Party Bus Route 66 Campground

The Route 66 Biker Rally Campground in Depew, Oklahoma, is our basecamp.  Brad and I arrived a few days early and explored the surrounding area.  We found the Pipeline Crossroads of the World.  We dined in the 50’s-style Boomerang Diner.  We found another bike rally venue nearby.  We spent some time chatting with a gun shop owner in Bristow. You can read those experiences in past posts on this blog.  

Now we are at the Rt 66 Biker Rally Campground as other event goers are arriving. The rock star bus is backed up to a large Butler-style building with roll-up garage doors along both sides of the building. Each RV spot has its own door to access the building.  I used the darkness of the building to adjust my headlamp one day.  As people arrive, they are parking their motorcycles inside the building for shade.  Folks begin to set up picnic tables and use the cooler climate of the building to serve meals.  Brad and I are invited to lunch with a large group set up on the opposite side of the building.  We share some stories and get to know more about our neighbors. There were many folks talking about their experiences at Little Sturgis.  Little Sturgis is a bike rally that takes place in July in western Kentucky.  Our new neighbors usually attend each July and have a lot of good stories about their experiences there.  We might have to add Little Sturgis Rally to our destination list.

The owner of the campground stores classic vehicles inside the garage the RVs are parked near.  There are some cool cars and trucks here.  While admiring the old vehicles, we discover a WWF-style wrestling rink set up in a room at the end of the building.  We learn there will be a wrestling match.  Every chair in the room was full the day of the match. Women were cheering on the muscle-bound male wrestlers as they ripped off their shirts when introduced for the match.  The energy was high in the makeshift area.  I can’t decide which was more entertaining, watching the wrestling match or watching the fan-crazed attendees. Definitely a cool experience.

Brad cooked, don’t tell Krista!  Brad decides to get his grill out and cook for our neighbors. Here is a picture because no one believes me that Brad cooked!

We met some new rally friends who set up camp a few sites down from us.  Randy & Shannon and Sean & Heather.  Randy and Sean make their living in the oil industry.  Sean makes money with his wells.  Randy makes money keeping well pumps working.  They each had a neat story on how they got started in the business.  The six of us shared hours of stories while hanging out around camp. We discovered the “Party Bus” together.  The Party Bus is an old Chevy school bus painted pink and green.  It has the words Party Bus painted on it among other things like free camping, lingerie show, screw cancer, etc. The seats inside the party bus were mostly intact like a traditional school bus.  There were two sections where the seats were replaced with bench seats along the sides leaving the floor open.  The open floor had dancer poles secured from the floor to the roof.  A few passengers lived their dream becoming exotic dance stars as the bus navigated a loop within the campground.  It was like a booze bus that picked partiers up around the camp sites and dropped them off at the main stage area.  One night after the bands were finished, Brad and I rode the bus continuously along the route maybe three times.  It was very entertaining to watch people get on and stumble off the booze bus.  

Overall the Rt 66 Biker Rally and Campground was a pretty cool experience.  There were groups that have been attending for many years.  The property has a pond with a slide where folks would swim, bands were good, the lingerie show was nice, most of all meeting people and hearing their stories were the highlight.  The owner carried a wallaby around in a shopping bag while smoking medical marijuana!  She was a hoot to listen to! 

Rt 66 Main Street America - Bristow

That yellow boom truck from last week is still being washed!  Brad and I saddle up, wave to the maintenance man washing the yellow truck, and ride out of the campground on our iron horses.  Ha! I can be creative.  

The Route 66 Biker Rally campground sign says it is in Milfay, Oklahoma.  The rally gear says Depew, Oklahoma.  The venue is between Milfay and Depew.  The Historic Route 66 Highway runs between the two towns.  Along the road, you can see the remains of the original Route 66 with grass growing in the cracks and remains of old buildings. The visual is exciting knowing we are laying our eyes on the historic “Mother Road.”  It is also a little eerie to see the decaying structures.  Route 66 connected rural areas with larger cities post-World War II. Route 66 was referred to as “Main Street America.”  Brad and I are excited to see some of the lesser-known small towns along the route.

We find the Town of Depew. We park across from the post office and walk Main Street.  Not much going on and not many businesses.  I did take a few fantastic photos of our motorcycles with the old main street buildings and a water tower.

