The eleventh of November is a very important day for a bunch of reasons. Most importantly, it is Veterans Day. We still observe a minute of silence at the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month, when the armistice ending the Great War (World War I) took effect in 1918, even though the name changed from Armistice Day to Veterans Day in 1954.
November eleventh is also my daughter’s birthday. (Happy Birthday, Meg!) This might not be her most recent photo, but it’s a favorite. She is nowhere near as old as Armistice Day or even Veterans Day, but I am. The name change happened near the beginning of my second grade. That previous summer, “under God” was added to the Pledge of Allegiance. It was a confusing time for seven-year-olds.
A third reason the date is important is that it is the day in 1926 that the American Association of State Highway Officials (AASHO) adopted the United States Numbered Highway System. “Numbered” and “System” are really important words in that name. Of course, “United States” is pretty significant, too. It was the first time a collection of highways running throughout the entire nation was organized systematically.
Chances are that if you are aware of that at all, it is because fans of one of those highways are enthusiastically celebrating their favorite’s centennial in numerous ways. In 2020, the U.S. Congress created a Route 66 Centennial Commission to study and recommend “activities that are fitting and proper to honor Route 66 on its 100th anniversary in 2026”. That commission is responsible for a website (Route66Centennial.org) that, among other things, serves as a clearinghouse for a wide range of activities organized by individuals and organizations connected to the route.
That makes sense in many ways. US-66 is certainly the most famous of all those highways created a hundred years ago today. It really is the most famous road in the United States and possibly in the world. For many, including me, it was the gateway drug that led to an addiction to driving old roads, and it is a widely recognized symbol of heritage travel in general. For some, it is itself the ultimate addiction. Quite a few lifetimes have been devoted to documenting, exploring, or simply cruising the Mother Road.
Yet, I’m a little bothered by the intense focus on a single road. It’s not so much that the rest of the nearly two hundred U.S. Numbered Highways that sprang into being on November 11, 1926, don’t get an equal chance to celebrate their own birthdays. It’s that it leads to us ignoring what was actually the big accomplishment on that date. The AASHO didn’t just create an easier means for finding your way between two big cities. It created a system for identifying a path between virtually any two points in the country. To quote myself: Making it all about a single road is “Sort of like New Hampshire celebrating its independence — and only its own independence — on the Fourth of July.”
The saying “All roads lead to Rome” implies that multiple Roman roads existed, but if pressed for names, the best most of us could come up with is the Appian Way. Maybe someday, when we’re all being teleported here and there or at least flitting around in flying cars, the only automobile roadway anyone will be able to name will be Route 66. Until then, I’m going to keep reminding folks that a whole bunch of roads were born a hundred years ago today, and that the big accomplishment wasn’t any one of them, or even all of them. It was the system.
When this blog does have a post on Wednesday, it is almost always some sort of review. This post is special because it was obviously meant to be seen on November 11, and by chance that’s a Wednesday. I’m spending the day on a U.S. Highway in support of my regular weekly post. I’d love for that to be US-22, which I’ve lived near or under for nearly 60 years, but that’s a fairly major undertaking. Instead, I’m tackling a shorter U.S. Numbered Highway with an endpoint in Ohio. I plan to celebrate the day by driving the entire length of US-42 from north to south. Hopefully you can read about it Sunday.
Nearly all the reviews on this blog are organic, meaning they are of things I’ve read, listened to, or attended because I discovered them and chose to review them on my own. This is one of the very few exceptions. The author, Beth Bacon, emailed me and suggested that since my site was about road trips and I did book reviews, I might be interested in reviewing her latest work. Right off the bat, I was impressed that she knew road trips and reviews were involved in the site. Most of the email requests/offers I get seem pretty oblivious to that. Cryptocurrency, miracle medical treatments, and streaming services are popular—the most recent involved ancient coins.
Those names, and the places too, seem carefully chosen. A road that’s 100 years old and nearly 2,500 miles long certainly has plenty of both. It’s easy enough for adults to be swamped and even easier, I imagine, for the 5-10 year olds that are the book’s target readers. Bacon picks subjects likely to interest the 5-10 crowd and doesn’t overwhelm by trying to include everything. The book opens with a few bits of information about the entire road and about Cyrus Avery, who was instrumental in establishing it. That’s followed by one- and two-page sections on each of the route’s eight states. One of the names appearing for Illinois is Bob Waldmire, who traveled the route in a Volkswagen bus. Missouri’s pages include Alberta Ellis, who operated a hotel and other businesses where people of color were welcome at a time when that was often not the case. This brief, casual mention of the topic earns a bonus point from me. The Blue Whale of Catoosa, Oklahoma, is an obvious kid-friendly subject, and Bacon introduces its creator, Hugh Davis, and his wife, Zelta, to her readers. Bacon also identifies more key names and places for these three states, along with a handful for each of the other five. A personal favorite is Bacon’s mention that Snoopy’s brother Spike lives near the Route 66 town of Needles, California.
I have a hunch that recognizing the publisher had a little bit to do with me wanting to review this book. The list of 
I’ve known Dr. 
