If you ask me, Route 66 is the best long road trip in America. Passing through eight states on its 2,448-mile journey from Chicago to Santa Monica, it’s a wild ride offering a remarkable change in architecture, scenery, attractions, towns, cuisine, and culture. Don’t have the two weeks minimum to do it justice? Do it in stages or just part of it. Route 66 through Texas and New Mexico offers more than 400 miles of adventure, taking you past vintage motels with neon signs, classic diners, restored service stations, trading posts, iconic attractions like Cadillac Ranch with its upended cars half buried in the dirt, and natural wonders like Petroglyph National Monument.
For Route 66 through other states, see my blogs Best Stops on Route 66 in Illinois and Route 66 through Missouri, Kansas and Oklahoma, and Joyriding Route 66 in Arizona. As for California, I’m working on it.
What strikes me is that many Americans don’t seem to know much about Route 66; even fewer have driven it. Yet travelers from around the world come to the United States specifically for Route 66. I’ve met visitors from Germany, Ireland, France, England, Brazil, and Japan. Some travel in groups. Others fulfill dreams of an American road trip on the back of a motorcycle.
This map on display at the Conoco Tower Station in Shamrock invites visitors to locate their hometowns with a pushpin. According to a newspaper I picked up in town, more than 20,000 guests signed the visitor center’s registration book in 2024, one-third of them from foreign countries.
Paul, a white-haired, goateed Brit I met at New Mexico’s Acoma Pueblo, said he’d wanted to drive Route 66 ever since he was around 12 years old and read about it in a comic book.
“It has exceeded my expectations,” he said about his journey since departing Chicago. “It is so diverse.”
In Adrian, Texas, I met an Irish couple at Midpoint Café who said they’d picked Route 66 for their two-week vacation solely for its major towns. Quickly, however, they realized that Route 66 wasn’t just a way to get from A to B; rather, it was a journey in itself.
“I enjoy seeing these little random things, like the Giants,” said Kristof, referring to the so-called Muffler Men along Route 66 that were used as advertising, “and the world’s largest ketchup bottle, things you wouldn’t find anywhere else.”
The fact is, while there are many terrific road trips all over the country, most of them haven’t preserved their past as well as Route 66. It’s like a drive-through history museum, of which Route 66 through Texas and New Mexico is only a small part.
A short history of Route 66
Route 66 officially opened in 1926 as one of our first numbered U.S. highways, making it 100 years old in 2026. As the optimal way to drive from Chicago to Los Angeles, it gained special prominence in 1939 with the publication of John Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath, followed by a movie of the same name in 1940, which memorialized victims of the Dust Bowl and Depression as they drove west to California in search of a better life. Steinbeck called Route 66 the “Mother Road.”
By the ‘50s and ‘60s, families were loading station wagons for road-trip vacations, where they encountered plenty of billboards, outsized advertisements, and plenty of kitsch hoping to grab their attention for a meal, amusement, or a place to stay. Service stations could hardly keep up with the gas, flat tires, and maintenance travelers required.
“Get Your Kicks on Route 66.” There are more than 200 renditions of this famous song, composed in 1946 by Bobby Troup and performed, among others, by Nat King Cole, Bing Crosby, Chuck Berry, and the Rolling Stones. And of course, what child of the ‘60s didn’t watch Route 66, which followed the antics of two attractive guys driving around the country in a Corvette convertible? We all wanted to be them. The animated film Cars introduced Route 66 to a new generation.
But it was never a static highway. Route 66 was always changing, eliminating sharp turns and railroad crossings as cars drove faster, bypassing towns that grew too large and congested. Every new alignment brought pain to towns suddenly cut off from motorists but offered opportunities to businesses on the updated road.
It was the birth of the interstate highway system that ushered in Route 66’s gradual demise. In 1956, President Dwight D. Eisenhower signed the Federal-Aid Highway Act, which authorized the construction of 41,000 miles of interstate highways. Eventually, five new Interstate Highways (I-55, I-44, I-40, I-15, and I-10) replaced Route 66. In 1985, Route 66 was officially decommissioned, and its last highway signs were taken down. Travel along the old route declined dramatically, but people who remembered its heydays found its pull irresistible.