Next stop, Bristow.  We ride our bikes east from Depew.  We note the presence of the original section of Route 66 that is abandoned.  The railroad tracks follow along the road as well.  I can’t help but think of the vehicle and railroad traffic through the area many decades ago.  We lean our bikes around a sharp curve, and I spot a sign that says VFW Wake Island Memorial.  Brad and I usually stop at VFWs when we have the opportunity.  Our best VFW story took place in Wadsworth, Ohio.  That is where we met Gary Broadbent, a member of the world championship USA Boomeranging Team. You’ll have to search the story archives to read about that day! 

After spotting the Wake Island Memorial sign, I led Brad into the parking lot of a Chinese restaurant to turn around.  We found the VFW Wake Island Memorial.  It is closed.  So we continued our ride into a bigger town called Bristow.

Route 66 lives up to its name, leading us to “Main Street” in Bristow.  As we follow the left turn from a traffic light, I am admiring the busier main street with colorful business signs and activity.  Brad roars up beside me to get my attention.  He read a sign that said “Half Price Hamburgers Every Monday” and “All you can eat Famous Fish Fridays”.  Today is Monday, so we turn the bikes around.  Parking is parallel along the street and full.  We park and take a short walk to the Boomarang Diner.  The diner has a ‘50s style and feel. It is very appropriately decorated in connection to the historic Route 66 era.  Brad and I enjoy diners like this.  The diner has a black and white checkered floor.  Old-style sturdy tables and chairs.  Antique display items and vintage photos.  I think there may have been some pies on display behind an old-style thick glass display case.  The atmosphere, food, and service were fantastic.  Brad and I dined at the Boomarang a couple of times during our stay.  On Friday, Brad enjoyed the fish fry and I went for a root beer float!

With our bellies satisfied, Brad and I walked back to our motorcycles. The street was busy with mid-day traffic.  As we approached our motorcycles, we noticed something on the seats of both bikes.  It was a business card with an arrowhead attached to it.  We noticed that we were parked close to a gun store, Shooters Shop, which is what the card indicated.  So we went inside. We opened the door and were greeted by this happy dog with long, bright white, fluffy hair.  Brad and the dog immediately connected as Brad stopped in his tracks to give the friendly dog some attention.  Inside the store and beyond the dog was a trike-style motorcycle and a wheeled Gatling gun. What a combination!  Paul, an Air Force Vietnam Veteran and owner of Shooter Shop, told us about the Gatling gun and that he didn’t ride his motorcycle often anymore.  Amanda, his bride, offered us some popcorn.  The dog followed Brad around the shop. We talked with Paul about firearms a bit.  Very capable gunsmith, shop owner, and patriot.  As I write this, I discover that Paul passed away in 2024.  I imagine Paul is back on his motorcycle enjoying his final ride.

Back Room Cafe

We entered Cushing, Oklahoma and saw a sign advertising restaurants in the Broadway District.  I chose to follow the sign in the hope of finding an appealing selection of restaurants.  We stopped at a four-way intersection controlled by an official stop sign in the center of the intersection, opposed being posted on the side of the street.  The stop sign was in a large planter and looked to be removable.  The streets are wide with angled parking on both sides of the street.  The vacant parking spots make the streets appear very wide.  I imagine there is plenty of space for block parties, parades and events of sorts.

I spotted a directional sign to the Back Room Cafe. Back Room? This might be interesting.  I followed the direction of the sign, and my eyes scanned for the Back Room.  We found it at the end of the Copper Penny Trading Company.  A large brick three-story building.  The cafe sign was small, and there were large flower decals on the glass door.  Brad and I briefly exchanged looks, wondering if this was a tea cafe or some boutique cafe with scones?  We opened the door.  It opened to the kitchen.  We were surprised to peer into a busy kitchen.  Should we walk away? We heard a voice call out, “Come on in!” We did.  We walked through the kitchen and took seats at the counter.  The stools at the counter overlooked the activity of the kitchen.  A friendly woman with a hairstyle that resembled a beehive welcomed us. 

Brad and I sip on our iced teas as we watch the activity in front of us. The cooks appear to be a family: mom, dad, and teen daughter.  As our conversation with the cooks continued, we learned they were not a family, simply coworkers.  The woman asks us what brings us to Cushing.  Without hesitation, Brad declares we are here for vacation. He continues talking about our motorcycle ride to nowhere.  He talks about some of the locations we’ve experienced in years past.  We are told no one comes to Cushing for vacation; it isn’t a vacation destination. The woman who appears to be in command of the kitchen staff talks about the town and how it has changed over the years. Somehow, the conversation turned to culture changes. Years ago, the military experienced a president that declared the don’t ask, don’t tell rule.  Society was changing.  Then the woman with the attractive beehive hairstyle asked Brad and me how long we’ve been together.  Brad immediately answers about 20 years.  He continues telling the story that we started riding together when we both lived in California.  The woman emphasizes, “California, huh?”  I get the feeling there is something lost in translation.  I let them know we are married but not to each other.  We got some chuckles out of that one.  Brad and I are motorcycle riding partners.  Partners takes on a whole new meaning in today’s society.  The misunderstanding might be because of that faded T-shirt Brad was wearing.  It looks pink!

