The muddled title for this post is an apt descriptor for the past couple of days. It also provides an excuse for the lack of regular posts.
Last Friday, I received the first draft of Ghost Towns of Route 66 attached with a request to complete the final edit by Friday, the 24th of September. Meanwhile, as per contract, the first section of the Route 66 Encyclopedia and Atlas needs to be submitted for review by September 30th.
My primary concern with the encyclopedia is in regards to illustrations. This is the first time I will be supplying all illustrations as well as text and as a result will also need to submit an array of photos to ensure they meet editorial requirements.
The historic images are not an issue. Russell Olsen, author of Route 66 Lost and Found, and Laurel Kane of Afton Station have graciously offered assistance and use of their collections. Additionally, Joe Sonderman has offered full access to his stunning collection and I have a few choice pieces of my own.
Joe has an excellent website, see the above link, and has used his wonderful collection to create a series of books for Arcadia Press. Anyone with the faintest interest in Route 66 history or the history of America’s societal evolution as seen through the development of roadside culture would do themselves a favor in acquiring his books.
His books are available through Amazon or his website. However, as the author profits best from direct orders …
As if the pressure of these impending deadlines were not enough, the day job that pays the bills and that supports the writing habit has taken a turn that necessitates a temporary return to a six day work schedule and my mothers recent injury has resulted in additional demands that consume an hour or two every day. Then there are the promotional efforts and public appearances that go hand in glove with writing.
First, the series on ghost towns taped for KNAU began airing this week. If your curious as to what a Jim Hinckley sounds like you can listen here. There will also be a one hour call in show on Thursday evening at 6:00 that I will participate in via telephone link.
On Monday, I will again be a guest on AM Arizona filmed live in Prescott. How to pull this off as we are short handed at the office remains a mystery but one thing is certain, our long anticipated trip to Crown King is again canceled.
Yesterday an arrangement was concluded with the owner of the Lile Gallery at Sunset Galleries in Amarillo that makes them the sole retailer for our photographic prints, the limited edition series as well as basic prints. This lays the foundation for a new series of limited edition prints, Ghost Towns of Route 66, that will accompany the release of the book at the festival next year in Amarillo.

The Hill Top in Kingman with a rare dusting of snow.

There are only a few copies of the limited edition Gilcee prints in the Icons of Route 66 and Ghost Towns of the Southwest series still available. Initially the idea was to limit the number of prints to 100 but on the advice of a gallery consultant, and as a result of the cost involved with their production, we decided to produce only twelve of each.
In the Route 66 series two prints remain. The Ghost Towns of the Southwest series has only three left.
The most popular for international collectors has been this scene of the Hilltop Motel dusted in snow. The matted and signed print is free of the copyright note that appears here. The cost is $125.00 plus shipping and handling.

Chloride cabin

In the Ghost Towns of the Southwest series the subject was Chloride, Arizona. The last print available is this view of an old cabin counted among the last surviving remnants from better times in this once thriving mining town. 
This is also a Gilcee process print. It is matted, numbered, and signed. 
As we are deep into the self promotion, this might be a good time to mention we are also now offering stock photos for limited use in publications including calendars, magazines, or books. Site specific requests are also being accepted.
Our regular prints will retail for $25.00 plus shipping and handling. This are quality prints suitable for framing. They are signed but not matted.
To order prints contact the Lile Gallery through the above link. You may also send the request directly to me and I will forward it to the gallery.

Print 1001 – Route 66 looking toward the Hualapai Mountains

There will be two topics in the $25.00 series, the American southwest and Route 66. These will be in an 11 x 14 size. Here is an example.
In a more perfect world I would have the entire portfolio of available prints on the website, Route 66 Info Center. As I have the cart before the horse that will most likely have to wait for a day or two.
As a final note of the morning I would to share a bit of inspiration in regards to breathing life into a communities historic center. For more than a half century urban sprawl and suburbia have been front and center leaving the vital hearts of communities to wither on the vine.
In recent years there is a growing trend toward reversal with a wide array of benefits. As many communities, including Kingman, are currently grappling with these issues I found this article about Henderson, Nevada, the forgotten and often overlooked neighbor of Las vegas, interesting.



