September 18 – Santa Monica
California’s second half more than made up for the dreariness of California’s first half. Yesterday was desert day – real desert, hot and brown. The day had ended in a city that must be in the running for dirt pile capital of the U.S. of A.
Today was different. After an initial 20 to 30 minutes on I 15 (we’ve left I 40 for good, now that we are turning south), the rest of the day was spent driving through cities that ran into one another, starting in San Bernadino and ending on Ocean Drive in Santa Monica at the Santa Monica Pier.
We left Victorville at about 8:30. The first part of our drive provided only a few deviations off the highway. Just west of Victorville lies Cajon Summit at an elevation of about 4500 feet. The Summit Inn stands guard on the left side of the road and still operates its cafe. It’s specialty reportedly is ostrich burgers. We didn’t think of ostrich burgers as the right touch for breakfast, so we moved on.
The Summit Inn at Cajon Summit |
Evoking some roadside history at the Summit Inn |
The highway (here, it’s an eight lane job) from Cajon Summit is a wild downhill ride. Trucks are required to go 45. Everyone else is supposed to be going 70. We were going 80 and had to move over to the slow lane, just left of the trucker lane.
We had a brief trek off of I 15 to follow Route 66. The route ran along dry Cajon Creek which lay on our right. The road is a two lane road. In its heyday, this was a four lane section of Route 66. The other two lanes were visible on the left and they didn’t seem to be in too bad shape.
Our off highway trek lasted about 6 miles, then we were back on I 15 for a few more miles until we were off (and almost off of all highways) for good. We took the exit for San Bernadino. In honor of our contemplated first itinerary item for the day – the McDonald’s Museum – we had stopped for a quick McDonald’s breakfast (Martha is partial to their coffee). We followed Route 66 into San Bernadino and immediately set out to find the museum. Unfortunately, the further we traveled into San Bernadino, the less inviting the neighborhoods became.
We were looking forward to the museum. It was located at the spot of the first McDonald’s, the spot where “speedee service” (i.e., fast food) was invented. This was McDonald’s before Ray Kroc took ownership and made it a global chain. We arrived just before 10am. According to our guidebooks and the museum’s website the museum is open daily from 10 to 5. By about 5 minutes after, there wasn’t anyone in sight. Given the neighborhood, we took off. (As you will see later, this turned out to be a good thing.)
The McDonald's Museum in San Bernadino |
Route 66 through San Bernadino is called Mt Vernon. After following that road going south, we made two turns to Foothills Blvd. going almost due west. We stayed on Foothills (going no more than 45mph) almost the entire way west to Pasadena.
San Bernadino gave way to Rialto. Rialto is home to the second of the Wigmam Motels on our route. Unlike the wigwams in Holbrook, we were able to see what one looked like inside. We were pleasantly surprised. The room was maybe twelve feet around, with a bed, night table, and a dresser. On the dresser was a flat screen TV! The bathroom was on the small side, but very clean.
Pulling up to the Wigwam Hotel in Rialto, CA |
The courtyard at the Wigwam Motel in Rialto |
Checking out a Wigwam (the housekeeper let us in) |
While we were at the Wigwam, we met a couple from Oklahoma. We had seen them while we were waiting at the McDonald’s Museum too. They were driving a 1949 Ford and had two small dogs along. They had never been to LA and were planning to stay for a couple of days.
David chats with fellow Route 66 travelers from Oklahoma making their way in a 1949 Ford |
From Rialto, the road flowed into Fontana, a very nice neighborhood and home to Bono’s Restaurant and the historic Bono Orange.
Bono's in Fontana, CA |
Bono's "Historic" Orange |
Onto Rancho Cucamonga, where the neighborhood turned to a series of up to date shopping malls, almost high end, with little stone posts displaying the Route 66 shield along the way. In Rancho Cucamonga, we saw the Sycamore Inn and the Magic Lamp Inn, both famous Route 66 attractions.
Roadside "charm" in Rancho Cucamonga, CA |
The sign for the Sycamore Inn in Rancho Cucamonga |
The Sycamore Inn |
The entrance to the Magic Lamp Inn in Rancho Cucamonga, CA |
The Magic Lamp Inn |
Rancho Cucamonga led into Upland where we were supposed to see a giant coffee cup. We saw it, a wood sign, three feet high, and were not particularly impressed enough to stop and take a picture. Upland led to Claremont, home to the college of the same name. The strip malls continued on either side of the highway.
