Doug Clark: Billy Burger puts Wilbur on the map

Spokane has the Clock Tower.

Seattle has its Space Needle.

And anyone cruising Lincoln County on U.S. Highway 2 knows what inimitable landmark the town of Wilbur lays claim to.

Only the best danged sign to ever grace a fast food joint.

Billy Burgers Drive-In, that is.

Standing out in front is the singular neon and steel depiction of a fat, grinning baby.

The name Billy Burgers adorns the plump toddler’s cap in bright red. A flashing arrow points the way to the restaurant.

The corpulent kid seems to tell all travelers:

“Abandon appetites all ye who enter here.”

Billy Burgers is the genuine article.

It is a wholesome throwback to the days before cookie-cutter chains like Burger King and McDonald’s spread their boring plastic sameness across the land.

I’m a big time Billy Burgers booster.

So much so that when Bob Lonn invited me to play guitar with his band for the drive-in’s rock-and-roll reopening, I said: “What time do you want me there?”

The famed eatery was closed two months this winter when an electrical fire belched soot and smoke throughout the interior. The doors opened again in March. But that didn’t seem like enough pizzazz to Lonn.

He approached Billy Burgers owners Kathy and Larry Clark (no relation) about holding a “Still Rockin’ Sock Hop and Car/Cycle Rally” as a welcome back.

They said sure, and the game was afoot.

And so I sat in with the Cool Waters Band.

I sang the “Lovesick Blues” and played along with oldies such as “At the Hop.”

What a great day it turned out to be.

Kathy made poodle skirts for all her waitresses.

A steady stream of customers came to enjoy the sunshine and music and say howdy.

Classic car owners lined the parking area with their cool rides.

I even brought my electric blue ‘73 Dodge Dart that my momma gave me last week.

You’ll all be happy to note that it got me to Wilbur just fine. Once I used up half a can of spray starter fluid to get it out of the garage, that is.

When will I ever learn?

I met some fascinating people at the Billy Burgers bash.

Sherry Ennis, for example, claimed to be the 1960 Wilbur hula hoop champ.

Sherry told me she was headed for gyrating greatness until she was disqualified in a Spokane hoop-off for using too many hoops.

You never quite get over the pain of something like that.

I saw my friends Bonnie and Roger Jensen.

Bonnie is a former mayor of Wilbur. Her father, Bill Bell, built Billy Burgers in 1955 and named it after his infant son.

Bonnie’s husband, Roger, holds a special place in my heart. Years ago (against my better judgment) I agreed to let the man take me rattlesnake hunting.

Roger led me up a rocky incline toward a bush. As we approached our destination I kept hearing this strange buzzing sound.

Roger soldiered on, oblivious to the noise.

So I ignored it, too. After all, Roger was the great snake hunter.

Then two feet from the bush, 30 or so fanged and poisonous reptiles came slithering like something out of a horror film.

Later, I learned that Roger was hard of hearing. He couldn’t pick up the rattler frequency.

All I know is that I never came so close to wetting myself.

My last visit to Wilbur was in July. I dropped in to take a gander at those mysterious crop circles that turned up in a wheat field outside of town.

It looked to me more like the handiwork of rapscallions rather than ET. Either way, the circles were a boon to Billy Burgers’ business.

The “Alien Burger with Invasion Rings” Kathy added to the menu sold hotter than a solar flare.

The Alien Burger has Swiss cheese, crispy bacon and fresh mushrooms. I know because I scarfed one down Saturday. It was one of the best burgers I have ever eaten.

The Clarks are celebrating their 15th year of running the drive-in. They are the fourth owners.

Open seven days a week, Billy Burgers is a magnet for visitors from all points of the globe who drop in for a bite and to marvel over Kathy’s collection of hundreds and hundreds of salt and pepper shakers.

You know what? If the Wilburians were smart they’d give their hamlet a more appropriate name.

Oh, yeah. How about…

Wilburger.