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- Joined: Wed Jan 20, 2010 2:02 pm
Because driving in Los Angeles can be dicey; you never know how long you’ll be stuck in traffic, my wife, Gwynne, and I didn’t know when we would reach the end of Route 66; we just knew this would be our last day. We had a pleasant stop at the Cucamonga Station to get our Route 66 passport stamped. It was obviously newly renovated, and the two owners were happily working the desk. They had a hand-painted Route 66 map behind them with icons of the most notable stops. “Can you think of anything we missed?” one of the guys asked me. I studied it for a moment; yeah, I thought, almost everything, but looking at his big smile, I said, “Nope; looks like you got ‘em.”
The actual end of Route 66 is marked by a nondescript sign on the Santa Monica pier. Lots of people were standing in line to get their pictures taken underneath it but obviously none of them had just finished the trek like we had. I felt like a member of an elite group. In fact, we don’t know anyone else who has driven actually driven the whole thing. There was a small kiosk that provided a certificate of completion which my wife, Gwynne, and I will frame and hang in our bedroom with our other certificates.
All told, we ended up driving a total of 7318 miles, 2949 of which while we were doing Route 66, which is officially 2448 miles long. We also visited 7 State capitols, 7 National Parks, and 8 Muffler Men. Gwynne’s brand new car has been thoroughly broken in: dirty both inside and outside, fender battered by a blown tire, and its Service light on. She’s kind of bummed out but Route 66 was worth it.
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