La Verne and San Dimas followed. Glendora was next. There, we saw Flappy Jack’s Pancake House. There was supposed to be a giant boot and spur outside the restaurant, but we didn’t see it.
Azuza was after Glendora. Azuza is also a college town (also a college of the same name as the town). We saw the famous Azuza Drive In sign (still in existence although the drive-in property now belongs to the university).
Azuza Drive In sign (taken while traveling 30 mph) |
Irwindale was next, indistinguishable from the several towns that preceded it. We then hit Duarte. Duarte appeared to be a city of stop signs and lots of traffic. In addition, we had to detour off of Route 66 for a bit. We learned later that the part we were not allowed to drive had been the site of a Route 66 parade that day, a parade we apparently missed by an hour or two.
At the west end of Duarte, we came upon Tommy’s Burgers, an establishment bearing the motto, “If you don’t see the shack, take it back.” We stopped for burgers (what else) for lunch. We ordered the burgers “with everything,” which, it turned out, included a chili sauce. The best burgers that we ever tasted came from Johnny & Hangies in New Jersey, with their special “zoupy” sauce. We have to say that Tommy’s would give Hangies a run for their money, only Tommy’s doesn’t leave an three day imprint on your breath like Hangies does.
Continuing along Foothill Blvd., we made our first turn in a few hours, in Monrovia. We passed an antique gas station in the middle of a residential neighborhood. We also spotted the Aztec Motel, with its bizarre light blue stucco and brown stone “Aztec” decor.
Antique gas station in Monrovia, CA |
For a good part of the day the smog was apparent. It hindered the view of mountains in the distance or turned the skies on the horizon a brownish tint.
Our turns in Monrovia led us to Colorado Blvd. which, in turn, led us into Pasadena. In Pasadena, the neighborhoods changed from strip malls to more of a “downtown” city feel, the first downtown that we had traveled through since Albuquerque’s Central Avenue. One particularly impressive building was the ornate Pacific Southwest Bank & Trust Building.
In Pasadena, we decided to take a side trip to see “the Gamble House,” which we had studied in working with our architect, Ron Lloyd, and his crew at RDL Architects, in the design of our house. We arrived a little after 1. There was a tour leaving at 1:20. We were the only ones on the tour, so we ended up with our own private viewing of the house. (This is where the McDonald’s Museum nonvisit paid off.)
The Gamble House in Pasadena, CA |
Making our way to our tour of the Gamble House |
The house sits on a quiet street parallel to the moderately busy Orange Grove Blvd. In fact, the street is so quiet that it does not appear on Google Maps or the GPS that we had in our car.
The house was built in 1908, a time when influenza and tuberculosis were the main public health issues and when automobile traffic was uncommon. The house was built for the Gamble family, of Proctor and Gamble. The Gambles commissioned two architects who were brothers, Charles and Henry Greene. The Gambles loved the Far East. After signing the contract for the architectural commission, the Gambles left the country and did not return to the house until it was built. The Gambles lived there for six months during the fall and winter seasons each year, splitting their time between Pasadena and Cincinnati.
The house is covered by cedar shake shingles. The sills and trim on the long rectangular windows are redwood. The front door is made of art glass that covers not only the door, but openings on either side of the door that opened with screens to ventilate the house.
The front entrance of the Gamble House |
Wood is the predominant theme in the house. There are hardwood floors. In the formal areas – the front hall, the living room and dining room – the wood on the floor is arranged in a chevron pattern. The front hall is paneled. Some of the panels hide closets and doors. About three quarters of the way up the wall is a rail with a concave upper surface that allowed hooks to be used to hang pictures.
The house was originally equipped with electricity, a rarity at that time. All of the light fixtures were designed by the Greene brothers and made specially for the house. Figures of cranes and roses, which also appear on the Gamble family crest, appeared on these fixtures. Much of the furniture was also especially designed and made for the house. Some of the furniture was hand made by Charles Greene, who, our docent told us several times, “was the creative one.”
The first floor consists of the front hall, the living and dining rooms, a kitchen and pantry area, an eating area for servants, an office, a guest bedroom (with a bathroom) and a powder room. The kitchen and the bathrooms had white subway tile. The kitchen floor was originally black and white tile, which was removed after a flood to reveal hard wood floors underneath.
