Barstow Station off Interstate 15 on way to Las Vegas a retail oasis

I have driven the long black ribbon of Interstate 15 for countless years.

Truly, I can’t count how many eons I have ventured on that expressway going here or there. And yet, when I pass by the wonderful city of Barstow, I have never stopped and peek at the ‘World Famous Barstow Station’ on East Main Street.

Shame on me.

I have driven by it many times and smiled. It does look interestingly attractive and sort of hodge-podge in a good way, which brings a smile to my face.

Actual train cars used in the site's construction seemed pretty iconic and fun.

My lovely wife, Laureen, and main traveling companion when I had a traveling companion, asked why I had never stopped at Barstow Station.

I did not have a good reason.

“I don’t have a good reason,” I said.

“You should,” Laureen replied. “It’s quite famous, you know.”

I didn’t and was not sure why it would be.

“And the caboose is the main male restroom,” she said.

Now, THAT was the reason I was waiting for.

Fred Rosenberg, a man with an astute business sense, saw all the traffic running by Barstow along Interstate 15 and knew those travelers would be hungry as they rolled through his city. Especially those gamblers heading home from Las Vegas.

I’m not sure gamblers would be any more hungry than non-gamblers, but I thought I’d throw that in. It is a two-and-a-half-hour drive under the best circumstances. Time enough to work up a little appetite for something.

Rosenberg had acquired a McDonald's restaurant in the 1960s and decided to expand the complex.

Rumor has it that Rosenberg may have won that restaurant from Ray Kroc, the marketing guy and eventual owner of the McDonald’s empire, in a high-stakes poker game.

Kroc, known for wheeling and dealing when it came to making a profit, may have looked over the table at Rosenberg and stated, “I’ll see your two Big Macs and raise you three-Quarter Pounders.”

Rosenberg simply laid down his hand and revealed the full menu.

So, recently while driving toward Las Vegas, I decided to stop at the Barstow Station, grab a bite of breakfast, and check things out for myself.

I was glad I did.

Despite being considered one of the world's most prominent McDonald's restaurants, Rosenberg was still unsatisfied. No, he wanted something so unique that his business would become world-famous.

Since Barstow had long been a railroad hub, and his restaurant sat nearly on top of the tracks, Rosenberg decided to utilize the location to make his mark in the world.

“I shall build a complex that will be a marvel to all who pass by,” he may have said.

And so, he did.

In 1975, Barstow Station officially opened, and what a place it turned out to be for those road-weary travelers heading either north or south along the lonely desert stretches of Interstate 15. Or even the cousins heading east or west along Interstate 40 —can’t leave out the cousins.

Rosenberg had the entire place resemble a train station. Sixteen train cars were huddled together to duplicate a Santa Fe railroad stop.

A firm from San Francisco was hired to develop the plans for the complex, and they went rails over ties on this contract.

That’s railroad jargon, which the architectural firm had to learn from day one.

“What are those long steely-looking things that choo-choos run on?” One architect was heard asking a brawny engine driver.

“That would be the rails.”

The train cars used for the project were well-insulated and past their prime — wait, that sounds like me.

In 1974, local crews began to haul each car, which weighed nearly 175,000 pounds each, to the location where they would be carefully placed next to the previous car that had been delivered. After months of this tedious and exact science, the complex was finished, and the Barstow Station came to life.

I wandered a bit, but it was too early in the morning for any shopping. Suddenly I thought of Laureen and knew if she had been along for this short tour, she would have had me wait until the numerous gift and traveler shops opened.

“The kids would love this t-shirt that says, ‘Where’s Barstow?’”

Only McDonald's was open, and I grabbed a coffee to wander around with - they have good coffee.

There were other eateries such as Panda Express, Subway, Popeyes Chicken, and other places where a person could grab a few calories of candy, ice cream, or other things our doctors tell us not to have.

Since it was early, I’m an early riser, so I decided to hang out with Zoltar, the fortune teller near the caboose.

He challenged me by asking why I didn’t want my fortune told.

The iconic bearded man, who seemed out of a scene of Arabian Nights, sat encased in his glass cell, taunting me.

“Why are you such a sissy boy,” Zoltar said in his demeaning, husky mechanical voice. “Are you afraid of your future?”

I pondered it momentarily, took out a $5 bill, and waved it in front of the glass. “Come and get it,” I replied.

“My future is deemed terrible,” he responded.

I didn’t want to smile, but I did.

The rail cars used were refrigerated units, which meant they were well-insulated and perfect for the summer heat of Barstow. Luckily when Rosenberg decided to use them, the railway was about to junk them for new and more efficient models.

He got a great deal.

A crew was hired, and they devised and built rail tracks to deliver the cars to the current location. There are 17 cars at Barstow Station now, the caboose being the 17th.

Wandering around the massive interior of the station, I recalled an article stating the place was rather run-down, but it was the furthest thing from the truth. Everything was shining and clean, offering visitors anything they may have wanted.

Well, not everything; that would be too much for anyone to expect, even from the Rosenberg family, who still runs the complex today.

While snapping some photos at the station, a younger man approached me and asked if I was a journalist.

“I have been known to write some decent prose in my day,” I replied.

“No, you just happened to be taking photos of everything. That’s why I thought you might be a journalist.”

I snapped a photograph of his face.

Brian and his family were heading to Henderson, outside of Las Vegas, to visit his sister, who resided there.

“Do you stop here often?”

“Every time we see my sister, about four times a year,” Brian said. “Our kids love the place, especially our son, who pretends he’s riding the rails.”

I glanced over at Brian’s children, a young boy and a girl standing with their mother in line at McDonald’s.

“Kind of an interesting place,” I said.

“Very unique,” he replied. “Did you see they have a Zoltar fortune teller here?”

I nodded. “We had words.”

He quizzically glanced at me. I did not elaborate. “Ever since that movie ‘Big’ with Tom Hanks, this Zoltar thing has become popular again.”

So popular, my research showed that a Zoltar fortune teller could cost well above $10,000. That is a lot of fortune-telling.

Brian left to join his family, and I wandered a bit more, snapping a photo here and there.

As I walked through the complex, I wondered how many folks from around the world had walked in the same spots as I was doing this day.

What countries had they ventured from to visit the United States, to see all this great country has to offer, and then to find themselves in the little town of Barstow, California, and more precisely, at the Barstow Station?

I knew they would not be disappointed at what America had to offer travelers, just as I knew they were not disappointed to wander the interior and exterior of the Barstow Station.

It was an excellent stop and one I will make again soon.

And yes, I did use the caboose before I left.

This article originally appeared on Victorville Daily Press: Barstow Station off Interstate 15 on way to Las Vegas a retail oasis