I found the coolest old school diner on Hwy 66. The location was Needles, California, which is a town I recommend avoiding.
As a boat safety expert, I had a couple of days of business there, so I brought along my daughter and son-in-law Heather and Jimmy Dunning. We love the joint, called Wagon Wheel, right on the infamous Hwy. 66 in Needles. Generous portions of good grub were served up with style and character by smiling staff. We ate three meals there over a two-day period.
Keep in mind that I am 200 or 300 years old myself, or so it seems at times, so I can remember when Hwy. 66 was a main route across much of the country and a fascinating culture built up along it. Cruising Hwy. 66 was a cultural adventure. It wasn’t a culture that had anything to do with nationalities, races, or political divides. Instead, it was a highway culture we have sadly lost.
Our Hwy. 1 along the West Coast almost remembers how to have a highway culture, at least in some spots, but it pales to the magic of Hwy 66. Sadly, much of Hwy. 66 nowadays runs on superhighways, and I have seen many dying and decayed spots where the culture of Hwy. 66 once stood strong and proud in the day of highway culture.
Each Hwy. 66 locale, be it a gas-and-diner stop or a community, had its own character and marketing flair. The roadside stops exuded an abundance of local character. Then the superhighways were built, and we could travel across country lickity split.
There is very little character and marketing flair on exits off superhighways, except where Hwy. 66 coincides with the superhighways. Wagon Wheel sits almost in the shadow of I-40, but it is on Hwy. 66 and retains some character.
After driving from Santa Barbara to Needles on a tank of gas, I needed to gas up before making the drive back home. My eyebrows went up when checking out the gas prices in Needles. They were about $5.69 per gallon (Yes, you read that correctly — $5.69) which explained why I saw few customers at the pumps.
About three miles away on the Arizona side of the Colorado River, I fueled up for $3.01 per gallon. Those gas stations were jammed with cars carrying plates from both states. That was a stark reminder of what our California politics costs us.
There was discussion about gas prices going in inside the gas station among people standing in line. The Arizona residents thought it was funny and one said to the complaining Californian in line next to her, “I moved to AZ from CA not long ago, and it sounds like you may make the move soon yourself.”
We used our tank of reasonably priced gas to drive back to Santa Barbara. As my readers know, I’m a sea captain and I have saltwater in my veins, so I need to be by the sea.
— Capt. David Bacon operates WaveWalker Charters and is president of SOFTIN Inc., a nonprofit organization providing seafaring opportunities for those in need. Visit softininc.blogspot.com to learn more about the organization and how you can help. Click here to read previous columns. The opinions expressed are his own.
