Paula got up early today and called Grandpop in Florida to wish him a happy NINETY-FIRST birthday! He’d already had his coffee and was heading to his woodworking shop in the garage to continue his projects.
Paula drove from Santa Rosa, New Mexico to just beyond Amarillo, Texas and tolerated well some hilly ascents and descents and curves at the wheel. The scenery changed from scrubland and hills to valley farmlands with deciduous trees and grass.
We had a quick lunch and resumed our day’s drive, now with Tommy driving, to Clinton, Oklahoma. It’s a town of about 10,000 souls. It’s the home of the National Route 66 Museum and The Cheyenne Cultural Center, both of which were regrettably closed due to Labor Day Weekend.
We stopped along a street of pretty shops, well-maintained flowers (despite the heat- 102°F) and a rustic coffee shop. All likewise closed, but we walked the street anyway, stretching our legs and hearing only the wind and occasional birdsong. We’ve gone through other small towns before on Sundays and holidays and experienced the same deserted, slightly spooky feel.
As in Santa Rosa, the town seems very proud of its connection with Route 66, as can be seen by the design in the center of the street in the featured picture for this post. Yesterday we laughed about “Grandma’s Fitness” center, only to find “Nana’s Antiques and Gifts” today in Clinton. We were also happy to hear that Elvis is alive and kicking!
As many dinner places were closed, we were especially gratified to see that Lucille’s Roadhouse was open. At first, we were confused, as we remembered eating at Lucille’s in 2021, but not in this locale. After closely inspecting the building and decor, which is all in tribute to Route 66, and consulting the map, we realized that indeed, there were two Lucille’s in Oklahoma. We had great steaks, sauteed mushrooms, mac & cheese (for Tommy) and shared a portion of their brownie Sunday. Very delicious and very reasonable.
While eating, we looked up the blog post from 2021 and found that Paula had been pictured in front of one of the gas pumps outside of a different Lucille’s and was wearing the same shirt as she is today! Of course, we had to make a recreation of the same photo as best we could.
As we pulled into the parking lot of our hotel, a loud chorus of cicadas “Zzzzed” from the dense trees lining the street. We haven’t heard that sound since last we were on the East coast. Sounded like home.