Santa

Around 7 a.m. Saturday, in a lot beside the shuttered Santa Monica Civic Auditorium, a strange set of cars and trucks began to gather. Three Model A’s. A couple of ’60 convertibles. A 1964 Chevrolet Impala station wagon. Also, a big bull on trailer wheels.

“Am I in the right place?” asked a man in one of the Model A’s.

“Going to Chicago?” asked a guy in a white Denali.

“I wish I could do the whole thing,” said Joe Hernandez of Pasadena, wistfully standing by.

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This was the starting line for roughly 70 drivers who gathered to celebrate the centennial of Route 66 with a 2,448-mile, 20-day caravan to Chicago. Most had come from outside California to share an adventure with fellow “roadies” and boost awareness of the classic scenery and independent businesses along the eight-state route.

But soaring gas prices and hesitant international travelers have added uncertainty to a trip that was always going to be a logistical challenge. Day 1 alone might terrify an L.A. commuter: From the Pacific to Pasadena by surface streets, including miles on Santa Monica and Colorado boulevards.

“I don’t know how it’s all going to happen,” said Gary Daggett, president of the Old Route 66 Assn. of Texas. But he and his wife, Stephanie, have more than a little Route 66 experience to draw upon.

Mike and Lisa Visket of Prescott, Ariz., pose in Santa Monica at the pier in their Route 66 clothing on June 6, 2026.

“This is our 30th trip over 20 years,” Daggett said. “You can’t see everything. There’s so much…. You start meeting the people, you get hooked on the people.”

Shortly before their 8:30 departure time, organizer Rhys Martin called drivers together.

“Leaving here is going to be a little complicated,” he said.

Martin, who is part of the Route 66 Road Ahead Partnership, is president of the Oklahoma Route 66 Assn., and serves as manager of the National Trust for Historic Preservation’s Preserve Route 66 initiative. For the journey, he is driving a ’64 Chevy Impala station wagon with a GPS unit inside so that armchair travelers can follow his journey on the web.

“It’s going to be impossible to keep everybody together,” he said during preparations. “We’re encouraging people to spread out and support independent businesses rather than all going to one place and demolishing the kitchen.”

William Cooke of Pinon Hills participates in a caravan from Santa Monica Pier to Chicago, celebrating the centennial of Route 66.

In song and literature, the route is celebrated as an east-to-west journey. This caravan, running in the opposite direction, will travel from California through Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, Oklahoma, Kansas and Missouri to Illinois.

From Santa Monica, the Day 1 schedule took drivers to Beverly Hills City Hall, Grand Central Market downtown for lunch, the Chicken Boy statue and Galco’s Soda Pop Stop in Highland Park, then an overnight in Pasadena.

Day 2 takes the group from Pasadena to Barstow. Day 3, from Barstow to Needles. On June 25, the caravan is due to arrive in downtown Chicago.

The loose procession was led by a core group of 15 cars, including representatives of all eight states on the route. Since anyone can join or leave the caravan at any time, the number of vehicles will vary by the hour.

Through the decades, the road has grown from an American artifact into a global symbol of small-town Americana. Many merchants, restaurateurs and hoteliers along 66 now say that their summer customers are mostly travelers from abroad, especially Europe. One of the caravan’s drivers, in a rented pickup truck, was Dries Bessels, co-founder of the Dutch Route 66 Assn.

Brady Wilson of Amarillo, Texas, displays an assortment of Route 66 pins on his cowboy hat. Wilson is part of a caravan of Route 66 enthusiasts who set out from Santa Monica Pier on June 6, 2026, for Chicago.

Though the Model A’s will surely raise eyebrows on the road, the caravan’s most startling element is the fiberglass bull representing the Amarillo-based Big Texan Steak Ranch restaurant, one of the event’s sponsors.

“It’s the same one my dad brought home in ’71. His name is Big Moo,” said Danny Lee, who co-owns the restaurant with his brother, Bobby Lee. “He’s 12 and a half feet high. About 500 pounds. It’s all fiberglass.”

In 21 cities along the drive, the Big Texan team aims to stage nightly steak-eating contests, giving free dinners to anyone who can eat 72 ounces of steak, a baked potato, three shrimp, a side salad and a roll in 60 minutes.

