FREE CAMPGROUNDS IN SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA

GOOD NEWS!
The town of Amboy has been sold to Mr. Albert Okura, the founder and president of
"Juan Pollo," a fast food fried-chicken chain not unlike KFC but with a Mexican flavor.
The best news is that Mr. Okura plans to restore and preserve the town and not turn
it into a giant eating place. That was the reason that Buster Burris' widow, Bessie,
sold the whole town to him for $425,000 although she had had better offers. For this
price, which is less than the cost of a 4-bedroom house in a nice neighborhood, Mr.
Okura got a motel, gas station, church, post office, school buildings and an airstrip
for small airplaines. Of course the crown jewel is ROY'S CAFE, a landmark that is
known to many Route 66 "roadies" the world over. All this sits on almost 700 acres.
Number one on his priority list, Mr. Okura said, was to restore the town's water
supply. After that, he will open the gas station, restrooms and coffee shop catering
to the traffic between Palm Springs and Laughlin,NV. Let's hope that he will succeed
and do stop by if you are in the area even if it is only to buy a cup of coffee.



LATEST NEWS FLASH!
When I stopped by Roy's Cafe in Amboy, CA on Saturday
April 2, 2005 it was closed. Looking through the windows
I saw that the place was empty. All the furniture and
fixtures were gone, as was the case with the house
next door where Buster and his wife had lived for many
years. Some of the windows of the cottages facing Route
66 were broken.--In the desert that means
"The beginning of the end." How sad indeed!
Pretty soon the birds will take over followed by the
pack-rats and vermin. Another relic along the Mother Road
falling by the wayside unless some organisation will
come to the rescue!!
More updates below!



The sign says Pop.20 but from the looks of the town this
number must be grossly overstated even if you include the
pet dogs and cats.
The town is centered around Roy's Motel/Cafe. As a matter
of fact, Roy's and the Post Office accross the street from
it are the only places still alive and open for business.



Roy's was built stone by stone by a man named Buster Burris.
Although started by his father-in-law Roy who owned the prop-
erty, it was Buster who made this place into what it is today
and he worked it since 1938.
I have spent many hours with Buster, listening to his stories
how Amboy used to be until the Interstate 40, some 10 miles to
the north, bypassed Route 66 and killed the town.
"Not 1 or 2 but 7 tow trucks (he called them wreckers) were
supplying the garage with cars in need of fixing." he said,
"The garage as well as the cafe were open 24 hours a day,
7 days a week. The motel had an occupancy rate of 200% and yet
some travelers had to sleep in their cars. Those were the days!


COTTAGES

How I wished now that I had taped those long conversations on
those long afternoons when there was nobody else in the cafe
but Buster and me. Mr. Burris passed away in 2001 and some
years before that he retired and moved to Twentynine Palms.
I would see him at the local Stater Bros. supermarket.
We'd exchange pleasantries like "How are you?" and "What
have you been doing with yourself?" but it was not the same,
the old camaraderie was gone. That seems to be the way it
goes, nothing stays the same.
Oh, don't get me wrong, the cafe is still there, looking just
the way it did for many years. The stainless steel backbar,
the formica counter top and vinyl upholstery. The coffeemaker
and toasters are still where they have been since time began.
Everything's still like it was when I first saw it some 20 yrs
ago....everything but Mr. Buster Burris. May he rest in peace.


MOTEL

The cafe is now operated by Joe, the new proprietor,who said
that when he first took the place over he allowed overnight
parking on his huge parking lot but (and I quote) "it took
an hour everyday to pick up the trash that the people would
leave behind and the wind scattered it all over the place."
Thus, no more overnight parking here.



So what if the price for gas is somewhat higher here.
To many a traveler with the needle on E these pumps must be
a welcoming sight.


HOW AMBOY GOT ITS NAME
There is a story that has been going around for a long, long
time as how Amboy got its name. Two prospectors, I believe
their names were Virgil and Samuel, accompanied by their mule
whose name was Betsie, crossed this part of the desert during
the month of July at high noon and Virgil said: "It is hot!
Aint you hot?" when Sam answered: "I sure as hell AM BOY!"


AMBOY SCHOOL

The Amboy school is closed now, it closed in 1999. Students
who still live in Amboy are taken by bus to Needles, some
75 miles to the east on the banks of the Colorado River and
on the border between California and Arizona
While I was standing at the gate to the schoolyard that was
wide open but had a NO TRESPASSING sign posted, I couldn't
help asking myself where have all those children gone who
once went to school here. What has become of them and where
are they now?
As I stood there seeing the empty swings moving slowly in the
wind,I closed my eyes and like magic I could hear the voices
of the past. The joyful noises heard on every playground.

I hope that anyone who went to school there or knows some-
body who did, will contact me so that I can include their
story on this page. And if you have an old photograph, that
of course, will be the icing on the cake.


