Route 66 part 5 — Santa Monica: Where the Journey Becomes a Voyage
Part 5 Summary — California
Needles • Amboy • Amboy Crater • Roy’s Motel Café •
Elmer’s Bottle Tree Ranch • San Bernardino Wigwam Motel •
Santa Monica • End of Route 66
Santa Monica — Where the Journey Becomes a Voyage
The moment we crossed the border into California, the atmosphere shifted—it felt palpably lighter, almost tender. This profound sense of change was perhaps born from the sheer relief of leaving the harsh, demanding Arizona desert behind, yet it was coupled with a quiet, internal whisper: 'You’re almost there.' The final terminus was in sight, and with its sharp anticipation came a complex, strange mix of deep gratitude for the miles traveled, and a soft, undeniable ache that a truly beautiful chapter was nearing its close.
The road through *Needles* welcomed us with a fresh onslaught of warm desert winds, a stark reminder that even the final stretch of Route 66 carried its own immense weight of history and resilience. We continued westward, letting the familiar hum of the car settle into our bones. The scorching Mojave Desert surrounding us made the temperature gauge visibly protest the very notion of movement, yet the asphalt relentlessly called us forward. This challenging section was perhaps the most humbling leg of the journey, demanding a quiet kind of respect for the sheer tenacity required both to pave this Mother Road and to traverse it.
Needles, often historically called the gateway to California, felt more like crossing a profound historical boundary than just entering a new state. This town is a testament to the pioneers and early travelers who endured the punishing heat and formidable landscape of the Mojave just to reach the distant promise of the Pacific coast. For us, this final stretch through the desert was a powerful final examination, echoing the struggles of generations past who knew that once Needles was behind them, the ultimate destination was finally within reach.
Roy’s Motel Café in Amboy: This iconic neon sign, a lonely beacon of hope against the endless Mojave Desert, marks a classic stop on the Mother Road, whispering tales of travelers from a bygone era.
The vast, humbling openness of the *Mojave Desert* stretched endlessly around us, defining the final chapter of our road trip. In this solitude, we slowed down near the legendary *Roy’s Motel Café* in Amboy. Even from a distance, the prominent black silhouette of the **Amboy Crater**—an extinct cinder cone volcano—made the desert landscape feel ancient and otherworldly, a stark trace left by a geological giant. The silence here was profound—the kind that truly humbles you and seems to hush all the inner noise we had carried throughout the entire Route 66 journey.
Roy's Motel Café was once a vital oasis for travelers, and its iconic neon sign, glowing faintly against the sun-bleached scenery, simultaneously tells the story of its prosperous past and its present, quiet endurance. We briefly got out of the car and stood on the hot sand, feeling the persistence of these isolated buildings that have watched over the Mother Road for decades. Though Amboy is nearly a ghost town today, the sheer survival of its structures embodies the enduring, eccentric spirit of Route 66, making it an essential, emotional stop before the coast.
In *Oro Grande*, we stepped into a world of unexpected beauty and light at *Elmer’s Bottle Tree Ranch*. This unique installation shimmered like a vibrant dream against the dusty desert, as thousands of discarded glass bottles caught the harsh Mojave sunlight and scattered a kaleidoscope of color across the ground. It felt truly magical, as if a private universe had been built entirely out of humble materials and sheer hope. Knowing that this massive folk art structure was the tireless creation of a single man, Elmer Long—who saw enduring beauty where others only saw trash—made the entire visit even more extraordinary.
More than just a magnificent visual spectacle, the Ranch was a profound auditory experience. The wind, whistling through the necks of the thousands of upright bottles, created a haunting, delicate music that added to the otherworldly atmosphere. This site stands as a beautiful and powerful testament to American roadside eccentricity, proving that creativity and passion can transform the most humble materials into something truly magnificent and memorable along the Mother Road.
By the time we reached *San Bernardino*, the world suddenly felt familiar again—a rapid-fire sensory overload of cars, people, noise, and lights. After days immersed in the profound, consuming silence of the desert, stepping back into a busy metropolitan city felt almost surreal. San Bernardino marked the definitive final return to civilization, a welcome noise that signaled we had navigated the wilderness and were now being smoothly guided toward the ocean. The road was no longer lonely; it was pulsing with life.
For one last nostalgic moment, we visited the **Wigwam Motel (#7)**, effectively closing the loop of our memories. With its distinctive teepee-shaped rooms, this motel served as a perfect, quirky reminder of the mid-century spirit of Route 66 that we had fallen in love with across eight states. Parking the car here one last time felt like a symbolic, necessary closure, acknowledging all the memories made before the ultimate destination: the Pacific. It was more than just a place to rest; it was a living monument, offering one final moment of quiet reflection before the grand finale.
The Western Terminus: The official "End of Route 66" sign on the Santa Monica Pier, signifying the completion of a physical journey and the powerful start of an emotional voyage.
And then—the **Pacific Ocean**. When we finally stood in front of the **"End of Route 66"** sign on the Santa Monica Pier, an overwhelming wave of emotion washed over me. It wasn't merely the cool ocean breeze or the dramatic glow of the setting sun; it was the weight of every mile we had traveled. All the challenges, the scorching heat, the laughter, the quiet moments of solitude, and the simple, profound fact that we never gave up—it was all contained in that one vista. The view from the Pier was the perfect, overwhelming closure to the physical journey. Below us, the vintage carousel spun its quiet magic; around us, the gentle, ceaseless roar of the waves spoke a language older than the asphalt of Route 66 itself. Standing there, looking out at the endless blue, I realized the word ‘end’ was only a geographical marker. The real completion was internal, forged over thousands of miles of solitude and discovery. The Mother Road had delivered me to the threshold of a new chapter, not just to the literal edge of the continent.
As I watched the colossal ball of sun finally dip beneath the horizon, my eyes filled with unexpected tears—not from sadness, but from the deep understanding that this journey had fundamentally changed something within me. The road had been long and winding, but it had successfully carried me to a better, new version of myself. In that final, golden moment, I whispered softly to the wind, “Well done. We did it.” I still didn’t know what the next chapter of life would bring, but standing at the vibrant, uncertain edge of the ocean, I realized I wasn’t afraid anymore. The long journey had finally become a genuine voyage—one that continues far beyond the end of any paved road.
덕분에 좋은 간접 여행 잘했네~^^
ReplyDelete나도 인생에 한번쯤은 해보고 싶은거 였는데 대단해 보이고 해냈다는것이 무지 뿌듯할꺼같아. 여정끝에 쌍무지개가 암시하는건 무얼까? 🥰