Today, 85% of Route 66 is still drivable, sometimes only as frontage roads along the interstate but often meandering off through small towns you might otherwise never see. While Route 66 through Texas and New Mexico might not offer as many diversions as say, Illinois or Missouri, it does offer wide skies that open over a changing landscape from scrub brush to dramatic buttes of the American Southwest, with Amarillo and Albuquerque its two largest towns.
While I cover a lot, I can’t include everything on Route 66 through Texas and New Mexico, so save time for serendipity and the unexpected.
Route 66 in Texas
It’s interesting to note that seven of the eight states blessed with Route 66 have national or state scenic byway or historic designations (Illinois, Missouri, Kansas, Oklahoma, New Mexico, Arizona, and California). Only Texas does not.
Although Texas is our nation’s second-largest state (bested only by Alaska), just 150 miles of Route 66’s original 178 miles are still drivable through Texas. Its short length is due to its location in the northwestern-most corner of the state, the Texas Panhandle, which juts north from the rest of the state in a way that some say resembles the handle of a battered cooking pan. Route 66 travels straight across this Panhandle, from Oklahoma’s Texola in the east straight west to the ghost town of Glenrio on the New Mexico border.
Route 66 in Texas is not well marked. It mostly hugs Interstate 40 on the south or north side of the interstate or devolves into dirt roads. Entering Texas from the east, the landscape starts as rolling plains, stark and treeless, and then becomes flat as a pancake the closer you get to Amarillo.
Century-old forlorn windmills, modern wind turbines, tumbleweeds, scrub brush, cactus, and double-decker trains add interest to the landscape, but what struck me were the number of abandoned buildings scattered along the way. Dilapidated and in various states of ruin, they made me sad, as though the previous owners had just walked away and no one had bothered to tear them down.
After a while, however, especially as derelict buildings continued along Route 66 through Texas and New Mexico, I began to see those skeletal remains differently. As the only visible reminders of people who had pinned all their hopes on Route 66 and the American dream, there would be no trace of them without all these empty service stations, motels, tourist attractions, and weathered signs to mark their existence. Now they’re part of the history lessons of the Mother Road. Besides, how could I remain melancholy when the wide vistas and skies of Route 66 though Texas and New Mexico made my heart sing?
Route 66 east of Amarillo
The wind and dust kicked up as my travel companion and I drove west out of Oklahoma, eventually becoming so fierce that visibility dropped, sand stung my face, and the wind almost blew me over whenever I exited the car. It was a full-blown dust storm.
Our luck ran out in Shamrock, with weather conditions so dire that both I-40 and Route 66 were closed to westward traffic due to overturned semis and fire near Amarillo. We unexpectedly found ourselves checking into the Blarney Inn, whereupon the power soon went out in town for the next two hours. We ended up eating street tacos from a food truck (they were very good) and showering in luke-warm water.
Still, we knew we had it good. We had watched Grapes of Wrath the night before, which put our experiences into perspective. I read that travelers along Route 66 in the 1930s averaged only 60 miles per day and often got stuck in the Panhandle mud. Many slept beside the road wherever they were when night fell.
Shamrock got its name in 1890 from an Irish immigrant sheep rancher, who thought it might bring luck to the new settlement. Today Shamrock is a sleepy town of about 1,700 people, with mostly shuttered businesses on its main street. Its claims to fame are its 176-foot water tower, built in 1915 as the tallest water tower in Texas, and St. Patrick’s Day, declared by the Texas legislature in 2013 as the official St. Patrick’s Day celebration in Texas.
But the main thing to see here is the Conoco Tower Station and its U-Drop Inn, in my opinion the most gorgeous former service station on Route 66. It was built in 1936 of brick and glazed green tile in a graceful art-deco style. Today it serves as a visitor center with a small museum, gift store, and the U Drop Inn Café. No wonder it had a role in the Disney movie Cars.
