US Route 6; "Creating the Mythology"

I was sitting at a luncheon table with award-winning author/filmmaker, Steven Beschloss this afternoon at the ASJA (American Society of Journalists and Authors) conference in New York City earlier today.  We were discussing our various writing projects.  His - a new book; Adrift - Charting our Course Back to a Great Nation, is coming out in July.  Mine, of course, is my Route 6 trip and this blog.  I mentioned that I was basically UN-political, pointing to my very purple shirt with pride.  "I'll be driving through blue states and red states and this is the blended color I hope to see," I laughed.  Steven grinned and quipped - "You're creating a mythology around Route 6, the same as has been done with Route 66."

That's an interesting take on my humble project.  As I see it,  I'm just driving along one long road and writing about what I see, what I eat, who I meet and where I sleep. If a mythology creeps up around it, that's for others to interpret.  I'll be cruising along US Route 6, but, with all contacts I've established along the way,  I certainly won't be adrift.  

Route 6, IOWA

Here in the East, we may have a "corny" notion of cornfed Iowa.  "It's so boring, there's nothing out there to do but watch the corn grow," said one city slicker (not me).  This is the self-same slicker who gets all sanctimonious about eating strictly organic "farm to table" cuisine and exhorts others to eliminate stress by "stopping to smell the roses."  I say - what's the difference between stopping to smell the roses and watching the corn grow?  Plus, where do you think a bunch of those "farm to table" farms are located?

I also know that stereotyping runs both ways.  And I'm out to prove that not all people from the Northeastern US are elitist snobs. Although I must admit,  I had some pre-suppositions about the midwest myself.

Readers, Iowa is surprising me, though I really shouldn't be TOO surprised.  Before planning my Route 6 itinerary,  I vaguely recognized the state's importance in the world of national politics.   For decades the Iowa Caucus has been the first electoral event in the country during each United States Presidential Campaign.  Members of the press swarm there every four years, not to watch the corn grow, but to interview a very politically astute population.

And I've had the Iowa Writer's Workshop - the Holy Grail for aspiring poets and writers - on my own radar for years.  Many Pulitzer and National Book Award-winning authors have graduated from this University of Iowa's Graduate School Department, set in an unexpectedly metropolitan Iowa City.

But I've been most impressed by Real Estate agent Rex Brandstatter - an enthusiastic booster, cheerleader, and one-man-tourist bureau for Coralville, a suburb of Iowa City.  His can-do positive personality shines through his multiple emails to me, and I can't wait to see what Iowa City and Coralville have on tap.

I'll be in Iowa only a few days, so I won't have time  to sit and watch the corn grow.  As much as I'd like to.

Duplexes and Pairs - Cross Country Route 6 Terminology

"Duplexes with." "Aligns with." "Pairs with." Merges, piggy-backs.....  You'll read these phrases a lot during my travels on US Route 6.  Never meant to be a transcontinental route, US Route 6 nevertheless became one as roadways were improved and the original Provincetown, MA to Brewster, NY Route extended westward to Long Beach, California, beginning in 1926 and fully completed in 1937; though the stretch from Delta, Utah to Ely, Nevada was a rough and tumble dirt path that could hardly be called a federal road and was not paved until 1952.  In other words, Route 6 was created from already existing state roads.

So it should surprise no one that though I'll (you'll) be following Route 6 across the USA, I'll also be riding on other highways as well.

Is Route 6 a two-lane highway?  In many places it is.  In others, it "duplexes with" interstates (most notably in Colorado on I70) and other major US routes.  In some places the current Route 6 stays on these thruways while the older 6 alignment cuts through small downtowns.  As I refuse to stay on interstates longer than I have to, I will take the "Business 6" whenever I can.

Sounds confusing?  It really isn't.  As long as you "Stay on Route 6."

Buffalo in Brooklyn; Route 6 Bison

Oh give me a home where the buffalo roam, and I'll show you Brooklyn. That's Brooklyn, Connecticut - which isn't quite as urban as Brooklyn, NY but it ain't "where the antelope play," either. (It is, however, where the deer play, but that's another story).

Creamery Brook Bison, Brooklyn CT

Brooklyn, CT, like much of the state, is green and lush, with rolling hills, ancient stone walls and lots of farmland.  And it's here that the owners of Creamery Brook Bison decided to install herds of these admittedly strange-looking low-fat and low-calorie animals (what's with the Viking horns, wooly mammoth hide, camel hump and spindly legs?  Buffalo meat may be healthier than chicken, but bison looks haven't won me over).

