Day 12: The End of the Mother Road

After nearly two weeks, eight states, 2,956 miles, countless roadside attractions, historic motels, and unforgettable experiences, Day 12 marked the final chapter of our Route 66 adventure.

We woke up in the iconic Wigwam Motel in San Bernardino, one of the most recognizable Route 66 lodging stops in America. Sleeping in a concrete teepee felt like the perfect final overnight stay on the Mother Road. As we loaded the car one last time, it was hard to believe we were only a few hours from the Pacific Ocean.

The morning greeted us with the kind of weather Southern California is famous for—clear blue skies, warm sunshine, and temperatures that seemed tailor-made for enjoying the final miles of Route 66. After days of deserts, mountains, wind, and changing conditions across eight states, the beautiful California weather felt like a fitting reward at the end of the journey.

Our morning began with a visit to the site of the first McDonald’s restaurant, where a small museum tells the story of the restaurant chain that would eventually spread around the globe. From humble beginnings on Route 66 to worldwide fame, it felt like a fitting reminder of how this highway helped shape modern America.

We continued through San Bernardino, stopping to admire the historic California Theatre, another reminder of Southern California’s rich architectural heritage.

In Fontana, we paused for a delicious breakfast at the classic Red Hill Coffee Shop, one of the few surviving examples of Googie-style architecture along Route 66.

Our route then carried us into Rancho Cucamonga, where we visited the beautifully restored Rancho Cucamonga Service Station, one of the oldest surviving service stations on Route 66. We also stopped by two legendary inns, the Magic Lamp Inn and the historic Sycamore Inn, both of which have welcomed travelers for generations.

In Upland, we found another familiar landmark, the Madonna of the Trail Monument, one of several monuments erected across the country to honor pioneer women. By now we had followed not only Route 66, but also portions of older migration routes that helped build the American West.

The journey continued into Monrovia, where the striking Aztec Hotel stood as one of Route 66’s architectural treasures. Its colorful design and unique style made it one of the most eye-catching buildings we’d seen along the route.

As we approached Pasadena, the urban landscape grew busier, but Route 66 history remained everywhere. We visited beautiful St. Andrew Catholic Church, admired the stunning Colorado Street Bridge, and stopped at Fair Oaks Pharmacy for a photo. It felt like a small taste of another era.

A short distance away, we stopped to see the historic Rialto Theatre before making a pilgrimage to one of Los Angeles’ most unusual landmarks, the giant Chicken Boy statue. Equal parts quirky and iconic, it was exactly the kind of roadside attraction Route 66 is famous for.

Throughout the trip, I had worn a white straw Stetson that once belonged to my dad. He was the person who gave me my love of travel and my curiosity about seeing what lay beyond the next horizon. As the miles rolled by across America, wearing his hat felt like carrying a piece of him with me. By the time we reached California, it felt as though he had been riding along beside me for the entire journey.

And then, after days of anticipation, we reached Santa Monica.

The traffic, palm trees, ocean air, warm sunshine, and endless blue skies all combined to create a moment that felt almost surreal. We found the famous Route 66 Begin and End signs near Lincoln Boulevard and took the photos every Route 66 traveler dreams about taking.

But the real emotional moment came at the End of the Trail marker.

Standing there, looking out across the Pacific Ocean, we reflected on everything the journey had included:

•The skyscrapers of Chicago.

•Historic theaters in Illinois.

•The Gateway Arch.

•Missouri’s classic motels.

•Kansas backroads.

•Oklahoma’s endless horizons.

•Texas roadside giants.

•New Mexico’s neon and ancient pueblos.

•Arizona’s deserts and petrified forests.

•California’s mountains, ghost towns, and coastal cities.

What began nearly 3,000 miles earlier at the Route 66 Begin sign in Chicago had brought us all the way to the edge of the continent.

After celebrating our arrival, we checked into the Shore Hotel, our home for the next two nights, and finally returned the rental car that had faithfully carried us across America.

With the driving complete, we spent the remainder of the day visiting the Santa Monica Pier, where spectacular views of the beach and Pacific Ocean provided a relaxing contrast to the daily rhythm of the road.

That evening, as the sun slowly sank toward the horizon and painted the Pacific in shades of gold and orange, we enjoyed a seafood dinner and reflected on the adventure.

Route 66 is often described as a highway.

After twelve days on the road, we discovered it's much more than that.

It's a living museum, a collection of stories, a celebration of small towns and big dreams, and a reminder that sometimes the best way to see America is not by taking the fastest route, but by following the historic one.

We had officially reached the end of the Mother Road.

But the memories—the laughter shared with my best friend, the places we discovered together, and the feeling of having my dad with me every mile of the way—will travel with me long after the journey ends.