Route 66 Backwards, Part 3: Texas Waffles & Cadillacs

Texas wasn’t part of the plan. I mean, technically, yes, we were following Route 66 east, and yes, Texas exists along that route, but we hadn’t expected to stay. We figured we’d zip through the 178 miles of the Texas panhandle in one day, wave at a cowboy, eat a steak the size of Mark’s head, and move on. But Texas had other plans.

Welcome to Part 3 of our 10,000-mile road trip, where we continue driving The Mother Road the “wrong” way, West to East. Missed the previous parts? Well, catch up! Here is Part 1… Arizona?, where we searched for Winona, and Part 2: New Mexico where we met the King of Villa de Cubero.

We began in Las Vegas, hopped on Route 66 in Needles, and traveled through the heart of the US of A. After reaching Chicago, we looped back through the northern states, exploring National Parks and quaint towns, before reaching California and finishing the last part of our Route 66 journey between LA and Needles.

Storm Watch from a Salt Pool

The moment we crossed the Texas border, we had our first local WTF moment. Our phones shrieked in unison, vibrating in our car’s cup holders. Hailstorms! Tornadoes! Seek shelter! The apocalypse, apparently, was scheduled for today. Outside, the sky had gone from wide-open blue to a slightly bruised gray, clouds slowly stacking on top of each other like they were plotting something. We realized a bit too late that driving through Tornado Alley during tornado season might not have been our brightest idea.

We exchanged wide-eyed glances, realizing that if we didn’t want our leisurely road trip to morph into an impromptu storm-chasing adventure (we’re tornado-timid storm dodgers if anything), we’d better find some shelter—and fast.

Luckily, there was a Hyatt Hotel practically begging to be booked for 6,500 points, right smack in the middle of Amarillo. We didn’t need much convincing.

Just for perspective, a Chase Sapphire Preferred card gives you 60,000 of those points as a welcome bonus for the cost of $95 annual fee and meeting the minimum spending requirement. Some Hyatt hotels can be had for as little as 3,500 points.

Amarillo: Smoked Meat with a Side of Community

Amarillo became our unexpected sanctuary. At Hyatt Place, the lobby smelled like fresh coffee. The staff were all smiles and Texas warmth, like they’d been waiting all day just for us. And then there was the pool, shimmering, warm, salty, and inviting. And next morning, as we cut into Texas-shaped waffles at a (free) breakfast buffet, watching syrup meander through the valleys of the Lone State, we realized that we won the potential-natural-disaster bingo.

But the real magic happened in a BBQ joint so unassuming, we mistook it for an abandoned shack.

The news droned on in the background—storm clouds still hours away. We stretched out on the Hyatt beds, scrolling through local food blogs and noticed one name repeating: Shi Lee’s BBQ. A quick glance at the sky, address punched into Google Maps, and we were off.

We drove past it. Twice. On first glance, it looked like a forgotten shed where rusted-out lawnmowers went to die. The kind of place with “Keep Out” sign swinging in the wind. Then we drove around it. The scent—thick and smoky—cut through all hesitation. This was no hardware graveyard. This was something special.

Inside, Tremaine, the local legend of barbecue and goodwill, moved with the effortless rhythm of a man who had both the smoker and the world around him under control. But he wasn’t just feeding people, he was orchestrating something bigger. With one hand, he carved tender ribs; with the other, he gestured to a group at the corner table, hashing out plans for the cleanup of the next rough neighborhood. Between plating collard greens and checking the brisket, he was making sure local kids’ backpacks were stuffed with school supplies.

And somehow, through all of this, Tremaine swung by our table every few minutes, looping us into the latest community project as if we’d lived in Amarillo our whole lives. He wanted even a couple of stranded road-trippers to feel like they belonged.

It started raining as soon as we got back to the hotel. Not a light drizzle. Real Texas rain, the kind that makes you question if you parked on high enough ground. We collapsed into bed, stuffed with Tremaine’s soul food, grinning like we’d just stumbled upon a secret chapter of a Route 66 guidebook.

The Cadillac Ranch: Legal Vandalism

When’s the last time you got to go wild with spray paint and not worry about getting arrested?

With one storm behind us (we slept through it, to the bewilderment of the Hyatt breakfast lady) and another supposedly rolling in by nightfall, we set off to see a surreal outdoor art installation where spray painting isn’t just allowed, it’s practically mandatory.

The “monument” is easy to spot: Imagine a graveyard of half-buried Cadillacs, nose-down in earth, coated in decades of spray paint so thick they look like geological formations. What started as a quirky art installation had become a living, evolving masterpiece, repainted by thousands of visitors armed with spray cans and zero artistic restraint.

It’s totally legal to spray-paint the Cadillacs. There’s even a little shop selling cans of paint at tourist prices—though the seasoned pros (ahem) knew to stock up at the local Walmart.

We, two reasonably responsible adults with no prior history of vandalism, were soon cackling like teenagers as we shook up our own cans and added our questionable contributions. A bunny. A heart. The words Mappy Ever After scrawled across a roof. And Slovensko, of course.

After years of layers upon layers, the paint had built up so thick on some cars that it started falling off in massive, solid slabs—some so big that if they had landed on a child, it would’ve made the news.

By the time we walked to the far end and came back to admire our work, another group had already moved in, covering our masterpieces in fresh neon chaos. It was ridiculous. It was perfect.

Thou Shalt Not… But Here We Are: Giant Cross in Groom, Texas

Another WTF moment arrived the next day as we drove along interstate 40 to check out the town of Groom.

There, right by the road, loomed a cross so monumentally huge it looked like God himself had stabbed it into the earth to mark his territory. Around it, life-sized biblical statues struck in dramatic poses, and a set of stone tablets so aggressively anti-gay that we had to double-check our phones if we hadn’t time-traveled to the Dark Ages.

Standing at this drive-by damnation on I-40, craning our necks, we looked like two bewildered tourists trying to comprehend whether this was genuine devotion or a pure roadside attraction.

And in case you’re thinking, Well, I’m fine—I’m not gay, be warned: There a few other rules you might have broken. Ever eaten pork (Leviticus 11:7)? Gotten a tattoo (Leviticus 19:28)? Lit a match on Saturday (Exodus 35:3)? Gossiped (Leviticus 19:16)? Cursed your parents (Leviticus 20:9)? And most pressingly, have you failed to love foreigners (Deuteronomy 10:19)? According to scripture, you, too, might be punished, even by death.

We didn’t linger, lest we be struck with fire and brimstone.

Onward to Oklahoma, But Not Before Some Nostalgia

With Texas in the rearview mirror, we rolled toward Oklahoma, but not before the hubby had a quiet little moment. See, he’d spent a miserable year in Texas as a kid, yanked out of sunny California and plopped into a land of cowboy boots and humidity. He hated it then. But now? Now, Texas had fed him well, let him vandalize some cars, and given him a pitmaster-turned-inspiration for a day.

Pro traveler tip? Always, always say yes to Texas-shaped waffles.

So there you have it. Maybe Texas isn’t so bad after all. We left a little piece of ourselves behind—probably still stuck under a layer of spray paint.

Stay tuned for Oklahoma!

During our Route 66 trip (and back), we covered 10,259 miles in 73 days. The total damage? $2,894, or $20 per day per person. You can see the breakdown in the September issue of my free Mappy Monday newsletter. 10,000 Miles and Still Married

Curious about sleeping for free at rest areas in the USA? I wrote about it here: Free Car Camping in the US Rest Areas