The deal was done. I had schemed with my parents’ next door neighbors to collect intel. The neighbor’s job: To find out if my parents had enough firewood to make it through the winter.
Word from the bird was, “They do not. Christmas present idea is a roger, Dodger.” (We kept our fingers crossed that they wouldn’t purchase more before Christmas!)
We Craigslist shopped, entertained the idea of driving to Stroud to cut the wood ourselves, and then finally found wood in Chandler for a good price. Next task: get the wood. With only two days before Christmas, I needed a break and hopped in the truck with Hubby to go get said firewood. And, was so glad I did.
Why? Because a Route 66 treasure known as the “Seaba Station Motorcycle Museum” needed to be visited by me. Well, that’s what I told Hubby on the way back from Chandler. Anything having to do with motorcycles piques my interest. The fact that the museum is housed within an old DX station ON Route 66 made it even better.
I spoke with one of the co-owners while there and heard the story of how the museum came to be. Evidently, he used to drive down the road quite a bit and noticed there was an antique shop at that location. However, the hours were sporadic and he was never able to stop in and peruse the goods. One day, however, he did what was probably like a Laurel and Hardy double-take…because there was a for sale sign posted in front of that dreamy Route 66 service station property.
I added the dreamy part. Notice none of that sentence is in quotation marks.
Curious, he stopped in to see the building. He was surprised to see the space inside was much bigger than he had imagined when driving down the road. Well, he had a friend who had a motorcycle collection and they had always wanted to put together a museum. See where this is going? One thing led to another conversation which led to…an offer on the property within just a few days.
It was theirs. But then the hard work started. Remodeling is always…well, it’s a thing. Indeed.
Two years later, however, the doors opened. And, they’ve been open for about 18 months. Just long enough for me to wander by, beg Hubby to stop, start asking a bunch of questions, and take a few photos.
Want to see them? Don’t answer that. I’ll just show them to you!
I’m going to stop there. I don’t want to give away too many of their secrets. However, I will TELL you about a few other cool facts.
- There is a large wicker motorcycle on display in the front room that’s way cool.
- I bought hot wheels for my children’s stockings in the gift shop for a great price.
- The outside is beautiful, the place has a great history, and most all of that story is documented (along with the remodel) on their website.
- There is a bench out front so you can plant your body for a while and watch the cars meander down the highway. I pretended it was 1922, the year after the place was built, and I was in my flapper dress. I’m sharing this with you in case you find yourself at a loss for images while you’re sitting.
When I was younger, my Uncle Wayne used to have a quasi-collection of antique motorcycles. He was a mechanic and one of the Weavers Brothers of Weaver’s Brothers garage, another Route 66 treasure. My brother and I used to go with our cousins out to the back garage and touch the chrome on the motorcycles. Sometimes, we would sit on them. If I recall family narrative correctly, he used to race them on the Canadian River beds. That may be one of the reasons I wanted to stop, but the reason I’ll go back again is because Gerald Tims and Jerry Ries did a great job with the place.
P.S. Here’s a bonus photo… Someone on Route 66 is living in a repurposed boxcar. Good for them! Can you see the Christmas stockings hanging in the window?