First stop: Illinois, land of Abe Lincoln, deep-dish debates, and Lucca Grill, a 1936 legend with a crust so thin it might vanish. Step into this checkered time capsule, grab a cold beer, and enjoy square-cut pizza that proves in Illinois, geometry tastes better with cheese.

Next up: St. Louis, where the locals put Provel on their pizza and dare you to love it. Imo’s is the mothership of this regional rebel pie, think wafer-thin crust, sweet-ish sauce, and that gooey, smoky, Provel cheese (a processed ménage à trois of provolone, Swiss, and cheddar).

Kansas claims only a sliver of the Mother Road, but it packs in the flavor. Bricks & Brews is a wood-fired gem with pies that blister beautifully at high heat. Picture a crust that’s equal parts chewy and charred, topped with local ingredients and baked like it means it. Don't forget to order the cheesy bacon jalapeno breadsticks!

In Tulsa’s Meadow Gold district, Empire Slice Shop serves up slices with swagger. It’s pizza meets punk rock: bold flavors, loud décor, and names like “Notorious P.I.G.” and “Joezilla.” The crust is New York-style, but the attitude is all Oklahoma. And if you’re not full after a slice the size of a license plate, you’re doing it wrong.

Amarillo may be better known for 72-ounce steak challenges, but those in the know veer slightly off 66 for 575° Pizzeria. The name is a nod to the oven temp, and boy, does it deliver. Expect airy yet structured crusts with that holy grail: the leopard-spot char. Order the Truffled Shuffle or the Local Yocal and toast to the open road with a craft beer!

You haven’t really been to New Mexico until you’ve eaten something smothered in green chile—and yes, that includes pizza. At Dion’s, a local institution with fast-casual vibes and cult-level loyalty, you can customize your pie and throw some of that magical green fire right on top.

Station 66 is a stylish little haunt with wood-fired pizzas and serious Grand Canyon gateway vibes. Housed in a historic service station (of course), it’s got outdoor seating, wine flights, and pies that toe the line between Neapolitan and Americana. Grab a Margherita and watch the sun paint the red rocks golden.

Casa Bianca, in the charming Eagle Rock neighborhood, has been slinging pies since 1955. It’s the kind of old-school, red-sauce joint where time slows down, garlic hangs heavy in the air, and nobody cares about your gluten sensitivity. The crust is crispy, the cheese is molten, and the sausage is homemade. Get there early—it’s cash-only, lines out the door, and 100% worth it.