As we started our summer with an amazing adventure on the legendary double six it seemed rather appropriate to end it at Chillin on Beale Street with the theme of wheels on Route 66 and the debut of the exciting new book, Greetings From Route 66 There were cars, music, crowds, friends, and a celebrity of two such as Bob “Boze” Bell, a former Kingman resident who has gone on to bigger and better things such as acclaim as an artist and managing editor at True West magazine.
As this was also the weekend for the Mohave County Fair and a major car show on Saturday afternoon, I was quite surprised to find the event was the largest to date with cars on display filling almost three blocks and a steady stream of vehicles cruising in both directions. Garishly painted street rods and the creative manifestations of vivid imaginations in the form of rat rods dominated the evening but scattered amongst these were a wide array of vintage iron, modern classics, and even representatives from foreign manufacturers such as MG and Triumph.
Bob Bell presented Jim and Gail Nichols of Colorado with a pre release copy of Greetings from Route 66 signed by Russell Olsen author of Route 66 Lost and Found, Jim Hinckley, as the grand finale. For the grand prize winners it was the end to a perfect evening.
They had planned a vacation along Route 66 with a stop in Las Vegas. However, after reading about the event on the Destination Kingman page on Facebook, they adjusted their plans so they could be in Kingman on Saturday night.
It would seem Destination Kingman is a very apt descriptor. Last month a family from Holland planned their journey along Route 66 to coincide with the Chillin on Beale Street festivities.
Regardless of the theme, the prizes, or celebrity appearance, it is always the cars that are at center stage and this edition of Chillin on Beale Street was no exception. There were more than a few vehicles that snagged my undivided attention but there was one in particular that I would have loved to take home – a bone stock, vintage Dodge coupe that was obviously not a trailer queen.

This vintage Dodge coupe is a bone stock, daily driven

With its dings, dents, and faded paint it was not a show inner. However, it was enjoyed by the owner and garnered a great deal of attention, not an easy task in a sea of street rods and antiques with flawless paint jobs.
As the sun sank into the west and the shadows lengthened, the crowds filled the streets and the cruising began in earnest. A small herd of Model T Fords followed a string of late model T-Bird coupes and convertibles.
In the opposite direction flowed vintage pick up trucks and jacked up off roaders. Motorcycles with their thunderous exhaust filled the gaps.

Shades of American Graffiti

After dark it was time for a parade of lights. Tuner cars with their neon tubes and vintage street rods with blue dot lenses, antiques with their dim, magneto lit lights and even Christmas lights on a vintage Chevy.
What a fantastic way to close out a fantastic summer on legendary Route 66!



I have no explanation and offer no excuse for my fascination for the road less traveled that often leads to very empty places. A stretch of broken asphalt or rutted, rocky trail that ties the distant past with the present has an allure that quickens the spirit and unleashes the imagination.

The truncated Stone Hotel dating to the 1870s,
and the Daggett Garage that met the needs
of travelers on the National Old Trails Highway
as well as Route 66, still cast their shadow
on America’s most famous highway in

Those who seek the charms, the secret places, and the forlorn ruins scattered from Chicago to Santa Monica along Route 66 understand this sense of being suspended between the “here” and the “then”. They will also understand the addictive, simple pleasures found in a slice of fresh apple pie at a cafe unchanged in a half century or buying a cold drink on a hot summers day in a store that has served the needs of a faded community for more than one hundred years that enhance that sense of timelessness.
A life spent along the road less traveled, or even an occasional visit, is not for everyone or the faint of heart. For those unable to sever the moorings of the modern era, that are not comfortable in spending time alone with their thoughts, or that are unnerved by not having a schedule or reservation that dictates where the day will end these places are unsettling, desolate, and sterile.
Long ago, I learned to find solace in the silence of once busy streets where dust now swirls and reassurance in the faint whispers from the past carried on desert winds along former highways of commerce. It is in places so quiet I can hear the beating of my heart or the flutter of a sparrows wing that there is balm for a soul bruised and battered by the daily battles of life.
My most recent excursion was, as is most always the case, a rather enjoyable one. Even amongst the clamor, din, brown skies, and frantic pace of the L.A. basin I found beauty as well as things to pique the interest. I also found renewed elation for those quiet places when we turned the Jeep onto the quiet streets of Daggett.
My quest for the empty places often leaves me wondering if I would have liked Route 66 very much during its glory days of the 1950s. Would I would have been one of the eccentrics that avoided the glitzy neon of the modern auto court and sought the dimly lit, tarnished gems that were old hotels during this period?
Would I have been trying to cross the Mojave Desert on the rutted traces of the National Old Trails Highway to avoid the traffic that snaked across the desert while complaining that the towering new “Roy’s” sign in Amboy destroyed the character of the place?
I live in the modern with its endless gadgetry and am thankful for air conditioning when crossing the deserts but my heart is in another time, an era suspended between the harsh world of the Great Depression and that time when we became fearful of travel without guidance of GPS or those empty places where there is no service available for the cell phone. I live in a unique time when the non generic world of the past is a highly sought after commodity provided there is Wifi available. These are truly interesting times.
Now, before I descend to deeply into meditative thoughts inspired by the recent adventure across the Mojave Desert it might be best to remind you that this will be a very busy, very historic time in Kingman. We have the county fair and Chillin on Beale Street with the debut of the new book, Greetings from Route 66, two events that will ensure a weekend of fun for the entire family.



