My son tosses out the word ‘epic’ like bread crusts on a duck pond.
To him, it’s the ideal superlative for his latest Playstation battle or some other common pursuit. Or in the popular phrase ‘epic fail’, which is itself an epic failure in word use.
I’ll reserve it for more worthy occasions.
Like my ongoing journey along historic Route 66, hosted by Nissan Canada. At time of writing, we’ve completed the first stage, having left Chicago Sunday morning, and driving southwest for more than 600 kilometres through such bustling centres as Joliet, where you’ll find the prison that hosted both Blues Brother’s opening scenes. Then there’s Wilmington, which is home to the Gemini Giant, a 30-foot statue cradling a rocket and wearing an old propane tank as a space helmet. And don’t forget Odell – a small town… with a big heart… where everybody… is somebody.
So say the strategically placed signs.
Taking our group of Canadian journalists from points A-Z are two of Nissan’s most popular family rides – the Altima mid-size sedan and the all-wheel-drive Rogue CUV. In both cases fully dressed in SL trim with the Technology package in the former and Premium Package in the latter. ($30,148 for the Altima and $34,098 for the Rogue, excluding freight and PDE).
My co-pilot and I grabbed the Rogue for Day One. Its $2,800 Premium treatment, gave us navigation with seven-inch touchscreen (critical for any long and convoluted road trip), around view monitor, power liftgate, and an upgraded Bose audio system through which we played an iPod loaded with some of my favourite driving tunes: Radar Love by Golden Earring, Low Rider by War and Highway Star by Deep Purple.
Our adventure began at the downtown intersection of Adams Street and Michigan Avenue, following a late dinner at Chicago’s landmark Morton’s Steakhouse, and semi-sleepless night trying to digest the scrumptious slab of ribeye.
But the bracing wind snapped me out of my stupor, and the comfortable confines and heated seats of the Rogue allowed me to settle into the challenge at hand.
The perfect road trip is about more than choosing a scenic route and mentally stable driving partner. It’s about selecting a vehicle that complements your journey without undue attention from the highway patrol.
So while the potent 370Z or asphalt ripping GT-R would have been fun, Altimas and Rogues are far more likely to fly under the radar.
I had first driven the 2015 Rogue during its Canadian debut near Mont Tremblant Quebec. Conditions were abysmal, with a late January snow storm and minus 30C wind chill making the roads treacherous enough for a 47-car pileup. It fared well, by the way.
The current November morning was far less foreboding as we assembled for a group shot at the official starting point. Here, we listened to some last-minute advice from our guide, Gary Fleshman, who has traversed this loosely-knit collection of roads on more than 120 occasions.
Prior to 1926, when Route 66 began construction, there was no federal highway program to efficiently move people and goods across the U.S. Each state did its own thing.
So with the approval of the route, and the requisite federal money, roadbuilding began concurrently across participating states to create a not-so-direct pathway from the windy city to Santa Monica.
To expedite travel, three major alignments took place over the next six decades, with various sections being replaced by a more direct route. But the wider, straighter interstates gradually took over, and Route 66 – which brought people and prosperity to many small towns across the America – was finally decommissioned in 1985.
Fleshman pointed out that although the road system is said to be around 4,000 km, its many fragments comprise roughly 10,000 and he has travelled them all. Start to finish takes about seven and a half weeks if you stop at each point of interest and chat with the locals.
We had seven days.
I’ve already mentioned a few early waypoints (we couldn’t stop at the prison), and there were plenty more as our day took us back and forth between Route 66 and the faster interstate highways.
We glimpsed a few decommissioned sections of the old route running parallel to the current system. No longer used, they’re still in surprisingly good shape having been made from Portland cement, which is stronger and denser than regular concrete – or asphalt.
Regardless of surface, the Rogue’s independent front strut/rear multilink suspension (with stabilizer bars) provided a smooth, forgiving ride comparable to any mid-priced family sedan. The high seating position offers a commanding view of the road, and although there’s some body roll in the turns, you’re not buying a Rogue for carving corners.
Minimal wind and road noise penetrates the passenger cabin, although there’s a slight rasp from the exhaust when you plant the pedal and the standard equipped CVT “kicks down” to simulate the feel of an automatic transmission.
Acceleration is modest. The Rogue’s DOHC 16-valve 2.5-litre four cylinder engine (170 hp, 175 lb/ft of torque) won’t tweak your adrenaline, but Sport mode allows the CVT to spin up a little higher for better launch and passing.
Just before our lunch in Atlanta (Illinois, not Georgia), we stopped in at the Gunnar Mast Trading Post - packed floor-to-ceiling with Route 66 memorabilia: highway signs, license plates and assorted tchotchke.
A few streets over, we tucked into some traditional diner grub. The menu said “pannini” but I really got a chicken sandwich on white with cheese spread. Nothing fancy, but not bad.
Frequent stops on our first day meant we had to abandon Route 66 for at least part of the afternoon. Cutting over to Interstate 55 made up a lot of time, but we rejoined the historic road near St. Louis and on to the “Chain of Rocks” road.
Fleshman’s reputation as tour guide extraordinaire granted us the privilege of driving across the 5,000-foot-long Chain of Rocks Bridge, normally closed to vehicular traffic. It crosses the Mississippi River into ‘Mizzourah,’ which I’m assured is the correct pronunciation.
From there, our group beelined it to Cuba, MO where the Wagon Wheel Motel awaited our stay, and neigbouring Missouri Hick Bar-B-Q promised copious servings of meat.
Which should fuel us for the next day’s trek where we’d encounter the world’s largest rocking chair, the human inspiration for “Mater” (the tow truck from the movie, Cars) and more vintage Americana on the way to Tulsa, Oklahoma.
And of course, more meat.
Stay tuned for Part Two of this journey in next week’s Wheels.
This article originally appeared on Wheels.ca: https://www.wheels.ca/
Neil Moore is a seasoned automotive journalist who is hesitant to reveal precisely how many ‘seasons.’ His passion for all things automotive has been published in many newspapers, magazines and websites – a mix of articles that inform, entertain and occasionally stir the pot. Neil is also a member of AJAC (Automobile Journalists Association of Canada).
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