Buffalo at Creamery Brook Bison

The farm is just a mile or so off of Route 6, and is open for group tours on Saturdays in warmer months.   A retail store (selling bison meat and other buffalo products) is open from 2pm-6pm most days.  Check the website for more information.  Or you can check back with me when I roll through Brooklyn in May.

Cranberries MakePeace; Route 6 and the Healthy Red Berries

A cranberry bog in winter, spring and summer is an unremarkable thing.  But if you happen to come upon one in Fall, when those tiny bright red healthful orbs float for harvest, it is remarkable indeed.  Route 6 glides through Wareham, MA - home to the A.D. Makepeace Company, "the world's largest cranberry grower,"and here, you can stop for a bog tour or buy a cranberry-themed gift. A.D. Makepeace is worth a visit for its name alone.  Who doesn't feel good surrounded by peaceful food? Wareham is also home to a new sea turtle and seal rehabilitation hospital at the National Marine Life Center.

Just another reason to Stay on Route 6......

The Natural Disaster That Shut Down Route 6 For Eight Months in 1983

For 8 months in 1983, you could not take US Route 6 on its complete course through Utah.  In April of that year, a hillside slammed into a mountain town, taking streets, buildings and railroad tracks with it; rendering US Route 6 a non-contiguous transcontinental route from April to December of that year.

Thistle, Utah, north of Green River (whitewater rafting central) and Price (home of the College of Eastern Utah) was a bustling railroad-service town until a sudden, massive landslide destroyed nearly everything. A main thoroughfare, US Route 6 was, along with the railroad, the most important connection to the outside world for communities north and west.  What is left of Thistle is considered a ghost town.

Route 6 was rerouted and re-built within 8 months, but was not stable enough for officials to declare it safe for another 10 months.  The highway now offers a pull-out from which to view the aftermath of the disaster and resulting landscape.

Tootsie; The Official Mascot of the California U.S. Route 6 Tourist Association

Mascots figure prominently in several Route 6 towns.  As I mentioned in a prior post, Mike the Headless Chicken is the town mascot and ill-equipped spokeschicken for Fruita, Colorado.  (Well, he's been dead and gone for over 55 years, but even when strutting around, he was ill-equipped to squawk a word).

And this here is Tootsie, the official face of the California U.S. Route 6 Tourist Association.  Naturally, there are actual talking humans - Fred and Bettty Hann - who can actually speak English and know every inch of the Historic Route 6 in Cali.  But, apparently, this cute mop-top doggie garners much more attention, hence this professional-looking Mascot Certification.    I'll be filling you in on other town mascots once I hit the road........

Jo Hurley; The Man Who Walked The Whole of Route 6

It takes a certain spirit to spend 8 months on a singular quest.  It takes a certain body to walk 3,700 miles in monsoons, unrelenting sun and the occasionally perfect 70's and cloudless day.  From March - November 2004, this body and spirit belonged to Joe Hurley, a Connecticut-based journalist, who became a sort of US Route 6 Johnny Appleseed, sowing  news about more eastern Route 6 towns as he walked from Provincetown, MA to Long Beach, CA.

It is not my plan to encroach upon Hurley's experiences and observations.  He took his time, favoring personal connections over "Best Restaurant" or "Coolest Attraction" (which is more my style).  As a result, Hurley's webpage is replete with Studs Terkel-like profiles of regular folk all across America with one thing in common. They all live in cities and towns thought which US Route 6 runs.

Joe's got a book in the works and now serves as the Director of the  Connecticut Route 6 Tourist Association.  He's probably the only person on earth with such in-depth, literally on-the-ground knowledge of The Grand Army of the Republic Highway, and I'm sure I'll be referring to him, too, in future posts.

Stay tuned.......

Why Has Route 6 Been Largely Ignored? I Blame Jack Kerouak

Though designated a transcontinental highway in 1937, Route 6 was not completely paved until 1952, just about the time that Jack Kerouac put the finishing touches on his ultimate road-trip book, On the Road. While Route 6 towns in the mid-West and West joyously celebrated a nationally recognized nearly straight-arrow connection to both the East and West Coast (news of the paving and parades made the New York Times), Kerouac was busy sounding the death knell for all would-be Route 6 explorers.

Apparently, Kerouac didn't intend (through the voice of his protagonist, Sal Paradise) to meander slowly through off-beat America.  He wanted to get to California fast and have some experiences along the way.  If Kerouac/Paradise hadn't been such a cry-baby near the Bear Mountain Bridge, perhaps US Route 6 would now rival Route 66 in nostalgia.