The caravan’s first challenge came at the Santa Monica Pier, where there was no room for the cars due to a construction project, World Cup preparations and a Children’s Hospital fundraiser. Instead, the caravan gathered by the Santa Monica Civic Auditorium. Drivers strolled over the pier for a photo op, then returned to their cars.

“Herding cats,” said George Kulakowski of Huntington Beach, at the wheel of a 1931 Ford Model A Panel Delivery truck.

Participants in a Route 66 centennial caravan pose for a photo before they depart from Santa Monica Pier on June 2, 2026, for Chicago along the historic highway.

Another challenge awaited in West Hollywood, where Santa Monica Boulevard (aka Route 66) was busy with crowds for the city’s WeHo Pride Street Fair. By plans laid ahead of time, most caravan vehicles detoured around the party while select caravan cars followed a police escort through the action.

This way, Martin said, “another community along Route 66 gets to share its identity with the community at large.”

Allison Lehn of Boston participates in a caravan from Santa Monica Pier to Chicago, celebrating the centennial of Route 66.

By 11:15 a.m., Martin’s car had reached Sunset Boulevard in Silver Lake. Meanwhile, assorted other parades and caravans are traveling Route 66 in other states this year; most of them concentrate on short segments.

By 12:45 p.m., caravaners had met the mayor of Beverly Hills and rolled through West Hollywood’s Pride festivities, arriving at Grand Central Market, running slightly ahead of time.

On May 30, an estimated 3,596 classic cars joined a “Capital Cruise” on Route 66 in Tulsa, Okla., becoming a Guinness Book of World Records holder for the largest parade of classic cars, drawing an estimated 100,000 spectators and overwhelming local traffic.

In Arizona, the Williams Historic Route 66 Car Show was set for Friday and Saturday. In Texas, the Amarillo-based Texas Route 66 Festival is running Thursday through June 13.

William Cooke of Pinon Hills, left, and Sarah Jane Woodall of Tecopa, Calif., drive along Wilshire Boulevard in a 1960 Edsel Ranger Convertible as part of a Route 66 centennial caravan.

In those states and beyond, the caravan from Santa Monica will find hotels and motels in every kind of condition, vintage neon, road food, blue states, red states and purple states.

As a package of Times stories described in May, some landmarks date to the highway’s days as a scene of Depression desperation in the 1930s, others to its giddy postwar years in the late 1940s and ‘50s.

Route 66 was created in 1926 as a highway stitching together hundreds of local roads. Nicknamed “the Main Street of America” by its boosters and “the Mother Road” by John Steinbeck in “The Grapes of Wrath,” the highway inspired Bobby Troup’s song “(Get Your Kicks on) Route 66” in 1946.

But economic life along Route 66 has been precarious since the late 1960s, when interstate highways and chain hotels began stealing traffic away from the older, slower road. After Route 66 was decommissioned as a highway in 1985, about 85% of the old route remained in use, often as small-town thoroughfares, country highways and frontage roads alongside Interstate 40.

Efforts to save and rebuild the route as a historic resource began in the late 1980s and gained ground after the 2006 release of the Pixar/Disney animated features “Cars,” which tells the story of the highway’s rise and fall. In small towns such as Tucumcari, N.M., and Seligman, Ariz., the highway remains central to local identity and economy.

A vehicle in the Route 66 caravan is photographed June 6, 2026.

This year’s centennial improvements along the route “are things that are going to go into the future,” Martin said. “The real impact is going to be next year and the years after.”

When a friend asked if Tom Steyer could stop by my wife Delilah’s downtown Santa Ana restaurant, I had to explain to her who he was.

It’s not political apathy in my honey’s case. She’s just exhausted from running her small business, Alta Baja Market, in these inflationary times. She’s one of the 16% of undecided voters in a recent California Democratic Party poll — a group that may determine which two candidates for governor face each other in the general election.

Delilah agreed that Steyer could visit on Saturday after I told her that many of our friends support the billionaire’s progressive platform.

“Politics is your job, not mine,” she joked as we drove to Alta Baja and I named the other major candidates. The only ones she had heard of were Antonio Villaraigosa (“I liked him as mayor, but he needed to keep his pants on,” referring to his extramarital affairs) and Katie Porter (“Some of my workers like her, but I don’t know what she’s done”). She might be the last person left in the Golden State who hasn’t seen any of Steyer’s television and YouTube ads.