Our experience at the Back Room Cafe was the highlight of our day. The food was delicious. The conversation with the staff carried on during our whole meal. The cafe filled up with diners seeking the daily special. 

We walked from the cafe inside the building to the other shops.  A variety of goods were for sale. We discovered that we had entered through the back door.  The back door to the Back Room Cafe!  The building was restored with creaky hardwood floors.  A neat place to visit.  Another exciting experience at a small business cafe!

Pipeline Crossroads of the World

Our bikes rattled down the road, leaving the small community of Osage, Oklahoma. We continued north along the river for a brief time when we came to an intersection of a nice, smooth, paved road.  We turned west, crossing over the Arkansas River, and entered the town of Cleveland.  Cleveland seemed much more interesting than our visit to the Osage park.

The route from Cleveland to Cushing contained straight, grid-type roads.  We rode due west for a while, then turned due south, then turned west again, adjusting until we found the road leading into Cushing.  The terrain was definitely the wide plains of Oklahoma.  We could smell some productive farmlands and see sections of pipeline and oil holding tanks.  

As we approach town, the fields become full of those large white oil-holding tanks.  A Welcome to Cushing sign and what appears to be some type of pipe sculpture mark the entrance to the town.  My hunger overrides my notion to stop to investigate the pipe sculpture and take photos of the sign. We continue into town with our eyes peeled for restaurants.  Our morning started early with a ride to Tulsa to repair Brad’s motorcycle.  Then I led us down a bumpy dirt road to find an abandoned park in Osage. It was time to eat.

We find a fantastic café and probably spent an hour talking with the staff.  We learned a little about the town.  At the café, someone told us that Cushing was known as the “Pipeline Crossroads of the World.”  The levels of oil in the holding tanks control the oil and gas prices on the stock market.  There were a few pipeline crossroad displays around town.  After our lunch experience, we followed directions to the nearest pipeline display.  It is noteworthy that the town has a lot of painted murals depicting older booming times of the town.

Dirt Road to Osage

The Route 66 Biker Rally is our basecamp this week. We arrived a few days early and have explored the surrounding areas.  There is another rally later in the year that takes place at a Sparks America Campground.  Brad and I rode out there to recon the campground.  The only person present was a woman riding a zero-turn lawn tractor at about 80 mph.  Grass shavings were flying around the fields.  She stopped long enough to give us an idea of how busy the campground gets during the motorcycle rally.  Boy, that lawn mower was fast!  

The next morning, we are at the Tulsa Harley-Davidson Dealership.  I believe Brad had to get something for his foot peg; something minor that he needed a part and he repaired it in the parking lot. 

Mission complete.  Brad’s Ultra Classic is ready to go.  I had been reviewing the paper map for a long route back to the Rt 66 Biker Rally Campground.  I found a park on my paper road atlas.  It was on the Arkansas River.  The route along the river seemed like a ride that promised some curves and river views. The road appeared to cross into the Osage Indian Reservation.  That might be neat to experience riding through a reservation.

We left Tulsa and navigated to the Arkansas River.  We followed the winding road north on the east side of the river.  The ride was going great at first.  Nice curves.  Some green vegetation.  The only river views were the first few miles after turning off the highway.  Then the paved road turned to a dirt road.  We slowed down.  Then the dirt road became rough.  Our bikes rattled down the dirt road and through the reservation.  The rattling became louder and we slowed the bike wondering if we should turn back.  I am thinking where am I leading us? Did I miss a turn? Am I lost? We stopped the bikes at what appears to be an abandoned small business.  Deterioration conceals whatever type of business it was; maybe a campground office.  We dismounted the dusty motorcycles to check the map and use the phone to verify our location.  No cell phone service.  I know Brad isn’t happy to be riding his touring Harley down a dusty dirt road.  At times it feels like we are about to fall through a crevice that will swallow our bikes.  Brad has no problem making a U-turn and heading back to safety.  I think he prefers it.  On the other hand, I avoid U-turns.  I am curious of where the road leads.  I have the urge to go just a bit further.  Brad obliged me in my quest to find this Osage park.  So we cautiously pressed on down the rough dirt road.  Both of us are watching our fuel gauges.  More dirt road.  No towns.  Then some pavement.  Then a house and a sign that says Osage!  I followed the sign.  We descended into a tiny community with about two dozen houses, a church, and a post office.  I recall seeing a man mowing his lawn with a push mower.  Another house we pass has a small junk yard or several projects in array.  We blinked and had already ridden from one end to the community and exited the other end.  I see the sign for Osage Point Park and feel better about navigating the previous long rough dirt road.  My motorcycle bucks. The pavement is buckled.  I brake before my bike throws me off.  The grass and saplings are over six feet tall, forming a green wall along each side of the road.  I swerve to avoid an upheaved part of the pavement.  An oncoming truck speeds towards us.  I can see the driver is just as surprised as I am that another vehicle is on this resemblance of a road.  Further down the road, I begin to see some water through the tall grass.  We get off our bikes and enjoy an open view of the river at an old boat ramp.  No one is around on either side of the water.  We take the moment to enjoy the sunshine.  I snap a few pictures, and we look at our paper map to form a place to ride to next.  Our stomachs have a big vote.  We decide that Cushing looks like a town big enough for us to find some eateries.  Now, if I can find our way out of this area without turning back down that rough dirt road. 