The next day we drove past the sign advertising “Rattlesnakes,” and through McClean, where we hoped to visit the Devil’s Rope Museum and its tribute to barbed wire (there are more variations of barbed wire than you’d think). But alas, it was closed, most likely due to the dust storm that had wreaked havoc in the area the day before.
McClean, Texas, was founded by an English rancher who lost his life on the Titanic. During its heydays on Route 66, it boasted 16 service stations, six motels, six churches, and a population of more than 1,500. But like many small towns, it was bypassed with the construction of the interstate and is now something of a ghost town, with fewer than 700 residents.
From McClean Route 66 eventually becomes dirt and gravel, but you’ll want to follow it to Alanreed, just a blip in the road with a population of 20-some souls. It has what I consider one of the most Twilight-Zone scenarios on the Mother Road: The Super 66 service station (below), built in 1930 by Bradley Kiser in what was then downtown Alanreed. Peer inside, and it looks like someone just locked up and forgot to come back. There’s a story here for sure.
Near Groom you’ll soon see a rather alarming sight: a water tower leaning dangerously to one side. No worries. It was built that way as a marketing ploy to draw travelers into a truck stop and restaurant which later burned down, leaving Texas its own version of that famous tower of Pisa.
Amarillo, Texas’ largest city on Route 66
It looks kind of scruffy coming into Amarillo on Route 66/60. But soon the familiar chains start popping up and eventually you’ll find yourself in the Route 66 Historic District, centered on a mile of SW6th Avenue between Georgia and Western streets and listed on the National Register of Historic Places. Stop by the Texas Route 66 Visitor Center for information, maps, and souvenirs.
Then, stretch your legs as you take in eateries, bars, galleries, antique stores, tattoo parlors, and funky boutiques. Of note is the Lile Art Gallery, helmed by Bob “Crocodile” Lile, a noted artist and Route 66 historian who is happy to impart his knowledge to visitors. You might even pick up a local memento—Cadelite jewelry, fashioned by Lile from paint chips collected from Cadillac Ranch and polished into eye-catching necklaces, earrings and more. Hungry? The GoldenLight Café and Cantina has been serving hungry travelers since 1946 and is the oldest restaurant in Amarillo.
Otherwise, the Big Texan ropes ‘em in with a “72-ounce challenge.” This is Texas, after all, where everything is bigger, so is it any wonder that the Big Texan has the biggest dining hall I’ve ever seen? You could pack busloads in here. The music is country, the staff is dressed in cowboy hats, and the décor includes mounted deer heads and other preserved specimens on the walls. Unsurprisingly, Big Texan, open since 1960, is heavy on the steaks. The widely advertised, heart-stopping 72-ounce steak is free, but only if you can devour all of it and its sides within one hour. A truck driver from Houston told me he always stops here, but he’s never tried the 72-ounce challenge.
The Lone Star State’s most famous Route 66 attraction is Cadillac Ranch, an art installation since 1975. It features 10 Cadillacs buried nose-down in a dirt field. Cans of spray paint are sold on-site, so you can add your own design to cars already coated many times over, meaning that whatever you create won’t be there long. But you’ll be contributing paint for future chips that fall to the ground and are collected by Lile for his jewelry.
Route 66 west of Amarillo
Route 66 west of Amarillo is I-40 frontage road until eventually taking you to Vega and its attractive Magnolia service station built in 1924. But your destination is Adrian, famous for its Midpoint Café, built in the early 1950s and sporting the requisite booths and Formica tables. It serves mostly sandwiches and burgers but is most famous for its “ugly pies,” though the homemade peach, coconut, cherry cobbler, and pecan pies look fine to me. The main reason people stop here is to snap a photo of themselves standing in front of the sign across the street, which informs us that this the halfway point on the Mother Road, 1,139 miles from either Chicago or Los Angeles.
You have to get on I-40 after Adrian, but just before the New Mexico border exit south onto frontage road, where old Route 66 will take you into Glenrio straddling the state line. Once a bustling railroad town and popular stop, it’s now a ghost town with some of its original buildings intact. There’s also a wholly unexpected new enterprise here, but I’ll leave that for you to discover.