His campaign seems to have stalled in the polls even as he has spent more than $150 million of his own money amid doubts from some voters about whether they want a billionaire to lead the state.

So a visit to Santa Ana, the heart of Latino Orange County, was a good move. At Alta Baja, he could talk to my Mexican American wife and other blue-collar Latinos.

When rival Xavier Becerra came to O.C. a few weeks ago, on the other hand, he appeared at a private fundraiser attended mostly by professional Latinos.

“I just want someone who tells us where our taxes are going and treats this country like a business, and we’re not wasting money,” Delilah said. She’s a socially liberal and fiscally conservative Democrat who has been especially angered by President Trump’s deportation deluge, which left the streets of downtown Santa Ana empty for months last summer. “Because right now, our government is a hot-ass mess.”

I asked what questions she had for Steyer.

“So insurance had to cover all the disasters that happened with the fires,” Delilah replied. “So why is everybody else having to pay for it? And what are you really gonna do to help the state?”

She paused. “Tom is a Democrat, right?”

Delilah prepared for Steyer’s noontime stop as if it were any other day. She has fed the likes of U.S. Sen. Alex Padilla, Orange County Dist. Atty. Todd Spitzer and former Speaker of the Assembly Anthony Rendon. Republican gubernatorial candidate Steve Hilton is a fan of Alta Baja’s blue cornbread; Oakland Mayor Barbara Lee held a meet-and-greet there when she ran for president two years ago.

“You know who should ask questions?” Delilah said after she set the till for the day. “Angela.”

That would be 19-year-old Alta Baja employee Angela Nino, who will be voting in her first election.

“She’ll always be telling me, ‘Did you see the debate? Did you see the debate?’ And I always say, ‘No, I’m too tired to watch.’”

Nino soon clocked in.

“Guess who’s coming, Angela?” Delilah said before looking at me. “Is his name Tim or Tom?”

“It’s like I agree with some of his things, but he’s a billionaire,” said the Orange Coast College student and Santa Ana resident when I asked about Steyer. “His answers at debates have been pretty broad so far.”

Delilah smiled.

“You’re the future, girl, so ask him anything.”

Almost everyone who came in as we waited for Steyer was a campaign worker or volunteer. Former state Controller Betty Yee, who ended her campaign for governor last month and endorsed Steyer, sat at a table with her husband. Orange County Supervisor Vicente Sarmiento, who initiated Steyer’s Santa Ana visit, thanked Delilah for the opportunity. He has known her since the start of his political career on the Santa Ana City Council nearly 20 years ago,

“This is a city where our residents were criminalized because of ICE, our downtown suffered because of construction, and all this on the heels of a pandemic,” he told me. “These are the folks Tom needs to listen to.”

Sarmiento’s staffer got his attention. Steyer was here.

The candidate strolled in with a videographer and photographer. He wore his usual casual billionaire outfit — white-and-cardinal Nikes, jeans, checkered shirt with rolled-up sleeves and a colorful Southwestern-style fabric belt.

Steyer went straight to the counter.

“Are you running for governor?” he cracked while shaking Delilah’s hand.

“I don’t want to,” she replied.

“I knew you were a smart woman!”

He listened with wide eyes and a stern face as Delilah complained about a years-long light-rail project in front of Alta Baja “that has been worse for businesses here than COVID.” Insurance rates have gone up 30% in the last year alone, she said.

“Well, look, that’s my whole thing,” Steyer responded in his low, gravelly voice. “I’m willing to take on the big corporations who are ripping off California. And they’re all spending a lot of money against me.”

It was the Steyer I’ve heard on too many commercials: pugnacious, compassionate but spouting a whole bunch of boilerplate. Delilah smiled weakly.

“I appreciate that,” she said. “And we need more of that.”

Then she waved Nino over. Usually shy, the architecture major now channeled her inner Lesley Stahl.

“Why do you have to be governor in order to do something while you have billions of dollars?” she said.

Steyer didn’t flinch as he explained how he has funded ballot propositions and nonprofit initiatives to fight for a more equitable California.

“So I’ve been able to do something, but what I see in California — and what Delilah and I were just talking about — is big corporations actually run the state,” he said.

