A Few Travel Memories
Travel was always an adventure in my family. For the fun trips (camping or going to a national park) the journey was mostly by car. That included hours of enjoying the spectacle that is the American west while scanning an AM radio for whatever I could find.
It also meant nights looking up at an Arizona or Utah night sky through the spectacularly huge rear window of our 1960 Chevrolet Impala.
Until 1966 or so air travel was avoided as Mom was reluctant to fly. After 1967 (when we got her a 30 minute flight around the SF Bay and she came to realize she loved to fly) it was still pretty much reserved only for major family events such as weddings and funerals.
So my memories of my own father sort of came down to goal oriented travel.
Dad's idea of travel was the destination. We made it to the World's Fair. We made it to Crater Lake.
He was all about the technical aspects of the journey. We made "good time". We made "good gas mileage". The new travel trailer "pulled well and nothing overheated".
And then there was just the "dad part". When we traveled in our Travel/Eze trailer we could not avoid his epic snoring. I spent many nights sleeping on nearby picnic tables instead of in that rolling aluminum acoustic nightmare.
One night at the age of 14 or so I woke up on my picnic table top about 4:30 am staring straight into the heroic cleavage of a hooker leaning over me working the rest stops. I let her know my interest was limited to sleep and rolled over.
At breakfast I informed mom and dad of my nocturnal adventure in Hoosier hospitality and dad just smiled. I said "what?" and he confessed he'd had trouble sleeping and saw her approach me and chose not to intervene adding that he was pretty interested to see how the event would unfold.
To those who will be in the company of their dad's today, put down your cell phones and treasure the now!
To those, like me, who've said goodbye to you're fathers, enjoy the memories!
Mom and Dad Yosemite 1945 / Shingle Springs California 1988
Roadboy's Travels © 2017