The second floor includes a master bedroom, two other bedrooms, another bathroom and an office. Each of the bedrooms has access to a large private veranda, each of which was used for sleeping in good weather. There is also a large, well ventilated attic.
The grounds were surprisingly modest, currently only about 2.5 acres (the house originally sat on a much larger tract). The grounds include a rather large “garage” which was built about four years after the house was constructed. (The garage is now the bookstore and gift shop for the Gamble House.) There was also a gas pump on the grounds. The backyard has a koi pond decorated by regular and clinker brick.
Backyard brickwork |
When the initial Gamble couple died, their eldest child, a son, inherited the house. He and his wife had six children, but the children did not spend a great deal of time in the house. They went to boarding school. Like the original Gamble couple, the second generation did not live there all year round.
In the 1920’s, the house was offered up for sale. When the Gambles heard one prospective buyer couple comment that they would love to paint the wood paneling and trim in the house, the Gambles decided to leave the house open for the public through an arrangement with the University of Southern California and the City of Pasadena. USC offers a program for fifth year architectural students to live and work at the house.
Plaque in front yard of the Gamble House |
Our tour lasted about an hour. It was well worth the time.
Back in the car, we headed south on the Arroyo Parkway. We didn’t really encounter any traffic almost until the exit for Dodger Stadium. We got off the Parkway at the next exit and ultimately headed west on Sunset Blvd and then onto Santa Monica Blvd. The neighborhoods on Santa Monica Blvd. gradually improved from poor to arty to high end to positively immaculate, bordering on sterile, in Beverly Hills. We stayed on Santa Monica Blvd. through Century City and its Avenue of the Stars.
As we went down Santa Monica Blvd., we saw all manner of vehicles from big semi rigs to what must have been a mini-Mini Cooper (the door came up only to the driver’s waist), with an appropriate vanity plate, “DOWNSIZE.”
As we approached the ocean, the sky went from smoggy to foggy and we watched the temperature drop from 78 (at the Gamble House in Pasadena) to 61 when we finally stopped.
As we got closer to the ocean, the traffic slowed. It probably took us 30 minutes to travel 10 blocks (it was around 4 on a Saturday afternoon). We ultimately hit Ocean Drive and, using David’s parking karma, found a space on Ocean, a block up from our “final” destination, the Santa Monica Pier.
The area around the pier is interesting. There are a number of high end shops and eateries along the roads leading away from the ocean. The pier itself leads to an amusement area. Just to the north of the entrance to the pier is a park that sits on a bluff overlooking the beach. We walked through the park, steering clear of a score of scattered sleeping homeless men, to find the marker noting the beginning (or the end) of the Will Rogers Highway, Route 66. The area was filled with all different types of people, most of whom appeared to be speaking something other than English.
The "end" - the Santa Monica Pier |
Marking the beginning (or the end) of Route 66 - the Will Rogers Highway |
Our hotel, the Fairmont Miramar Hotel, was on the corner of Ocean Drive and Wilshire Blvd. Our room overlooked the ocean and had a balcony. We got into our room at a little before 5. By 6, the fog had rolled in and obscured the view of the water.
We headed out to see a college friend, Lisa St. John, and Lisa’s husband, Brent, their two sons and twin daughters. Their house was ten minutes away from the hotel, going north along the Pacific Coast Highway in Pacific Palisades. The St. John home is Architectural Digest-spectacular, from the Cape Cod exterior, to the entry with its spiral staircase, to the white and black themed kitchen, to the warm but spacious living room. Lisa and Brent took us to their club by the beach for a drink and then to a nice little restaurant in town. After dinner, they gave us a brief tour of Pacific Palisades – a 20,000 person enclave in the mass of LA.
We returned to the hotel after 11pm. As we waited to turn from Ocean onto Wilshire (to turn into our hotel), dozens of cyclists came barreling down Wilshire and turned south down Ocean. They were shouting and singing (exactly what, we couldn't tell). It didn't appear to be some spontaneous group; some of the cyclists were dressed up in costumes or rode bicycles of unusual design. Police held up traffic to let them go by. As we waited on Ocean for the crowd of bikers to pass, we noticed that a guy in the car next to us had taken out his phone and was “filming” the riders and providing commentary. He ended saying, “You never know what you will see in LA.” Indeed.