Wallaby and Yellow Truck

We just spent a week at the Great American Campground and Dive Bar at the Lake of the Ozarks in Missouri. Brad is driving the Rock Star Bus pulling our motorcycles on a trailer. Next stop, Depew, Oklahoma!  Why Depew? Because we are looking to experience a Route 66 Biker Rally. This one is scheduled for mid-June. We left the Redneck Revival in Iowa, had a fantastic layover at the Great American Campground and Dive Bar in Missouri, and now we are arriving in Oklahoma a few days before the Rt 66 Biker Rally.

Brad and I are rolling down the highway looking out the huge windshield of the Rock Star Bus.  We crossed the state line into Oklahoma sometime earlier that day. We are near Tulsa. Then out of nowhere, a toll booth appears! There was this old-timer manning the toll booth.  Somehow, this big rock star bus pulling motorcycles entered a tollway without a ticket.  The old-timer insisted on knowing where we were coming from.  Brad replied, “Missouri.”  Not the answer the old-timer was looking for.  He wanted to know where we entered the tollway.  We didn’t have a clue as far as we knew we were entering it now.  The exchange was a bit comical when the old-timer proclaimed we didn’t know where we were coming from, and he surely didn’t know where we were coming from. Brad said, “We know where we are going.”  “We are going to Depew for the Route 66 Motorcycle Rally.”  That got a big smile from the old-timer. Brad made some compromise on the toll fee, and we were granted access to keep moving forward.

We find the motorcycle rally event venue just outside the small town of Depew.  Brad navigated the rock star bus through the elaborate maze of a gate system.  We came to the checkpoint, and not a person was there.  We were days early.  Brad did make arrangements which granted us permission to arrive early.  So we stopped at the checkpoint to figure out which camping spot we need to set up in.

The signs let us know were were in the correct campground.  We got excited reading the paint brushed sign that read:

WARNING IF NUDITY OFFENDS OR ANNOYS YOU IN ANY WAY DO NOT ENTER

THIS FACILITY BY ENTERING YOU ARE AGREEING THAT NUDITY IS NOT OFFENSIVE NOR ANNOYING

The sign indicated this was going to be an entertaining biker rally!  There are plenty of campsites.  We ended up parking the bus against the big shed.  The shed is located near the stage and pond.  Brad leveled the rock star bus and got our camp on wheels set up. One of the maintenance men introduced himself and showed us around the large shed that Brad backed the rock star bus up to.  We had our own roll-up door and space for shade behind the RV.  The shed had about a dozen roll-up doors on each side of the building. It was dark inside since we were the only campers there and the other doors were closed. I took advantage of the dark area and adjusted the headlamp on my 2006 Street Glide.

The maintenance man hung out with me while I adjusted the headlamp. Then he said he had to get back to work.  He walked across from our campsite and began power washing this old yellow utility bucket truck. The letters US Army were stenciled on the side.  It appears to be an old truck purchased at a government auction.  I’ll tell you that must be the cleanest old bucket truck ever.  This guy power washed that truck twice a day for the first three days we were at camp.  Brad and I waved at the guy when we departed for our morning rides.  The guy would still be power washing the truck when we returned in late afternoon.  The maintenance guy said his boss was riding him to get that yellow truck clean.  We met his boss later.  Interesting business tactics!  The owner has a few wallabies running on the fenced property.  During a past performance, they paid a band with a wallaby!  Talk about bartering at its best!  These guys have some stories. The boss’s wife carries a wallaby around in a shopping bag!