I have a riddle for you. What do you call a weekend that includes an emergency and an elderly parent, an eight hundred mile drive, visits with the author Russell Olsen, the charismatic and inspirational Dan Rice on Santa Monica Pier, and Jay Leno, two book signings, the discovery of a delightful secret hideaway in the mountains near the L.A. basin, ghost towns in the Mojave Desert, and an emergency at the office that results in the cancellation of a scheduled day off that in turn results in the cancellation of appointments and the possible delay of meeting a deadline? Well, I don’t know what you call it but in my world its simply situation normal.

Santa Monica Pier, our west coast destination.

As is often the case the trip to California started simple enough; setting a date, moving the date to coordinate schedules, and then the making of arrangements. These issues were mostly resolved by the first of last week leaving only eager anticipation of an adventure to the land of sun, fun, and epic scale traffic congestion with a good friend, Chris Durkin, and my son.
The first bump in the road came on Monday evening. My mother’s accident the previous Friday resulted in complications that required moving her from the hospital into a therapy center which interprets into miles of paper work and a conflicting array of arrangements. All of this was complicated by the stubbornness that has enabled mother to make it to 84 years of age.
A full work schedule necessitated all these details be handled in the evening or during lunch. An additional restriction on time available were the plans my dearest friend and I had made for the celebration of our 27Th anniversary.
Friday evening was a very welcome respite to the very long and harried week. My dearest friend had prepared a wonderful dinner and for desert we sat on the porch under a desert sky and reflected on an amazing 27 years. Then for the final act of the day the Jeep was loaded for the impending journey.
On Saturday morning at 4:00 the three musketeers (Chris, my son, and I) set out on the long anticipated adventure by heading west on I40. Drowsy induced laughter set the stage for the morning as we rolled toward the raw looking Bristol Mountains tinged with the first rays of the morning sun. 
We refueled the Jeep and fortified ourselves with caffeine in Barstow and joined the herd headed south into the L.A. basin. Even though traffic was deemed “light” by the standards of those who drive through this mad house on a daily basis by the time the crest of the Cajon Pass was fading from view in the rear view mirror the pleasure of driving was replaced with grim determination and steely focus induced by the combat that is driving the freeways of southern California.

When was the last time you saw one of these
at your local book store?

Still, miraculously we arrived at Auto Books – Aero Books in Burbank unscathed and in stepping from the Jeep, and prying my fingers from the steering wheel, the tension was quickly replaced by eager anticipation. A visit to this store, recently relocated six blocks to the east of the original store, on Saturday morning is a mind numbing sensory overload for the automotive enthusiast.
A dizzying array of books and magazines, new and old, fresh pastries, great coffee, and an endless stream of vintage automobiles whose owners cruise in to visit with friends over treats, talk cars, or shop for books, can easily consume a full day. This Saturday was no exception.

A French twist to the Saturday morning in Burbank.

