RT66 Day 1: One foot in front of the other
Every adventure has a first day. Sometimes everything happens according to plan, sometimes it's messy. Whatever happens, just keep moving forward and, eventually, you'll find yourself somewhere you want to be.
Every adventure has a first day. Sometimes everything happens according to plan, sometimes it's messy. Whatever happens, just keep moving forward and, eventually, you'll find yourself somewhere you want to be.
Mural at the Rick Husband Amarillo International Airport
Administrative note: I’m providing the actual route as recorded to Strava and my planned route from Ride with GPS. In future entries, I’ll add my intra-day stops. If you’re planning to do this ride, I highly recommend scrutinizing the map for your intraday stops as they are, at times, sporadic.
Day 1: Amarillo > Adrian; 48 miles, 1,768 feet elevation gain (actual)
I took the first flight from SFO to Amarillo, via Dallas, at 5:45 a.m. I was a little groggy and tired when I landed, but full of excited, expectant energy. My dad was already waiting for me at the airport, ready to take me to the bike shop, Hill’s Sport Shop, where I had shipped my bike.
After picking up my bike, we tested my dad’s ability to use Google Maps — he’s 85! — by having him drive me to the point where I’d stopped six years ago. Then I put one headphone in, clipped my bike shoe into the pedal, and I was off. My legs felt a little heavy — it had been three weeks since my last ride — but nothing a few miles wouldn’t soothe.
First stop: the Cadillac Ranch, a highlight of Route 66. You can buy spray paint to graffiti the cars. There were plenty of “XX was here” and “A + B 2025” messages. I was tempted to add my own mark, but I’m not the artist formerly known as Prince, so I felt uninspired.
Cadillac Graveyard
Adrian, Texas, is 38 miles from Cadillac Ranch. I pedaled with trepidation as my left foot and ankle swelled to fill my narrow SIDI cycling shoes. I started developing three hotspots, which worried me intensely for the days to come. Fortunately, apart from the hotspots, the ankle didn’t hurt too much. I was also dismayed to realize that, in my excitement to get going, I hadn’t packed any food in my handlebar bag.
By the time I reached the midpoint — and stopping point for the first day — I was exhausted. I’d lost the rubber tip from one earbud and bonked on day one. Not an amazing start, but sometimes you just have to begin, no matter how messy it is.
Fortunately for me, my dad arrived to whisk me back to our hotel in Amarillo. I iced my ankle, took a shower, and fell into bed dreaming of the days to come.
Santa Monica, here I come!
Midpoint in Adrian, TX. The motel there looked like a ghost town but, I’m told, the muffins next door are the best on the 1,200 mile stretch.