Route 66: The end of the road at Santa Monica pier

Chicago Tribune

3 days ago

SANTA MONICA, Calif. — Our Route 66 road trip began at the end, at the famed fishing pier jutting out into the Pacific Ocean.
On a breezy Sunday afternoon, the first day of June, a steady stream of visitors waited their turns to pose with one of the pier's most popular attractions: a Route 66 sign, perched on a pole 12 feet above the wooden planks, advertising the spot as the 'end of the trail.'
Except, it's not really the end. That distinction resides a mile east, at Lincoln and Olympic boulevards, the 'official' end of a route that since its decommissioning in 1985 does not officially exist.
We think of roads as fixed paths between fixed points. But since its creation nearly 100 years ago, Route 66 was different. It discarded entire sections of roadway and absorbed others. Sometimes the motivation was necessity — planners choosing a realignment that offered a straighter and safer option for motorists or a wider section that eased congestion, an especially important feature when the highway was used as a main transport for World War II troops and supplies.
Other times, it was changed to satisfy influential people who wanted motorists and their money to pass by a particular town or business.
When first commissioned, the highway ended at Seventh Street and Broadway in downtown Los Angeles, in the city's once-thriving theater district. Today, most have been converted to other uses. Jewelry shops dominate storefronts. Street vendors dot the sidewalk. Some sell produce; others, like Roberto Cruz, sell rings, batteries, nail clippers, phone chargers and key chains and magnets, including some that advertise Route 66.
The 68-year-old native of Honduras has sold his wares on downtown LA streets for the last three decades. He works seven days a week, he said, 'just to survive.'
Near his tables stands Clifton's. Around the time Route 66 was depositing motorists to its end, and long before the highway started collecting 'world's largest' novelties, a man named Clifford Clinton opened a five-story cafeteria unrivaled in its size. The son of missionaries who worked for a time with starving children in China, Clinton offered customers at his cafeteria the option of paying what they could for food. His family sold the business in 2010. Now called Clifton's Republic, it offers food and drinks on multiple floors.
Shortly after Clifton's opened, Route 66 was extended west to its current terminus. There, the multilane boulevards of Olympic and Lincoln meet the confluence of Interstate 10 and California Pacific Coast Highway. The result is a heavily trafficked intersection with few opportunities to stop and take a picture with the brown Route 66 signs on streetlights 20 feet high.
Other than Mel's Drive-In, a retro diner housed in the former Penguin Coffee Shop building built in 1959, the spot gave no hints of its distinction as the end of 'America's Main Street.' Or, perhaps it offered a glimpse into the future of the country's streets. A man panhandling at one corner watched a remote-controlled delivery robot (picture a large cooler on four wheels) scurry down an empty sidewalk, while multiple autonomous ride-share vehicles passed the other direction, their driver's seats empty.
The symbolic switch of the route's end from there to Santa Monica was formally dedicated in 2009, according to a New York Times story that described the event as a 'quintessentially American' resolution of 'placing the terminus in a place where it can best be monetized.'
One of those businesses selling Route 66 gear to visitors is the Santa Monica Pier Bait and Tackle Shop at the tip of the pier. Manager Victor Cruz estimated about a third of the shop's business comes from Route 66 travelers stopping for a souvenir. Some come armed with questions about the fabled highway and Cruz, 49, typically tells them about Robert Waldmire.
Waldmire's family opened the Springfield, Illinois, institution Cozy Dog, which is located on Route 66 and claims to have invented the corn dog. Waldmire, who was born in St. Louis, became a legendary figure of the route's lore. His hand-drawn postcards (some sold at the Santa Monica shop), maps and murals served as a route touchpoint for countless people. Both he and the van he took on his frequent route trips served as the inspiration for the character Fillmore in the Disney Pixar film 'Cars.'
Waldmire died in 2009. Soon after, the Santa Monica shop's owner, Mannie Mendelson, created a memorial to his close friend Waldmire outside the shop. Among the items in the display case are some of Waldmire's ashes.
On Sunday afternoon, a tour group that just finished a Route 66 trip stopped to browse Mendelson's shop. The group, 32 in total, left Chicago on May 23.
'On a bus tour, sometimes you're a little rushed, but we saw things — a lot of things — that we wouldn't have done on our own,' said Fran Gruver, 70, from Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. 'I enjoyed seeing the old towns and the old little gift shops that are still running and people are able to make a living from it. I think that's fantastic, and I hope the centennial really boosts them.'
Back at the Route 66 sign, a line of maybe two dozen people stood waiting for their turn to pose for a picture. Few had the road-weary look of people who had just completed a 2,400-plus-mile odyssey.
Kyone Johnson, 40, said she photographed her kids Khloe, 8, and Kyndell, 7, at the sign because she knew it was a popular photo op.
'I might have to try to drive it,' the Shreveport, Louisiana, resident said when informed of its meaning.
Barrie Phillips and his son Ryan Phillips did finish a Route 66 road trip that Sunday. The trip began on May 18 with a flight from their homes in Birmingham, England, to Chicago.
'My dad just retired, so I wanted to do a trip before it's too late,' Ryan Phillips, 21, said. 'Before I'm in a career where I can't take a lot of time off. Before he gets too old.'
'Yeah, yeah, I'm almost there,' replied his dad, 58.