Occasionally we stopped to see something interesting during our trip west in 1952. I remember the Petrified Forest best.
Historic Route 66 passed right through what was then a National Monument, one of Teddy Roosevelt's gifts to our nation. I was fascinated with those old quartz tree trunks. I had never seen anything like them and, like much of the west, I was learning something new everywhere I looked. We stayed long enough for Len and me to get a good look, then we drove on.
We stopped for a few days in Pasadena. Again, I had never seen anything like that place. There were palm trees in people's back yards! We stayed with the Roddy's. Clarence Roddy, then a homiletics professor at Fuller Seminary, had been Mom and Dad's pastor in Portland, Maine and his wife was a significant mentor to my Mom. They had a lemon tree and a fig tree in their backyard. I had my first fig. An acquired taste, they are good when they are ripe right from the tree.
Except for being smooshed in the Plymouth, the whole trip was an adventure of discovery.
Showing posts with label Trip West. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Trip West. Show all posts
Monday, December 17, 2007
West of St. Louis
I had been to Chicago by train, so getting to Chicago was no big deal. We stayed with an older woman who was a supporter of the mission. I think we had stayed with her before. I don't know how long we stayed in Chicago, but it was for a few days, kind of a respite from being smooshed in that Plymouth.
We got back into the Plymouth and headed for St. Louis. Route 66! Chicago to LA on one romantic road. When the TV series Route 66 came on many years later, I would watch and could say, "I've been there, I remember that." Route 66 was everything they say it was and more. I have great memories and horrible memories of that road, but I am glad that I experienced what is really a bygone era.
I don't have too many memories of the route between Chicago and St. Louis. At the time Chicago was as far west as I had been, but when we left St. Louis we were going into the unknown, we were going into the wild west. I had read about the homesteaders leaving St. Louis to stake a claim and begin a new life. So, I was full of anticipation as the man or my Dad headed the car west.
Just the high spots. The road took a 90 degree turn in Oklahoma City right in front of the state's capital. And, yes there were oil wells right there on the capital grounds! Lots of them.
Texas is far from my favorite state. I'll tell you why. Route 66 cuts across the Texas panhandle, and at the time it was truly God forsaken country. We stopped at some small town for some of that bologna and bread, but there was no place to have a picnic lunch. So the adults decided to keep driving west; we certainly could find somewhere to stop. After what seemed like hours there was one tree by the side of the road. As the car slowed to a stop, you could plainly see a curled rattlesnake under that tree. Hours (or so it seemed to a ten year old) later we found another tree, this time with a picnic table and no rattlesnake.
I remember Albuquerque, New Mexico and Flagstaff, Arizona. The Plymouth broke down in one of those towns and we spent a pretty long day there while the car was on a lift.
Dry. Texas, New Mexico and Arizona were all dry. Two things stick out. Since the desert was dry and hot, and since cars in those days could be expected to break down, you hung a canvas bag or two of water from the hood ornament. The bag was not waterproof, so the bag would sweat and as you drove along at 50 or 60, the water cooled and was at least somewhat tolerable for drinking. More importantly, you could top off your radiator when necessary.
Dry. Somewhere along the way in the desert we stopped at a gas station. We were thirsty, so Mom or Dad paid 10 cents for a glass of water for us. The water was nasty, so I could only take about 2/3 of the glass. I threw the rest on the ground. This was before CPR, but the guy who sold us the water almost had a heart attack! I learned something about how precious water can be that day. Maybe that's one of the reasons that I don't drink a lot of the stuff. That's another story.
When we got past the desert we were pretty deep in California. Suddenly there was more of that water stuff (never mind that they got it from Colorado) and it was green again. I remember that the carrots in the trucks were as long as my forearm. I swear!
Remember that I was only 10 years old. I stand by my story.
We got back into the Plymouth and headed for St. Louis. Route 66! Chicago to LA on one romantic road. When the TV series Route 66 came on many years later, I would watch and could say, "I've been there, I remember that." Route 66 was everything they say it was and more. I have great memories and horrible memories of that road, but I am glad that I experienced what is really a bygone era.
I don't have too many memories of the route between Chicago and St. Louis. At the time Chicago was as far west as I had been, but when we left St. Louis we were going into the unknown, we were going into the wild west. I had read about the homesteaders leaving St. Louis to stake a claim and begin a new life. So, I was full of anticipation as the man or my Dad headed the car west.
Just the high spots. The road took a 90 degree turn in Oklahoma City right in front of the state's capital. And, yes there were oil wells right there on the capital grounds! Lots of them.
Texas is far from my favorite state. I'll tell you why. Route 66 cuts across the Texas panhandle, and at the time it was truly God forsaken country. We stopped at some small town for some of that bologna and bread, but there was no place to have a picnic lunch. So the adults decided to keep driving west; we certainly could find somewhere to stop. After what seemed like hours there was one tree by the side of the road. As the car slowed to a stop, you could plainly see a curled rattlesnake under that tree. Hours (or so it seemed to a ten year old) later we found another tree, this time with a picnic table and no rattlesnake.
I remember Albuquerque, New Mexico and Flagstaff, Arizona. The Plymouth broke down in one of those towns and we spent a pretty long day there while the car was on a lift.
Dry. Texas, New Mexico and Arizona were all dry. Two things stick out. Since the desert was dry and hot, and since cars in those days could be expected to break down, you hung a canvas bag or two of water from the hood ornament. The bag was not waterproof, so the bag would sweat and as you drove along at 50 or 60, the water cooled and was at least somewhat tolerable for drinking. More importantly, you could top off your radiator when necessary.
Dry. Somewhere along the way in the desert we stopped at a gas station. We were thirsty, so Mom or Dad paid 10 cents for a glass of water for us. The water was nasty, so I could only take about 2/3 of the glass. I threw the rest on the ground. This was before CPR, but the guy who sold us the water almost had a heart attack! I learned something about how precious water can be that day. Maybe that's one of the reasons that I don't drink a lot of the stuff. That's another story.
When we got past the desert we were pretty deep in California. Suddenly there was more of that water stuff (never mind that they got it from Colorado) and it was green again. I remember that the carrots in the trucks were as long as my forearm. I swear!
Remember that I was only 10 years old. I stand by my story.
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