To have your vehicle stand out when the cars that stop and go throughout the morning include representatives from manufacturers such as Jaguar, Packard, Auburn, and Lamborghini is nothing short of amazing. This Saturday there were three notables; a 1962 Maserati, a 1930s Citroen, and a very, very rare Doble “steamer”. 
The catalyst for our visit to this little corner of automotive heaven was to meet with Russell Olsen, author of Route 66 Lost and Found, and discuss use of his images for the current project, a Route 66 encyclopedia, to purchase some books for research, and to sign a few books. I was also hoping that my short notice of the pending trip did not prevent Jay Leno from stopping by so we could further discuss an interview for his
All went according to plan and by noon we were back into combat mode on the freeway heading fro the next stop, a visit with Dan Rice on Santa Monica Pier. We followed the 405 south to Santa Monica Boulevard and then rolled west through ever thickening crowds under increasingly dark clouds. With the added trauma of finding a parking place behind us we walked through the solemn 9-11 display on the beach, and wove our way through the swarming crowds on the pier with its endless array of side shows featuring colorful and talented jugglers, dancers, musicians, and mimes.
The weather was in stark contrast to that of Burbank where it had been sunny and about eighty degrees. On the pier it was cloudy, breezy and the temperatures hovered in the 50s, a dramatic transition that had me silently thanking the good Lord for my wife’s preparations that included packing a sweater.

The amazing Doble, the car of the future
manufactured in the 1920s.

Unduanted, we found a great place for lunch, Rusty’s, with its sidewalk heaters and Plexiglas wind break, and savored a better than average meal with a price to match enhanced by camaraderie and the colorful parade that ebbed and flowed past our perch. Then the parade of humanity parade and a stream of vintage Ford muscle flowed past our table.
By the time the third Cobra rolled past our front row seat we had polished off the lunch and joined the herd headed for the spectacle of a stunning auto show on the pier.

A daily driven 1915 Ford.

In awe struck silence at the display of vintage horsepower we wandered amongst these thundering ponies and their stable mates. As at the book store in Burbank, having a vehicle stand out in a sea of vintage Mustangs, Panterras, Cobras, and Thunderbolts is no easy task but one lone owner, representing the Automobile Driving Museum in El Segundo, succeeded quiet nicely with his well worn, often driven 1915 Ford Model T!
After the slight detour through this time capsule of Ford muscle we sought out Dan Rice by weaving our way through the arcade and rides.

Any questions?

The passion Dan has for Route 66 and life in general is quickly becoming legendary on the old double six. I learned on our visit it is infectious as well as inspirational.
He has written a book about the amazing adventure that took him from pursuing a career and degree in physchology to a Route 66 kiosk on legendary Santa Monica Pier. It is with eager anticipation I await its release.

Dan Rice and Chris Durkin on Santa Monica Pier.

The time flew as we ignited the imagination with discussions about the future of Route 66, ways we can ensure it survives for a new generation, and tales of driving the legendary highway. It was with reluctance, after an almost three hour visit, that we bade farewell and headed for the Will Rogers monument in Palisades Park overlooking the pier, the beach, the colorful beach houses, and the somber 9-11 display.

The view from the park at the western terminus
of Route 66 is quite a fitting reward for those who
drive it from Chicago to Santa Monica.

To avoid breaking the bank I had made reservations for the evening in Hesperia, a drive of about 100 miles. I could feel the weariness of the long day settling into my bones as we left the pier and eased our way into the worst traffic I had yet encountered.
From Santa Monica to Burbank the traffic moved with the speed of molasses on a cold winters morning. Then from Burbank to the crest of Cajon Pass it was eight lanes of brake and nerve testing in a veritable sea of automobiles that spanned eight and six lanes of asphalt and concrete.
But, we survived and the Jeep carried no new battle scars. With dinner, a cold beer, and a comfortable bed, the day ended almost as it had began – under a starry desert sky with drowsy induced laughter.
On Sunday we set out on a voyage of discovery to meet with Kris and Hank Hallmark in Wrightwood. The food and conversation were wonderful but it was the discovery of this treasure amongst the pines that consumed my attention. What a delightful little gem!

The Green Spot Motel was once a hideaway for
the rich and famous.

If I were to have but one regret it would be that my dearest friend wasn’t there to share it with. Rest assured, I will rectify that quite soon!
From Wrightwood we rolled into Victorville, sought the tarnished glory of the historic Green Spot Motel, a former hideaway for the rich and famous of Hollywood, picked up Route 66, crossed the Mojave River on the picturesque 1930 steel truss bridge east of town, and then slipped past the ghosts that line the highway as silent sentinels guarding the secrets of the pregeneric age in Oro Grande. The destination on this leg of our adventure was the railroad museum and Route 66 Mother Road Museum in the lovingly refurbished Casa del Desierto, a former Harvey House, in Barstow.

