili showed Picasso of ice figure skaters twirling and leaping in the dark with small lights on their skates. Over the past half century artist/photographers like Eric Staller, Michael Bosanko and Evan Sharboneau aka Photo Extremist take this type of light-painting to a whole new level.

Gjon Mili capturing Pablo Picasso | Life Magazine, 1949

• Throughout the mid-to-late century, photographers everywhere began to capture landscapes at night: the glow of city life, the long paths of car head- and tail-lights along the highway, the arched trails of stars as the earth moved along its axis. In the ’70s, Richard Misrach captured the haunting and barren landscapes of the desert night, complete with star trails. Interestingly enough, one of his more recent night photos is currently one of the world’s most viewed photos.

Untitled | Richard Misrach, circa 1975

• In the late ’80s, Troy Paiva–aka Lost America–combined his passion for night photography and exploration of the deserted American southwest to pioneer the light-painting technique Chris uses today. With a simple colored flashlight and a long exposure, Troy not only put a new surrealistic spin on a classic photographic genre, but spearheaded a new movement that made professionals and amateurs alike look at abandonment in a way that is both unique and even emotionally engaging. Believe it or not, Troy started light-painting with a film camera. In other words, no checking of any LED display to make sure you got the right shot. It’s do-or-die and you might just come home with a bunch of black photos if you don’t fully grasp the importance of film reciprocity, timing, light intensity and light physics! It’s hard to fathom, but if there’s one way to learn how to light-paint, analog seems pretty tops.

Diesel Number 5 – Schurz, Nevada & Far From Wolfsburg – Searchlight, Nevada | Lost America, 2010

• In the following decades, the movement picked up steam and several photographers would begin to hone their skills as light-painters, including Noel Kerns who began to experiment in ghost towns throughout his home state of Texas and branching out to locations all over the country, from the historic Lee Plaza in Detroit to the famous Four Aces Movie Set in LA, adding the technique to enhance his love for capturing landscapes.

Diner – Four Aces Movie Set, Los Angeles, California | Noel Kerns, 2011

Meanwhile, Chris began to experiment with this technique himself several years ago. He learned from one of the best and even met with Noel in Gary, IN, and Detroit, MI, to delve into more urban subject matter.

On the flipside of his desert-colleagues down south, Chris’s favorite subject-matter incorporates what the northern midwest is best known for: cold and snow. While Wisconsin summers are relatively comfortable at night, temperature-wise, the air is often thick with moisture. Wisconsin winters, on the other hand, are frigid but crisp. Skies are their bluest blue and stars are breathtaking points of light, especially outside of the city. Likewise, summers coat and bury ideal subjects like vehicles deep into pastures, while the death of flora in the winters unveils the landscape’s secrets. Trust me, it’s a little tough to sport four layers of clothes and bear the sub-zero temps–especially at midnight–when a cozy, warm couch is the alternative, but it’s definitely worth the effort.

Winter Home | Christopher Robleski, 2010

Starlight Gas | Christopher Robleski, 2011

I should say, with Chris’s help on a lot of the how-to details, I’ve written this three-part piece from my perspective as a light-painting/night photography newcomer. Upon meeting Chris just over three years ago, I had absolutely no idea what light-painting was or honestly that it even existed. Chris, aka “Chocolate-Milk,” sent me a link to his Flickr photostream and I was enamored with the unique style immediately. The places he would light up were indeed abandoned, but Chris made them warm and inviting again. The reaction I had to his work doesn’t even compare to the thrill I felt the first time I went out to light-paint with Chris. Just weeks after meeting this former stranger, I agreed to an invitation that went a little something like “…there’s always a good, late night run into some creepy building. You can give a hand lighting it up. It’s a lot of fun.” Maybe I was a little nuts for taking him up the offer? But the next thing I know, I’m spending my nights traipsing through a train yard to light up a vintage passenger car, climbing inside an excavator in a run-down part of town and staying out til 2am on a ‘school night’ to drive out to an abandoned street car buried in the middle of a farm field.

Night Train | Christopher Robleski, 2009

Chris never let me by a casual bystander either. I was right there in the trenches, so to speak. And as I started talking about the adventures to my friends and family, soon others who had never heard of going out late at night during a full moon to climb around inside abandoned buildings with colored flashlights found it just as intriguing as I did.

So that gives you an idea of the What’s and the Why’s behind light-painting. In Part Two of this series, we will tackle the How. Until then, please check out the following sites showcasing the work of the aforementioned light-painting trailblazers!

The Early Years

For more information on the birth of night photography, The Nocturnes Resource has a great synopsis.

O. Winston Link: O. Winston Link Museum, Roanoke, VA

Troy Paiva: www.lostamerica.com

Additionally, for a pretty awesome glimpse at his actual film work (aka: NOT digital; aka: one-shot-is-all-you-get) from prior to 2005, check out Troy’s Flickr Set.

Noel Kerns: www.noelkernsphotography.com

Noel is pouring tons of work into publishing his efforts in a book entitled Nightwatch, due to be released soon.