Here's the passage:


"I'd been poring over maps of the United States in Paterson for months, even reading books about the pioneers and savoring names like Platte and Cimarron and so on, and on the road-map was one long red line called Route 6 that led from the tip of Cape Cod clear to Ely, Nevada, and there dipped down to Los Angeles. I'll just stay on all the way to Ely, I said to myself and confidently started. To get to 6 I had to go up to Bear Mountain. Filled with dreams of what I'd do in Chicago, in Denver, and then finally in San Fran, I took the Seventh Avenue Subway to the end of the line at 242nd Street, and there took a trolley into Yonkers; in downtown Yonkers I transferred to an outgoing trolley and went to the city limits on the east bank of the Hudson River. If you drop a rose in the Hudson River at its mysterious source in the Adirondacks, think of all the places it journeys as it goes to sea forever -- think of that wonderful Hudson Valley. I started hitching up the thing. Five scattered rides took me to the desired Bear Mountain Bridge, where Route 6 arched in from New England. It began to rain in torrents when I was let off there. It was mountainous. Route 6 came over the river, wound around a traffic circle, and disappeared into the wilderness. Not only was there no traffic but the rain come down in buckets and I had no shelter. I had to run under some pines to take cover; this did no good; I began crying and swearing and socking myself on the head for being such a damn fool. I was forty miles north of New York; all the way up I'd been worried about the fact that on this, my big opening day, I was only moving north instead of the so-longed for west. Now I was stuck on my northermost hangup. I ran a quarter-mile to an abandoned cute English-style filling station and stood under the dripping eaves. High up over my head the great hairy Bear Mountain sent down thunderclaps that put the fear of God in me. All I could see were smoky trees and dismal wilderness rising to the skies. "What the hell am I doing up here?" I cursed, I cried for Chicago. "Even now they're all having a big time, they're doing this, I'm not there, when will I get there!" -- and so on. Finally a car stopped at the empty filling station; the man and the two women in it wanted to study a map. I stepped right up and gestured in the rain; they consulted; I looked like a maniac, of course, with my hair all wet, my shoes sopping. My shoes, damn fool that I am, were Mexican huaraches, plantlike sieves not fit for the rainly night of America and the raw road night. But the people let me in and rode me back to Newburgh, which I accepted as a better alternative than being trapped in the Bear Mountain wilderness all night. "Besides," said the man, "there's no traffic passes through 6. If you want to go to Chicago you'd be better going across the Holland Tunnel in New York and head for Pittsburth," and I knew he was right. It was my dream that screwed up, the stupid hearthside idea that it would be wonderful to follow one great red line across America instead of trying various roads and routes."

The Route 6 Government Historian, Richard Weingroff

Before California went rogue, renumbering many roads in the crazy-mod 60’s, US Route 6 had been the longest transcontinental road for several glorious decades, stretching out at an impressive 3652 miles. The Federal Highway was created in stages beginning in 1926 when the unfortunately acronym’d ASSHO (American Society of State Highway Officials) deemed it necessary to number a just- emerging federal highway system. Until then, roads were privately owned and named, and competition for tolls and notoriety between highway moguls was intense.  During the 1920’s, advances in cars and roadway technology boomed.  In 1912, there were 900,000 cars on American roads.  By 1920, there were 7.5 million.  At the same time, improvements in asphalt and road engineering made it simpler to pave those bumpy, uneven paths that served as thoroughfares. 

Over ten years elapsed before US Route 6, extended and patched together from existing routes in 14 states, was finally designated the longest transcontinental federal road in 1937. 

According to Richard Weingroff, who maintains a webpage of highway development history for the Federal Highway Administration, US Route 6 was not born to run coast to coast. "No one was thinking transcontinental when U.S. 6 was created.  If it were intended to be transcontinental it would have had a number ending in zero.  Instead, it was a short route given a number appropriate to its location in the numbering grid.  As the State highway agencies improved roads connected to the western end of U.S. 6, they asked AASHO to extent the number along the improved roadway -- and eventually it reached Long Beach, California." 

And though, in 1953, historian George R. Stewart wrote, “Route 6 runs uncertainly from nowhere to nowhere, scarcely to be followed from one end to the other except by some devoted eccentric,” there are plenty of eccentrics, and non-eccentrics who wish to follow this historic road. Just wait........