For more than eighty years this bridge east
of Victorville has met the needs of travelers
on Route 66.

As always our visit was a delightful one. Debra Holden, our host and the passionate caretaker of this jewel in the desert, exemplifies the passion of those entrusted with keeping the memory of legendary Route 66 alive.
The long shadows hinted that the day was rapidly getting away from us and there were still miles of road ahead as well as sites to photograph. So, we bid adios to Debra, her husband, and the staff at the museum, drove into Barstow, and stocked up on the necessary supplies for a dinner somewhere in the desert along legendary 66.
This last stage of the adventure had a two fold purpose, in addition to simply savoring the last hours of a great weekend, playing tour guide for Chris’s first journey along this storied highway in California, and photographs for a forthcoming series of prints to accompany the release of Ghost Towns of Route 66 next spring.
With that as a simple goal we jumped from the present into the past at Daggett, stopped at the market that has met the needs of the community for the past century, and found us a quiet, shady place on the steps of the historic Daggett Garage for dinner. I should note that at this time a detour resultant of construction necessitates a drive through Daggett but this provides Route 66 travelers a peek into an often overlooked secret.

The Stone Hotel in Daggett has cast its truncated
shadow on Route 66 and the National Old Trails

I love driving this section of the old road with its ghosts set against backdrops of sun burnt and time twisted stone. Perhaps the only thing I enjoy more than driving this ribbon of broken asphalt is introducing the uninitiated to its charms. That just might be why I derive such pleasure from writing.
From Daggett to Amboy there are long stretches where the asphalt has been pummelled into gravel and grooved into a long series of ruts. Even with the Jeep it seemed best to cut the speed, ride the shoulder and dodge the various flotsam that has accumulated on the shoulder of a highway in use for almost a century

This sign has cast its shadow on the desert
sands in Amboy for more than a
half century.

  We cruised past the gawking tourists that swarmed on the Bagdad Cafe in Newberry Springs like ants on spilt honey and stopped to photograph the old Whiting Brothers station with is fast fading sign. There was a time when stations of this chain were a common site throughout the southwest but now only one remains in operation in Moriarty, New Mexico.
In Ludlow we sought Main Street lined with cracked sidewalks that frame weed and broken glass strewn vacant lots shadowed by the towering ruins of the Murphy Brothers store. Even the most vivid imagination would be put to the test to see a thriving community in this desolate landscape.
As the sun was sinking into the west, I skipped the site of Bagdad and its cemetery, and instead introduced Chris to the metropolis of Amboy. I regaled him with tales of the Bender Garage, the establishment of Roys, and the frustration induced destruction of a man named Burris that accomplished what a half century of blistering sun couldn’t do.
From Amboy we continued east past the silent edifices in Chambless and Danby as the shadows lengthened, crested Cadiz Summit with its ruins colorfully desecrated by modern hordes of Vandals, and stopped to savor a stunning sunset near Essex, the last community in America to obtain the modern blessing of television in 1977. As the rocky ramparts of the Cady Mountains severed the last rays of the days sun, I pointed out the forgotten well that was once so important to motorist on the National Old Trails Highwway, and then set our sites on home.
Silence and deep thoughts tinged with the faintest hint of exhaustion dogged the last miles across the Sacramento Valley and the foothills of the Cerbat Mountains. As the odometer slowly ticked off the miles an eagerness to again see my dearest friend drove away the regret that a wonderful weekend was drawing to a close.
This morning reality in the form of a phone call from the office informing me that as a result of an emergency, my day off was now void intruded on the warm dreaminess that accompanies a successful adventure. And before leaving the house the second shoe fell, another call informing me that if mother was not happy with her new surroundings then nobody else should be happy with theirs.
It looks as though it will be a week of grand adventure even though it my not be the type that I would choose if the option presented itself. Still, the carrot at the end of the stick is Chillin on Beale Street with its cars, music, and the presentation of a prerelease copy of Greetings from Route 66 signed by Russell Olsen and yours truly.
Isn’t life a grand adventure?



