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| The main drag, Tucumcari Street, noon on a Saturday in June. |
Earlier this summer I took one of my seasonal drives through the West, I-40 to be exact. I like I-40, because it’s pretty straight, and going through parts of Arizona and New Mexico (weather permitting) legally I can drive at 75 miles per hour. Stops basically are for gasoline and a restroom.
So I’m buzzing along in cruise control mode through New Mexico, being passed by a lot of cars (and even 18-wheelers), when I see the sign for Tucumcari. A little bell goes off in my brain. Tucumcari. Route 66. The Mother Road. Why not stop?
Tucumcari (pronounced TOO-kum-kair-ee) is one of those names that’s hard to forget. Little word games to play. Sounds like…two can carry…carry what? Two can carry a bag of potatoes easier than one can. The toucan carried a piece of fruit out the window. Anyway, Tucumcari is a name that can be fun, especially when you’re driving by yourself with nothing to do.
It’s also a town on the old Route 66 road. Many Route 66 towns were bypassed when the interstate was built, but several have used the popularity of Route 66 by nostalgia seekers as way to attract tourist dollars.
Amarillo, Texas and Elk City, Oklahoma are two cities in the West that have embraced Route 66, its history – and the tourists. Elk City, by the way, is home to the National Route 66 Museum.
So, here I was pulling off I-40 to go visit the toucan – I mean Tucumcari.
I pulled off at Exit 332 – with two huge truck stops on either side beckoning me to stop for relatively cheap gasoline – and head into town. After a couple of stop lights, there it is. The ghost of Route 66.
I’m at the corner of 1st Street and Tucumcari Street. I decide to drive West. I’m looking, but all I see are empty shops and businesses, some run down, and some in need of being torn down. Maybe I went the wrong way. I head east. Much of the same.
Tucumcari is in very sad shape. Maybe it’s the lousy economy right now. Maybe it’s because nobody pulls off I-40 except to get gas at the big truck stops. Maybe it’s both.
I’m in a hurry, but maybe too big a hurry. I look at my watch and figure, hey, slow down a bit. Look around. There are some classic Route 66 businesses in Tucumcari, such as the Blue Swallow Motel and Del’s Restaurant.
While staying overnight is not in my plans, I figure I have time to get a nice lunch at Del’s, walk inside and actually sit down at a table. Maybe meet some people.
The first thing I see is the big sign out front that reaches maybe twenty feet into the sky. On the top is a giant white and brick-red colored heiffer standing nobly above the words, “Del’s Restaurant / Since 1956.”
I pull into a parking space in front of the restaurant, turn off the ignition, and step out of the car. Man, it’s hot, maybe in the 90s. I walk inside. Suddenly, I step back decades to maybe a nicer time, definitely a slower time. The aromas coming from the kitchen are wonderful.
Next: The best hamburger in a long time
