By Caleb Jones
Missouri was home for the first stretch of Route 66 to ever be paved, but Route 66 changed lives for many people all across the country.
Growing up in Moniteau County, my world consisted mostly of gravel roads, neighboring towns and good fishing ponds. It wasn’t until I took a trip along Route 66 that the country started to open up to me.
In the summer of 1989, my family followed that road in a 1976 Ford Econoline van, pulling a pop-up camper, toward California. Road trips were different then. There were no smartphones, GPS directions or promise your vehicle would make it.
Our van made sure the trip stayed interesting. Somewhere along the way, a pin fell out of the vacuum advance on the distributor, throwing the engine timing off and leaving the van without much power. Dad would push the accelerator and that Econoline would respond slowly, like it was pulling a loaded hay wagon up a Missouri hill.
Then the radiator cracked, which meant every 100 miles we would pull over, let the engine cool down and refill it with water before continuing down the road. Some of my favorite stops weren’t planned — they were wherever Dad could find a place to pour more water into that radiator.
In Page, Arizona, my brother wrecked his bike and split his knee open. He ended up getting stitched up by a Navajo doctor. Looking back now, it was probably one of the more authentic Southwest experiences we had on the trip.
For a kid from rural Missouri, the country we drove through felt like an alien planet. We stood on the edge of the Grand Canyon and drove through the Petrified Forest. We saw towering redwoods, so tall they seemed to disappear into the sky.
Eventually we made it to Long Beach, California, where my great- uncle J.T. lived. He owned a 1964 1/2 red Mustang convertible. One of my best memories of California is my first ride in a convertible — top down and the sun beating down on me.
Our family wasn’t the first to head west from Missouri. About 50 years earlier, my grandfather Francis Jones, left Dade County, Missouri, in a 1928 Ford Model A. It was during the Great Depression and earning a living meant heading west to find a job.
He finally found work and stayed until he joined the U.S. Navy during World War II, when he headed to the Pacific to serve his country.
For my grandfather, the road west meant opportunity during hard times. For our family, it meant adventure.
A century after Route 66 was created, it’s still doing what it has always done — showing travelers new places and possibilities. But sometimes the best thing a road trip can do is remind us how good it feels to come home.
Caleb Jones is the CEO of Missouri Electric Cooperatives. He is a member of Boone Electric Cooperative. Email him at cjones@amec.coop.