Waitress Finger Shoots Brad

 

Brad enjoys telling a joke nearly everywhere we stop.  So I am going to start this week’s post with a joke.  It is about a young cowboy and his ice cream sundae. 

When Val was a young cowboy, he worked hard at the rodeo all summer.  He dreamed of riding in the rodeo one day.  He was brutally honest.  He worked hard at every thing he did.  Val, at the young age of 10, was serious about his transactions.  He’d walked past the ice cream parlor about a dozen times that summer.  There was a picture of a delicious ice cream sundae displayed in the window.  The thought of the sundae gave Val good motivation to keep working under the hot sun.  This eagerly anticipated day had finally come.  He earned some money and it was in his pocket.  Young Val, wearing his chaps, cowboy boots and large brimmed cowboy hat, strutted into the ice cream parlor.  He looked the waitress in the eye and told her he wanted an ice cream sundae.  The waitress asked if vanilla ice cream was okay.  Val said yes.  She asked if he wanted strawberries? Val said yes. The waitress followed up, “Do you want whipped cream and a cherry on top?” Val said “Yes, just like the one pictured in the window.”  The waitress asked, “Do you want me to to crush your nuts?” Val excitedly drew his cap guns and said, “Lady, do you want me to blow your tits off?”!!   Bada boom! 

The folks at the Great American Campground and Dive Bar gave us some great tips on the best motorcycle routes and places to eat that are perfect for motorcycle riders.  Armed with information on small diner choices, Brad and I left the campground and headed towards Cole Camp a small town in the rolling prairies.  The road to Cole Camp wound through the beautiful countryside, and it was a smooth ride.  Our motorcycles leaned into the turns, and the sun shone off the chrome, making everything look so shiny.  The temperature was starting to rise.  We enjoyed the cool air pockets as we rode through the green trees that shaded the road.  It was a relaxing ride approaching the middle of the day.

When we got to Cole Camp, the sun was high and the heat was on. The Classic Grill was the first restaurant we saw as we got closer to town.  I spotted a vintage yellow car parked next to the restaurant.  I didn’t manage to take a photo, but it was an antique car with those cool curved lines and a shiny chrome grill—obviously a symbol of the restaurant’s name, Classic Grill.  I knew we had to stop. 

Brad and I were happy to feel the cool air conditioning as we walked into the restaurant. We figured we’d grab an iced tea to cool off from the heat. It was a simple restaurant. The tables and chairs were sturdy and comfortable.  More than half the tables were full of people enjoying their meals.  This indicates that the food is great.  We were seated right away at a table.  As I walked to our table, I looked at the platters in front of folks eating.  The meals all looked delicious with big portions.  We also noticed an ice cream machine.  As we looked at the menus, we saw ice cream sundaes on the menu.  Neither of us was very hungry yet.  We wanted to take a break from the warming sunshine.  So Brad decided on ordering ice cream.

The joyful waitress greeted us at our table.  We ordered some iced tea. Then Brad ordered an ice cream sundae. The waitress terribly failed to conceal her surprise. She took a step backwards.  Her body began squirming like one of those inflatable stick men at a used car lot. You know the kind that wave in the air to get attention from folks passing by.  In a loud high pitched surprised voice, she exclaimed in a questioning tone, “you two big bikers are not going to have our big juicy hamburgers!!??”  She was animated and visibly surprised at our choices.  Brad matched the waitress’s enthusiasm.  It was a little comical as we attracted the attention of other customers in the restaurant.  Brad started laying it on thick with his order.  He declared we definitely want ice cream sundaes.  The order conversation went something like this;  

Waitress: Do you want a banana split?

Brad: No an ice cream sundae.

Waitress: Do you want vanilla ice cream?

Brad: Yes.

Waitress: Do you want strawberries?

Brad: Yes and whipped cream and a cherry on top!

The waitress follows up by asking Brad if he wants crushed nuts.  Brad excitedly exclaimed, “Lady, do you want”, the young enthusiastic waitress cut him off and pulled out her finger pistol.  She finished Brad’s sentence, “to shoot my tits off?!” Brad pulled out two finger pistols and gestured shooting at the happy waitress.  Both erupted in laughter.  I am sitting across the table from Brad with the waitress standing beside me.  Their finger pistols still smoking.  Myself the the other customers wonder what the heck just happened!  So Brad had to enlighten me by telling me the joke about the cowboy and the ice cream sundae.  Apparently the waitress has heard the joke a hundred times!