Route 66 in New Mexico
It’s easy to see why people fall in love with New Mexico: The wide blue skies intercepted by sudden and fast-moving rain, the brilliant earth tones broadcasting orange to rust to red, the vibrant cultures ranging from Indigenous to Hispanic to those who came later. And the food! New Mexico is known for its red and green chile (if you want both, ask for the “Christmas”), frybread tacos, and green chile cheeseburgers, to name only a few. New Mexico calls itself The Land of Echantment.
Driving west on Route 66 through Texas and New Mexico is where you catch your first glimpse of the dramatic American Southwest. Beginning in the east as a vast, flat prairie with scrub brush, the New Mexico landscape gradually transforms into desert punctuated with red rock formations, stupendous bluffs, towering mesas, yucca, juniper and pinion, and mountain ranges like the San Mateo and Sandia. Trains are a constant companion, and like in Texas, there are many abandoned motels, cafes, and shuttered businesses. Indian reservations spread across the western part of the state.
Originally, Route 66 in New Mexico was more than 500 miles, the longest stretch of any state, including a scenic loop that took travelers north from Santa Rosa up to Santa Fe, followed by heart-stopping switchbacks on the way back down to Albuquerque. Unfortunately, we didn’t have time for the Santa Fe loop, driving instead the 1937 alignment that changed the Mother Road into a straight shot east to west across the state. About 265 miles of the state’s Route 66 are still drivable, but note that it often parallels or snakes north and south around I-40, with many twists, turns and some dead ends. Expect to get lost. We did.
Route 66 east of Albuquerque
We passed on seeing the world’s largest flip-flop (40 feet long), installed in San Jon in 2024 and keeping alive the time-honored tradition of kitsch along the Mother Road. That gave us more time in Tucumcari with its impressive lineup of vintage motels, classic diners, neon signs, and more than 100 murals in and outside buildings, making this a choice spot to spend the night. It’s shocking, however, to witness how much the town has declined; about half of its motels, gas stations and other businesses look closed or abandoned.
We stayed at the Roadrunner Lodge, a cute update on the classic 1960s motel. Our room was like a time capsule, done up in a white and teal color scheme and welcoming us with a Victrola replica tuned to period music and advertisements, vintage magazines including TV Guide, and even two MoonPies.
From there we could walk to Del’s Restaurant, a Route 66 mainstay since 1956, and TeePee Curios, occupying a former 1940s gas station and filled with Native American jewelry and pottery, T-shirts and Route 66 souvenirs.
About 38 miles farther west is the eerie ghost town Cuervo, a totally worthwhile stop for its cluster of abandoned homes, a church, and water tower. Just another example of how an interstate replacing Route 66 spelled a town’s demise.
Next up is Santa Rosa, known, strangely enough, as “The Scuba Driving Capital of the Southwest.” That’s due to the Blue Hole, an 81-foot-deep artesian spring. With an underwater visibility of 100 feet, a system of submerged caves, and a constant 62°F, it attracts divers year-round. Swimmers are welcome, and I can imagine it’s long been a summer treat for travelers in the desert heat.
There are many vintage automobiles along Route 66, including those parked at classic motels, diners, and abandoned buildings to set the mood. In Santa Rosa, the Route 66 Auto Museum began more than 40 years ago as a business restoring cars and now includes over 30 privately owned restored vehicles. Some are for sale, the ultimate Route 66 souvenir.
We ate dinner at Joseph’s Bar & Grill, founded in 1956 and offering pizza and salads to New Mexican fare and burgers (the Rio Pecos Burger loaded with green chile and cheese is a perennial favorite).
Albuquerque, New Mexico’s biggest town on Route 66
Route 66 travels along Central Avenue 18 miles through Albuquerque, the longest continuous urban stretch in the country. This is an ancient city by American standards, founded in 1706 as a Spanish colonial outpost, most evident today in Old Town with its plaza, adobe buildings, shops, and San Felipe de Neri Church.
