Physically I am at the office savoring some split pea soup. Mentally I am out on Route 66 or one of the thousands of lost highways that fill my memories.
Part of this wistful day dreaming of road trips stems from thoughts of the fall foliage that would be so dominate about now in the Ozarks and the fact that our plans were to be there to enjoy it. Alas, work and the desire to continue eating on a regular basis have again taken precedence over the wants.
There is another aspect of this aborted adventure that sparks these thoughts and that weighs heavily on the mind. It was to be a key component in the research for the current book project, Ghost Towns of Route 66.
As it stands bow this trip will now need to be rescheduled for early spring. This puts us very close to the May 1 deadline and as we will be seeking some older alignments spring rains equal mud which in turn equals possible trouble even with the Jeep.
Even though I want to get the feel and absorb the atmosphere of the old alignments as well as the forgotten islands of civilization that once lined them, my plans do not include pretending its 1928 as I dig the truck from the gumbo at Jericho Gap in Texas. Nor do I have interest in experiencing an early spring blizzard some where between Endee and San Jon in New Mexico or fording normally dry creek beds turned to rivers.
Adding to the amplified sound of the clocks ticking are the response, or lack of response, received from the various museums and Route 66 Associations petitioned for assistance. Granted it has only been two weeks since these requests were sent but out of thirty letters I had hoped to have more than three answers.
I intend to begin writing the text New Years weekend. Here is to hoping I have the lions share of the research material by that time.