Three of the Annie Mouse books involve Route 66. The author is a big fan of the road and travels it frequently. That is where, of course, I met her. In Annie Mouse’s Route 66 Adventure, she applies not only the road knowledge she gained through her travels, but also photographs she took herself. The book covers a near full-length drive of the historic route from Joliet, IL, to Needles, CA. Making the journey is the Mouse family. There’s Mommy and Daddy, of course. The Mouse children include Annie’s older brothers, Sam and Bobby; older sister Jenny; and some unnamed younger siblings. The trip’s purpose is to visit Mommy Mouse’s cousins in Needles. 
Annie is the journal’s narrator. She is also its photographer. When Annie first learns of the planned trip, her excitement grows even bigger when she is told she would be allowed to take her own pictures. Those pictures appear exactly as you might expect from a young mouse making a scrapbook-style journal of her family vacation. More importantly, they appear exactly as they should to help young humans flesh out the words beside them. Sometimes, with the help of illustrator Kelsey Collins, Mouse family members appear in those pictures just as you would expect in vacation snapshots. There are also plenty of Collins’ delightful drawings in the book outside the frames of the photographs.
This book first appeared in 2003 as a real paper and ink publication. I got a signed copy in 2004, which, because it was small and easy to stuff between seats or in the glovebox, I kept in the car for quite some time. Based on the copyright dates, it was revised several times, but I never got a newer one, and my copy became increasingly out of date. Prior to February of this year, it looks like the most recent revision was 2016, so even the newer editions might not have been all that trustworthy. The print editions sold for next to nothing (I paid $5 for mine), and when Priddy updated things in February, she went beyond next and made it available for just plain nothing via Google Docs.
It’s definitely reasonable to ask why someone who is about as far from kidness as it’s possible to get, ever kept this close at hand. I mentioned the size of the hard copy. The size of the entries is another positive, as is their organization. States and the towns within them are listed east to west. The list of attractions associated with each town does not appear to be in any particular sequence. Below each attraction’s identifier is a single paragraph containing a brief description, address, telephone number, and website. The descriptions typically include cost, hours, and any other special considerations. They are not written by AI or someone following a formula who has never been there. Priddy often shares personal insights.
It’s probably not hard to guess that this post was triggered by two recent reviews of books with titles (
There has always been a GPS in my car, starting with the very first of my documented road trips. The earliest ones I used showed me my position on a map and the straight-line distance to cities and other places. They did not offer routing. I actually doubt that routing was even possible before the government dropped “selective availability”, which limited the accuracy of civilian receivers, in 2000. I acquired a unit capable of routing in 2006 and started plotting downloadable routes for my trips. This included some partial Route 66 outings using directions in a first-edition EZ66 Guide, which I’d bought from Jerry in 2005. For my third full-length trip in 2012, I used a store-bought route.
That title may look familiar. If so, one reason might be the similarly named Route 66: The First 100 Years, reviewed 
Route 66: 100 Years is an anthology edited by Jim Hinckley of 
Like the beginning pages of many books about historic highways, the introduction includes tales of how the early automobile roads followed native trails, animal migration paths, and train tracks. And it talks about the impact that the popularity of bicycles had on the desire for and development of roads outside of cities toward the end of the 19th century. What makes it a little different from most similar writings is that it provides some details about organizations and specific events during road development during this era of pedal-powered transportation.
The state chapters appear in geographic sequence, east to west, which is the direction most people travel the route. Together, they provide a sort of combination travel guide and history lesson. I’m not talking about a travel guide with turn-by-turn directions, motel phone numbers, and such. However, most towns along the route are mentioned — and US 66 was a great connector of small towns — along with numerous points of interest. There is usually some history given about each town and POI, and there is plenty of history about the route itself.
The book is definitely well-illustrated. I don’t believe there is a single page, besides the index and authors’ bios, without at least one image. These include modern and period photographs, postcards, advertising brochures, and other items. Joe Sonderman supplied some of those postcards and brochures, as did big-time collectors Mike Ward and Steve Rider. I was extremely pleased to see a photo from the collection of the late Laurel Kane included. Many of the modern photos were taken by Jim Hinckley and his wife, Judy. I saw no photos from either Rhys Martin or Greg Hasman, although I know both are excellent photographers. I did see photos from Shutterstock, Alamy, and Getty. I thought both situations were curious, but the final product comes off well.
The quality of the book is quite good. Color and black-and-white images show nicely on the heavyweight glossy pages, and the layout serves them well. All have descriptive cut lines that include source credits. There are numerous sidebars, most with their own images, providing extra information outside of the main text flow.
The individual states that carried US 66 account for eight chapters. The book has nine. Dries Bessels, a resident of the Netherlands, authored a chapter named “Renaissance”. Dries has guided multiple tours down the length of Route 66 and provides an outside-the-country view of the historic road. The “renaissance” he writes about is its emergence as a travel destination for both Americans and foreigners after being bypassed and decommissioned. America, essentially spared the devastation that WWII brought to Europe, was the land of dreams to post-war Europeans, and Route 66 was a tangible thing that rolled right through those dreams. Today, Route 66 is still regarded as a way to experience a diverse range of America.