Please visit our Prints page as many of Chris’s photographs in this series are available for purchase!

< Back to Part 3 Forward to Part 2 >

Analog’s Pulse

It’s been pretty quiet on the Fading Nostalgia front, we admit. Getting back into the day-job life after our Route 66 trip was hectic to say the least. But this weekend, we’re taking yet another break from the daily routine. We’re re-packing our bags and heading east to Cleveland, OH, for a [first annual] photography festival/workshop, Analog’s Pulse.

In a nutshell: bring your “analog” cameras…your Holgas, your Polaroids, your SLRs and your 35mm…anything that requires hand-loading real live film, hit the streets of Cleveland, take boat loads of photos, have a blast. Sounds like our kinda party right?? Right! While we’ve both been to Cleveland, we have not yet visited the workshop’s sponsor Aperture Photography & Variety Store located in the Tremont neighborhood, which ALSO just so happens to carry our book. From the looks of photos though, it might be a little slice heaven.

The event is also sponsored also by A&A Studios out of Chicago, the kind photography-lovers at Film Photography Project and Old School Photo Lab out of New Hampshire. So between sponsors and attendees, we’ll be among friends most definitely.

So hop back on the Fading Nostalgia bus and follow along as we get down with old school photo geekness.

McLean, TX to Lebanon, MO to Milwaukee, WI

We stopped inside the Cactus Inn office the next morning to drop off the key and thoroughly enjoyed chatting again with Peggy for a little while! Just like old friends, we traded stories about travels, family and just life in general. She told us about how she and her husband love to head off to the free-spirited Taos in northern New Mexico. Now Chris and I just have to go since it sounds like quite the magical place!! We also had the pleasure of meeting Peggy’s beyond adorable chihuahua Molly!! Tiny little girl with a huge heart…you basically want to put both Molly AND Peggy in your pocket and take them home with you. Chris and I have commented many times throughout the trip back to Milwaukee how we miss the two of them! Hopefully we’ll travel through McLean again soon as it has now become a must-stop on our every-increasing must-stop list.

And we were off once again! This time we had quite the journey ahead of us in order to make it to Lebanon at a reasonable hour. But it’s so tough NOT to stop! There were so many places we wanted to see like the super long Pony Bridge near Bridgeport/Hydro Oklahoma, which we couldn’t even photograph due to a parked SUV. We soon discovered that it was a Sheriff spying with binoculars on some kids four-wheeling down below.

And we HAD to stop at the Shoe Tree near Stroud/Depew…turns out it had fallen down since we last stopped! All that was left was the hand-painted sign and a jagged stump. Super sad!! Luckily people started a couple new Shoe Trees near by.

In Sapulpa, we made a point to find the remnants of the TeePee Drive In and as we pulled into the gated driveway, a truck pulled up. It turned out to be Keith, one of the many people cleaning up TeePee so it can be opened up this summer! He asked if we wanted to explore the grounds and obviously we took him up on it.

We chatted awhile about the efforts people are making…he was so sweet and excited to be there to help. We’ll be sure to expand on this story in the coming weeks as developments progress, but to read more about what volunteers have done so far, please read Ron Warnick’s story on Route 66 News.

And yet another section of 66 we’ve never visited is the pre-1937 section of road near Miami and Narcissa, OK, which is only 9 feet wide. So silly to us now, but definitely classic 66!

At this point the sun was indeed setting and we were so close, yet so far from the Kansas stretch of Route 66. We couldn’t believe we were going to miss it yet again!!! We stopped at Waylan’s Ku-Ku Burger for a late dinner and to mull over the decision to stay in Miami for the night in order to see Kansas or plugging on to stay at the Munger Moss Motel in Lebanon, MO as originally planned.

While “it’s about the journey not the destination” swirled around in my mind, an 11+ hour drive home from Miami on the last day of our trip would force us to just speed through the interstate—no stops. So we wouldn’t be able to enjoy Kansas anyway. With heavy hearts we finished our cheeseburgers and headed on into the night (making a call to Ramona at the Munger Moss to warn her of our late arrival, of course!)

The following morning we woke refreshed and indeed relieved that we did NOT have an 11 hour day ahead of us…that we’d be able to drive home somewhat leisurely. We pinkie swear the entire southeastern corner of Kansas that we will be back! Polaroid photos WILL happen and it won’t be dusk when we roll through.

We chatted with Ramona awhile apologized for being so late and thanked her for being so accommodating. She told us she’s used to it and was simply happy we wanted so badly to stay there! After a round of awesome hugs and goodbyes, we headed out for some Waffle House breakfast to avoid an insane thunderstorm that rolled through southern Missouri. We took 66 home for awhile before hopping on the Interstate.

Amongst our stretch stops, we grabbed some pie at the Palms Grill Cafe in Atlanta, IL (two stops in one trip, how lucky are we?!)

This would be our last Route 66 venture before veering up on I-39 to take the “fast and cheap” way home (only one toll).

Sigh.

And so ends our June Book Tour by name, but Adventure of a Lifetime by spirit.

