The Mother Road Museum

Two Hours Between Gas Stations

When you’re driving through the northeast stretch of Oklahoma, gas stations get scarce. We found that out the hard way. After what we now call the “Moriarty miscalculation,” we made a rule: stop every two hours.
It helps with two things—one, switching drivers before the hum of the highway knocks you half-asleep, and two, keeping the tank from running dry somewhere between nothing and nowhere.

So we stop. Every two hours. Assuming there’s an exit. No point otherwise.

Cruising the I-40

The speed limit is 75mph out here, but we’re not in that much of a hurry. Sixty-five feels about right.
That’s us—the couple everyone’s honking at.

Our first stop after leaving Poteau was Okemah, a neat little town with a Sonic Burger and a gas station. Everyone likes Sonic. We topped off, checked the oil, grabbed snacks, and pushed west through the Sandstone Hills. It was Mary’s turn at the wheel, which meant I could nap—a system that works perfectly until your dream starts to look like the map.

Hunting for Lunch, Finding a Town

When I woke up, it was my turn to find lunch. About two hours west of Okemah, the land turns flatter and drier, but eventually a name showed up on the map: Clinton. They had a Phillips 66. Good enough.

Mary asked if Clinton had a Wikipedia page—she’s the curious one—and sure enough, it did.
Turns out the town straddles Custer and Washita Counties, named after Judge Clinton Irwin. It grew up around the railroad in the early 1900s and by the 1930s was already a key stop on Historic Route 66.

Median home price: $112,500.
Chance of violent crime: 1 in 270.
Chance of property crime: 1 in 88.
We figured we’d make it a quick stop.

A Building That Leans Into the Wind

Across the highway stood the Oklahoma Route 66 Museum—a low, wind-hugging building of steel and glass. The kind of place that looks modern and vintage at the same time. Inside, it’s pure nostalgia.

A red ’64 Corvette gleams under the lights. Somewhere, a jukebox hums “Get Your Kicks on Route 66.” Two volunteers greet us with maps and smiles. We step through the door, leaving the gift shop behind, and suddenly we’re walking into memory.

A Road Trip Through Time

The museum moves in four chapters:

• 1920s–30s: Early travelers

• 1940s–50s: The heyday—diners, motels, neon

• 1960s–70s: Decline and decommissioning

• Modern day: Revival and remembrance

Each one mixes artifacts, re-creations, and film clips. There’s laughter, the low hum of engines, and the faint sound of wind. For a minute, you could swear you smell the dust.

Memory and Motion

Mary and I both felt it—that pull of nostalgia that’s half personal, half borrowed.
I first rode the Mother Road as a kid, sweating through a non-air-conditioned 1964 Ford Custom from Illinois to California. All I really remember is heat and the horizon.
Over the years, we’ve revisited pieces of that road, one by one, like we’re chasing the ghosts of our younger selves.

The museum hit that nerve. Route 66 wasn’t just pavement—it was a promise. A way west. A chance.
The faces in the black-and-white photos seem to know it too. Farmers. Families. Soldiers. Travelers who all chased something bigger than where they’d come from.

Maybe that’s why it still feels alive. Route 66 isn’t just a road—it’s a conversation between motion and memory. Between where you’ve been and what you’re still looking for.

Worth Every Mile

Admission’s seven bucks, five for seniors.
Honestly, they could charge double and it’d still feel fair. A solid 10 out of 10.

When we stepped back outside, the Oklahoma wind was singing through the plains. The old alignment of Route 66 stretched west—weathered but unbroken. A green sign read: Amarillo 176 miles.

As we rolled out, the highway faded in the mirror. Some roads never really close. They just wait for someone ready to drive them again.

If You Go

Museum: Oklahoma Route 66 Museum, 2229 W. Gary Blvd., Clinton, OK
Hours: 9 AM–5 PM (closed Sundays and holidays)
Admission: $7 adults, $5 seniors, kids under 6 free
Parking: Easy for RVs and trailers
Tip: Come mid-morning before the tour buses roll in. The jukebox sounds better when it’s just you and the Corvette.