But before that Native Americans called this region home. Petroglyph National Monument is one spiritual place where early ancestors left their mark. Its awe-inspiring 25,000 petroglyphs represent the biggest urban concentration in the world. Various trails lead past basalt boulders marked with images, symbols, and designs carved by Native Americans and Spanish settlers 400 to 700 years ago. Pueblo elders believe that a petroglyph can choose when and to whom it’s visible, meaning you might pass some by.
Albuquerque has the seventh-largest urban Native population in the country. The Indian Pueblo Cultural Center celebrates the 19 Pueblos that call New Mexico home with a museum covering history and culture, a store with both traditional and contemporary artwork, and a restaurant serving Indigenous food.
Another museum that might snag your attention is the National Museum of Nuclear Science & History, established in 1969 to educate us on nuclear industry history, including the Manhattan Project that developed the atomic bomb, the Cold War, and the Atomic Age. Although there were undoubtedly Route 66 vacationers drawn to the museum, the film Oppenheimer has brought renewed interest in the topic.
Other technologies that were developed and grew during the heyday of Route 66 are told at two off-beat museums. The ASRT Museum and Archives takes what might be a dry subject—the discovery of the x-ray and the history of medical imaging and radiation therapy—and presents a fascinating look at the human sacrifices that were made along the way, revolutionary discoveries, and ongoing developments to save lives. (Thomas Edison’s own assistant suffered the loss of fingers and both arms before dying from radiation, causing Edison to abandon his x-ray studies.)
I also thoroughly enjoyed—wait for it—the Telephone Museum of New Mexico.
Telephones played an integral role along Route 66, with telephone lines running parallel to the Mother Road so that people could stay connected. I never knew that seeing the complicated inner workings of switchboards could be so engrossing (ask one of the volunteers to turn some on) or why women worked the switchboards. I also learned about Alexander Graham Bell’s experiments, the breakup of the Bell System, the laying of the transatlantic cable, and the transition of communications into space.
Other Albuquerque museums include those focusing on turquoise, rattlesnakes, and hot-air balloons, but there are also endless ways to experience the outdoors, including the Sandia Peak Aerial Tramway, which connects hikers to more than 100 hiking trails.
In fact, there’s so much to do, you might consider spending the night. Vintage choices include The Monterey Motel, built in 1946 and renovated with a chic desert vibe (check-in is at its MoMo Lounge, where you can unwind over a cocktail); the Imperial, a 1960s updated gem complete with a swimming pool; and El Vado, opened in 1937 but now a hip destination with rooms, restaurants and shops.
There are plenty of places for a meal, including diners reminiscent of the day like 66 Diner and newer establishments housed in historic Route 66 buildings, such as M’tucci’s Bar Roma in the former Jones Motor Company building. Lindy’s Diner, downtown across from the fabled KiMo Theatre, is the real deal, a popular Route 66 stop since 1929. During one of my meals here, I met nine French travelers who had been planning their trip for two years, traveling by car and taking turns riding three motorcycles.
“Everyone is friendly and wants to talk to us,” a French woman muses about their trip. Clearly, I was one of those people.
Route 66 west of Albuquerque
Acoma Pueblo
An hour west of Albuquerque is my favorite stop in New Mexico–Acoma Pueblo, known also as Sky City due to its location on a mesa nearly 370 feet above the desert floor. It’s the oldest continuously inhabited community in North America, settled almost a thousand years ago when the Acoma people moved from the desert below to the top of the 75-acre mesa for safety against nomadic tribes. To make invasion even more difficult, their homes had no ground-level doors. Rather, homes were accessed via ladders that that could be drawn up in case of attack.
That didn’t, however, protect the estimated 5,000 inhabitants from the Spanish. Their first encounter, in 1541, was peaceful. But after some conquistadors were murdered in 1598, Spanish soldiers attacked, destroyed most of Acoma’s 500 three- to four-story adobe homes, killed more than 1,000 residents, and forced survivors to submit to Spanish rule, including Catholicism.
Beginning in 1629, Acoma men, women, and children labored 11 years to build San Esteban del Rey Mission Church, hauling everything up the mountain to their pueblo, including 40-foot-long roof beams carried some 30 miles from pine forests in the San Mateo Mountains.