Well, after more than a half century of meeting the needs of the vintage vehicle hobby, Amos Publishing has pulled the plug on Cars & Parts magazine. So ends a personal association that spans more than of a quarter century and that includes the first automotive magazine my dearest friend and I shared as husband and wife, and my first position as a staff writer for a publication.
The loss of this venerable magazine also interprets into a monthly pay cut on the home front and the end of the monthly column, The Independent Thinker, at least in this format. The response received to this column over the past few years sparked the idea of using it to revive the Memory Lane Garage page on the languishing website Route 66 Info Center.
In the past twenty years I have written hundreds of feature articles and six books. Of all these endeavors this column was one of the most enjoyable.
The research was always fascinating and through it I met the most wonderful people. The response received to published columns was always positive and indicative of the fact people found them interesting.
The essence of the column were profiles of obscure individuals and companies that made astounding contributions to the evolution and development of the American auto industry. One of my columns was a profile of Ralph Teetor, the inventor behind the modern automatic transmission, cruise control, and countless other innovations that was blinded at age five in an industrial accident.
As I wrote these columns there was an increasing sense that by design or apathy we have become a nation of victims where creative excuses for failure and resultant dependence is almost seen as a virtue. However, I also found inspiration for a successful, happy life in writing the story of individuals like Charles Nash, an abandoned orphan who became president of GM and started his own automobile manufacturing company. 
So, I also enjoyed writing the columns as a source of inspiration. Judging by letters received, many readers appreciated them for that very reason. 
Perhaps these columns could form the nucleus for a book. After all, we could use a little inspiration, a little spark to get the creative juices flowing during these hard times. Perhaps we need a few more tales about people like Lloyd Rounds or Marta Becket of the Amargosa Opera House and less focus on the impossibility of overcoming (fill in the blank here) without assistance from the government.
Part two of today’s post pertains to another series of adventures on the legendary double six and a few more milestones along the highway of life. At the top of the list has to be the pending celebration of my 27 year marriage to the most wonderful women in the world, my dearest friend, who has stood beside through adversity, good times, and even my rough-around-the-edges callousness in the past.
Early on Saturday morning a good friend, Chris Durkin of the Kingman Route 66 Association, my son, and I will embark on a weekend of high adventure. Destination one will be Burbank’s legendary Auto Books – Aero Books.
This time it is rather an informal visit with friends and the search for research material that takes us to the land of endless traffic congestion where gray skies often leave you guessing the weather. Still, I will be signing a few books for those who ask.
As an added plus Russell Olsen, author of Route 66 Lost and Found, will be meeting me there. Russell and I have talked about the lure of the forgotten places along legendary Route 66 but this will be our first face to face discussion with the topic being the use of his images for illustrations in the current project, a Route 66 encyclopedia and atlas.
Photography is the primary reason for this excursion. First, there is the need for illustrative material to be used in the encyclopedia and then there is the work on the new print series that will accompany the release of Ghost Towns of Route 66 next spring.
So, this means we will be hitting the high points on the return leg, exciting vacation destinations such as Essex, Ludow, Amboy, Daggett, and Goffs. We also hope to have time for a stop at the Route 66 Museum in Victorville, just down the road from the historic Green Spot Motel that is on my list of sites to photograph, and the museum in Barstow.
The only real schedule we will be adhering to is the need to be back in Kingman by Sunday evening and dinner in Wrightwood with Hank Hallmark and, perhaps, Jim Conkle on Saturday. In between these planned stops are possible side trips to see Dan at the Santa Monica Pier and the Patel family in Rialto.
While we are away my dearest friend will be attending to the planning for another milestone that includes a baby shower next Saturday. This segway takes us to the adventures planned for Saturday the 18Th months edition of Chillin on Beale Street is shaping up to be the best yet. In addition to the usual anything with wheels car show, the music, food, games, belly dancers, shops, and vendors, this will be the official debut of the exciting new 240 page, hard cover time capsule that is Greetings from Route 66, a heavily illustrated compilation published by Voyageur Press.
The book will not be available for several weeks but the Kingman Route 66 Association has obtained a signed pre release copy that will be the grand prize for that evenings drawing. Presenting the book to the lucky winner will be none other than Bob “Boze” Bell, the colorful editor of True West magazine and a former Kingman resident with a long family association to the town as well as Route 66.

The commemorative dash magnet for the world
premiere of Greetings from Route 66.

To ensure everyone is in the spirit of the event a special commemorative dash magnet has been designed. These will be given to the owners of the first two hundred vehicles (including motorcycles) sporting any Route 66 promotional material from antenna ball or license plate to home made poster or bumper sticker.
I hope you can attend. This will truly be an historic moment in the long and colorful history of this amazing highway.