To all of the people we met: You gave life to our long road traveled (nearly 2600 miles!) It may just be a series of interconnected streets, but without its 86 years of travelers and caretakers, Route 66 is just a highway with a cool name. We can’t wait to see you again one day!

To all of the people who followed along via the blog, twitter and/or facebook: Many, many thank you’s!! Obviously a road trip never needs an “audience” but having one means that the stories of 66 aren’t going unnoticed. The more we share, the more likely someone out there will be inspired to take a trip of their own. Seeing the history, selling some books and picking up some cool souvies are all just gravy. Inspiring someone else the way we have been inspired is our biggest goal of all, and we honestly consider ourselves pretty lucky people to have this kind of opportunity!

So with that said, it’s been a pleasure actually following through with this (sort of) daily updated blog of the trip! (While avoiding chains like Mickey D’s and Bucks was predominantly part of the plan, using their free wifi was admittedly pretty stellar.)

And that’s all she wrote………Until next time!

< Back to Day 8

Forward to Day 1 >

Tucumcari, NM to McLean, TX

After cookout fun with the Tucumcari natives (both real and honorary) the night before, Chris and I headed for some night photography fun out west in Cuervo and Newkirk, NM…a couple of ghost-ish desert towns, the former hanging on by a thread by way of giant sign advertising a website for Cuervo land for sale and the latter by way of a still functioning gas station that may or may not have served as a meet-up for illegal behavior that night. Unfortunately it was far to windy and the moon was far too waned for a proper night’s work. Despite Chris’ solid tripod, you could still see the shakiness of the star trails (exacerbated by the length of which the shutter remained open due to the slightly-fuller-than-quarter moon). But it was another great time per usual!

The following morning we set up shop at the TCC once again for another few hours of book-signing fun. The highlight was chatting with town residents Skylar Kaye and Tucumcari Rosie about Fading Nostalgia and the whole Route 66 spirit. It was definitely an inspiration for us both! We chatted with the other authors too and got a photo of them with Chris before we said our Tucumcari goodbyes. It’s really difficult to thank Blue Swallow owners Kevin and Nancy enough for all their hospitality and generosity this past weekend. Their kind and sweet midwestern spirit is perfect for this iconic little southwestern town. We truly can’t say enough about what a gem the Blue Swallow, even outside of all its history. Kevin and Nancy have breathed new life into the motel, both physically in the restorations they’ve undertaken, as well as spiritually in the warmth they extend to everyone who stops by. So McLean, TX would be the next town we called home for the night and in Interstate Time, it was only three hours away, so in Route 66 Time, well we had plenty of time to get there. And plenty of time did we take!!

One part of the Route neither of us had ever taken, shockingly enough, is the epic stretch of dirt and gravel that takes you from around San Jon, NM into just outside of Glenrio at the Texas border. Forgotten buildings and towns (Endee, Bard…) sit along Old 66 here. It truly is one of the more remote and beautiful sections of the road just because you feel transported to the days of old, before asphalt and concrete, before semi-trucks and cars riding your bumper to go faster. We took our time and hopped in and out of the car every so often to take it all in (even despite the fact that the temp outside was about 104…dry heat though, ha!)

We also drove through another virgin-to-us location, the ghost-ish town of Jericho, TX.

And finally, before heading into McLean, we stopped back at the Conway Bug Ranch as Chris had made quite the discovery when we popped in on our way west: the now-defunct trading post/gift shop was still stocked with a bunch of old stickers. This I had to see.

Sure enough, boxes and boxes of bizarre bawdy, jokey and state stickers lined shelves of this demolished storefront. There wasn’t much else left there aside from piles of guest check “ticket” pads, a lazy-boy recliner and a golf bag.

It was really sad actually…Chris said he swore this place was up and running several years ago when he came through…so it makes you wonder: what happened exactly? How could someone leave a place in such disarray? The only answers that seemed to fit were sad ones. I’m sure lots of people who have come through the abandoned Bug Ranch Longhorn Trading Post gift shop have taken more than just a photo or two. But if those lonely stickers find love from some 66er or road-tripper, I think that’s a heck of a lot better than collecting dust on some deserted shelf.

We reached McLean not a moment too soon! The famous Red River Steakhouse was going to close in less than an hour. We checked into the Cactus Inn next door first and spoke with the lovely, the gregarious, the adorable Peggy…sweeter and more refreshing than a glass of iced peach tea on a hot day. We traded a few stories and it was like we had known each other for years in a matter of moments.

We saddled up to get our steak on next door. I think we’ve both eaten more beef on this trip than we have in the past year!! Again, when in Rome, I say.

After dinner, we took a drive around McLean. We saw this little market called Wildflower, which looked like it would’ve been the perfect place to get a quick breakfast the following morning, but it would be Sunday unfortunately. We also stumbled upon a tail-less gray cat who reminded us of our big gray cat Smokey.

When we got back, Chris turned on the Stanley Cup Finals and we settled nicely into our room for the night.

< Back to Day 7

Forward to Day 9 & 10 >