Today, Acoma is considered an ancient spiritual place, with about 300 ancestral homes, the church, and a cemetery. Because there is no running water or electricity, most former residents relocated to nearby communities but return for ceremonial events. Fewer than a dozen families live here year-round, storing drinking water, using lanterns at night, and cooking food in traditional outdoor adobe bread ovens, much like their ancestors did.
You can visit Acoma Pueblo only on guided tours. Although it’s located about 20 miles south of Route 66, travelers on the Mother Road would have passed roadside stalls where Acoma artisans sold their famous pottery with geometric designs. Acoma pottery and jewelry is now sold at both the Pueblo and Sky City Cultural Center, which has a museum, documentary video, gift shop, and café serving both Anglo-American and traditional Pueblo dishes. This is where you check in for guided tours and bus transportation to the nearby Pueblo.
Back on Route 66 north of I-40, we made a short stop at the deserted Budville Trading Co., named after Howard Neal “Bud” Rice who catered to travelers but was murdered here in 1967, and at the nearby old Cubero cemetery.
After passing the weathered sign for the long-gone Whiting Bros Gas Station, you’ll find yourself in Grants, once known for its uranium deposits. You’ll want to document your journey with a selfie at its drive-through arch, shaped like a Route 66 highway sign and lit at night.
Route 66 then parallels I-40 on its way to the Continental Divide, the highest point of Route 66 and the point where water flows either west toward the Pacific Ocean or east to the Atlantic (there’s an Indian Market here in case you want to make a stop).
Then, finally, you’re in Gallup, which turned out to be my favorite small town on Route 66 through Texas and New Mexico. That’s partly due to our overnight stay at the historic El Rancho Hotel, much different from the vintage motels we usually chose (we managed to avoid chain accommodations and restaurants on most of our trip).
El Rancho was opened in 1936 by R.E. “Griff” Griffith, brother of legendary movie director D.W. Griffith and owner of regional movie theaters. Gallup and its surrounding landscape were the perfect backdrops for Hollywood movies featuring the old west and cowboys and Indians, making the hotel the place to stay for stars like John Wayne, Kirk Douglas, Humphrey Bogart, Errol Flynn, Ronald Reagan, Katherine Hepburn, and Mae West.
The updated hotel still has a 1930s Hollywood western atmosphere (I’ve never seen so many John Wayne photos in one place), including a cozy and rustic lobby with a large fireplace, curving staircase, mounted trophy animals, and Navajo rugs and artwork.
Western-themed rooms are named after actors and have period furnishings
We ate dinner at the hotel’s The Silver Screen, but because we spent time the night, we also had time to eat at the Route 66 Railway Café, which isn’t historic but has prompt and friendly service (with more people working in its small kitchen than you’d think possible), and Jerry’s Café, family owned and operated since 1976 and famous for its New Mexican classics.
Otherwise, Gallup charmed me in with its dusty, small town Western atmosphere, probably the same reason it drew movie magnates. Founded in 1881, its history includes the railroad, coal mining, and trading posts. Surrounded by the huge Navajo reservation, Gallup is often called the “Indian Capital of the United States,” and with about 80 percent of its 22,000 residents Native American, it’s still one of the great Indian trading centers of the Southwest and supports a thriving cottage industry.
Richardson Trading Post, family owned since 1913, buys directly from Navajo, Hopi, and Zuni artisans and showcases their museum-quality jewelry, pottery, baskets, rugs, Kachina dolls, and more.
But there’s plenty more to see on Coal Avenue and other downtown streets, including more pawn and trading shops, tattoo parlors, bars, coffee shops, art galleries, and one-of-a-kind boutiques. No chains and almost no vacant storefronts. There are also more than 25 murals that tell a visual story of Gallup’s history and heritage.
This sums it up for Route 66 through Texas and New Mexico, but for information on other states, see my articles Best Stops on Route 66 in Illinois, Route 66 through Missouri, Kansas, and Oklahoma, and Joyriding Route 66 in Arizona. Stay tuned for my last leg, through California.