MICKEY LA LONDE e-mailed the following:
I used to live on old Route 66 from 1971-'73, from Amboy to Essex
(I was in my early teens.) My father, MEL LALONDE, was
a mechanic and in those days, before I-40 went through, there
was more than enough work. I attended school in Amboy, 7th and
8th grade. Mr. Emil Billy Ford was principal and teacher for
grades 6, 7 and 8. My best friend, FRANCIS GIL's first
job was waiting on tables at Roy's. One Halloween Dad and I
took some old tires to the lip of Amboy Crater, made a cut in
them, inserted road flares and rolled them down into the
old crater. It caused a pretty big fuss when some people thought
the thing was going to blow! I don't know if the airstrip is
still there,(yes it is) but we had a little tri-pacer airplane
that we would fly to Cal-Nev-Ari. Dad liked the pancake breakfast
there, so we'd go on Sundays. He knew Mr. Burris fairly well.
Anyway, when I was attending school in Amboy, Dad was driving a
wrecker for Cadiz summit, it's burned down since, nothing left
but ruins. There used to be a busy cafe with pool table, garage
and gas station. They sold water for a dollar a gallon, about
the same price as gas, which was outrageous for that time.
A bag of ice went for $3.00. I used to make a lot of money in
the summers freezing and breaking up ice. A lot of cars overheated
going east in the summer heat, city folk running their air
conditioners, keeping Dad plenty busy that time of the year.
After the cafe and garage burned down we moved to Danby (the place
with the mountain man mural on the door.) We parked a mobile home
next to it, Dad rented the building and set up shop. We used to
meet some really interesting people through Dad's business.
I remember Bob Denver ("Gilligan") stopping by for repairs,
autographing a paper plate, and overall a pretty nice guy.
I had to transfer to a school in Needles at that time because the
bus from Amboy didn't run that far Mom still had to take me as
far as Essex to catch the bus. Talking about no-man's land!
As I-40 inched its way westward, we kept just ahead of it,
witnessing the death throes of some amazing communities like
Truxton, AZ. But we also saw some creative triumphs like Oatman, AZ
where they turned a weird commodity like wild burros into a tourist
attraction...... hard to tell who was gonna make it and who wasn't.
I got on this reminiscence kick while trying to find a friend of mine.
Her name is ELEANOR WHITESINGER, and she lived in Cadiz.
They are Navajo and her father worked for the Santa Fe railroad.
I now live in the coastal mountains of Oregon where I can have all the
water I want, it just falls out of the sky for FREE!

This is Desert Dutch:
If anyone knows FRANCIS GIL or ELEANOR WHITESINGER
or wants to get in touch with MICKEY LA LONDE e-mail her at:
Shinyglass

CHURCH

Makes one wonder how many babies have been baptized here and
how many couples were married in this church.


AMBOY CRATER

Less than 2 miles roughly to the west of Amboy stands this
crater. Considered a youngster among the dormant craters and
believed to have been active as late as 500 years ago.
The crater and the surrounding area is public land under the
management of the BLM. Therefore you are FREE to camp here.
Take care while driving on the dirt road, it has soft spots!


BLM MARKER

CRACKER JACK
Ah, THE ULTIMATE FREEDOM!
When Desert Dog Dutchess and I drove up to his camp at the
outskirts of Amboy, he was sitting in the shade of his travel
trailer. It was the only shade for miles around.
"Jack," he introduced himself "Cracker Jack. My mother used
to call me Fire-cracker Jack. I must have been a handful back
then. But the "fire" has left me some years ago so now it is
just plain ol' Cracker Jack." He smiled, exposing his three remaining front teeth.
"And this here is Lucky." pointing at an old dog who was
lying next to his chair, too lazy to get up when she
growled at us to make sure that Dutchess understood the
pecking order at this place.
"How lucky was Lucky when you found her?" I asked, wanting
to hear a great story. "Got her from the pound in Brawley." he answered.

Cracker Jack did not want his picture taken. "Too many out-
there lookin' for me. Especially women!"
And again he gave me one of his dazzling smiles.
I respected his wishes and kept my camera from pointing in
his direction.

His camp was not too far from the foot of Amboy Crater, a
rugged piece of land where only the hardiest kind of vegeta-
tion can survive. Mainly creosote bushes, said to be one of
the older shrubs around. According to a study conducted by
Frank C. Vasek, Ph.D. Department of Botany and Plant Sciences
at the University of California, Riverside. Quote: "A new
line of evidence indicates that clones of creosote bush may
have been continuously in residence in the Southwest Mojave
Desert for nearly 12,000 years." End of quote.
That must have been why, I thought, that Cracker Jack and
Lucky blended right into the landscape as if they were part
of it. Two true boondockers camped in the real boondocks.
Nothing but the fast open desert surrounding them.

"When I was a boy my family moved around a lot. Followed the
harvest. There was hardly time for school. I learned my al-
phabet from the Burma Shave signs along the road. Those were
hard times but you know something? They were the best years
of my life. Those years growing up and my stretch in the
Navy during the war. It must have been during that time that
I picked up my love to travel."

I offered him an ice-cold beer which he eagerly accepted.
A beer for Cracker Jack and a dog biscuit for Lucky.

"Yes sir," he went on, "was married a couple of times but
no woman could keep up with me or wanted to. Tell me mister,
what lady in her right mind would want to live like this?"
With that he made a sweeping gesture towards his old travel
trailer and rusty pick-up truck.

Just before we left Cracker Jack and Lucky I asked one last
time: "Are you sure that I can't take your picture?"
His answer was: "I sure as hell AM BOY!"