Exploring: Historic Route 66 - The Great American South West

A few years ago I followed my photography dreams to Brooklyn, New York. I'm from California, and so moving there required a vast, cross-country drive.

As I planned the trip, I thought I'd much prefer the Northern route: some mountain passes and amazing vistas. But, I was traveling in my little Toyoata Matrix, sans four wheel drive, and departing in November no less, so I thought it safer to go the Southern route.

My dog, Lunchbox and I set off, Matrix stuffed with everything I needed to work and live. As an after thought I found one last place to squeeze in my tent.

Having now lived in Brooklyn, and since moved back home to California, I can tell you without reservation the best part of having moved to New York was: I learned I loved to drive and explore.

Call me crazy, but that first day I saw the sun set below the saguaro cacti, I had such a feeling of joy for the journey (rather than the destination). I think I may have been more content camping across the US than my whole time in New York. (New York is a story for another time).

Lunchbox and I followed the route, each new sunrise a welcome invitation to see something new or weird. I liked the desert. The way the land stretched out and the way the light lingered so long at each sunset. I saw living history, the remnants of a bygone era of the "Sunday Drive," small towns that used to be booming now mostly dilapidated by time. Route 66 served them no more. None the less, they maintained their quirkiness. Classic cars (in all stages of repair), roadside cafes (abandoned or not), statues of Elvis and Marilyn, and just plain oddities were these towns mascots. Driving East, I passed alien sightings, meteor craters, dinosaur fossils, an abundance of fireworks stands, bizarre gift shops, rock and gem shops, a mummy museum, and an abundance of Mexican blankets and moccasins for sale.

I learned about BLM land, which allows you to camp for free, usually for 14 days. I slept with my dog cuddled up beside me, since it was winter after all. I made coffee at rest stops, and drank it while watching other strangers. I usually woke up before sunrise, and felt happy to hit the road the same time as all the truckers. I took a shower at a truck stop. I ate too many donuts. I wore the same clothes.

Here's a little taste of the Great South West. It's funny when I look back on this drive, the drive wasn't meant to be the highlight, but it was.