“That’s true,” Nino conceded.

“You have to take on the big corporations that are screwing everybody. And you can really only do that as governor,” Steyer continued.

“You want to tax the billionaires, is that correct?” Nino asked next, as Steyer nodded. “How come on some [campaign disclosure] forms, it shows that your billions are in different [countries] besides in the U.S.?”

The candidate vigorously shook his head.

“I might have investments outside the United States, but there’s nothing I’m doing to not pay — I pay full California and American taxes on everything, promise. There’s a lot of ways I could avoid taxes, but I don’t. And so, anything that I’m doing overseas is not to avoid taxes. … I give you my word.”

One more from Nino!

“And how can the people trust billionaires when currently they have been very disappointing towards us?”

“I understand why people are skeptical,” Steyer replied. “They couldn’t be more skeptical than I am.”

He argued that other moguls “are supporting every other candidate. Those people hate me — like, they think I stand for something really bad, which is making them pay their fair share,” referring to a proposed November ballot initiative that would impose a one-time 5% tax on billionaires like Steyer (he supports the measure).

“And they’re right,” Steyer concluded. “And so it’s like, they hate me, and that’s fine.”

Nino stayed silent. Delilah thanked Steyer, who was off to visit other local businesses owned by friends of ours. He bought a bottle of rosé, posed for photos with Delilah and Sarmiento and went off — but not before a staffer adjusted the back of his collar.

Delilah and Nino went back to prepping lunch orders. What did they think about Steyer?

“To be honest, I’m so skeptical,” Nino said. “I don’t think he has enough experience as some of the other candidates, and I feel like he could have been more into detail about his policies.”

What about you, honey?

“Gracious, very kind and not pompous, which is what I would expect from most politicians,” Delilah said. “I like that he heard out Angela — that’s important [that] politicians listen to the next generation, and I think everybody should be doing that. But I wasn’t satisfied with my insurance question.”

“And we don’t know if this is a performance,” Nino added, drawing a playful gasp from Delilah. “We’ve seen, like, throughout the years, many political people go into, like, regular [businesses] to seem like, ‘Oh, we’re relatable to the people. We know your struggles.’”

“Do they really?” Delilah interjected.

Nino frowned.

They could just be putting on a show for the cameras, she said.

When my husband and I bought our home, my dad recommended that I avoid sharing the name of our new city.

“Don’t tell people you’re in Goleta,” he said with a smirk.

I grew up in Santa Barbara, and despite my proximity to the little ag town of Goleta just 10 miles north, I knew little about it. But after enjoying its relaxed vibe, wide-open spaces and tight-knit community, I realized what I’d been missing.

Goleta might not have the glitz of its more famous neighbor, the one Angelenos frequently visit for its picturesque palm tree skyline, Spanish architecture and coastal resort vibes, but it deserves its own spotlight. And it’s been getting one lately: Goleta’s Monique Limon is making waves in the California Senate, the Austrian national soccer team will call the city home for the FIFA World Cup 2026, a renovation of the Ritz-Carlton Bacara welcomed chef Danny Grant’s new restaurant Marisella, and the debut of a full-scale train station is expected by summer.

Still, it can feel like there are more acres of walnut and lemon groves in Goleta than people — that’s part of the charm. Called the Good Land, a nickname pulled from obscurity by the late historian Walker A. Tompkins, Goleta largely remained dedicated to farming well into the 1900s. The city itself didn’t incorporate until 2002, though UC Santa Barbara had made Goleta its home 50 years earlier and the Santa Barbara Airport technically sat on Goleta land.

“We are a very young town and the longtime locals still have a very rural mindset,” says small business owner and lifetime Goleta resident Tom Modugno.

I’ve come to appreciate the blend of agricultural history and buzzy new developments in Goleta, but more than that, I love the small-town feel and running into friends wherever I go. That might be on the trails alongside the beach at Ellwood Mesa Open Space, at the new beachfront restaurant the Ellwood, at Lake Los Carneros while freshwater fishing or at the outdoor dining hall featuring local restaurants like On the Alley and Los Agaves. This list of great things to do is nowhere as comprehensive as it gets, but I hope it shows you a bit of why I’m proud to call Goleta home.