Drive to California

In 1972, a year after my ex-wife Bonita and I had made a one month trip to Europe (see blog post Europe 1971), we decided to drive to California.  We wanted to see our own country, not from a seat on an airplane thousands of feet up, but down on the ground in a car.  But, not just any car.

My Corvair, the used car (my first car) I had bought five years before, was wearing out.  To drive across country required a brand new car, one in tip top condition.  So, we bought a green, Fiat 124 Sport Coupe.  

The problem with the above purchase was this car had standard transmission, a stick shift.  Neither Bonita nor I knew how to drive it.  So, we signed up for lessons in a Volkswagen Beetle which is an easy car to drive.  After a few, I went to the Fiat dealership on Northern Boulevard to pick up our new car.  

However, much to my chagrin, I couldn't get the car off their lot.  I kept stalling out.  The salesman was very kind and took me for a drive around the block.  Finally, I was able to head home.  I stalled out at every red light on the way.  But, I made it and we started our drive to California a few days later.

The first day we drove about 500 miles to Durham, North Carolina.  I chose this location because of Duke University, which we toured.  Little did I know I would return to the area to live and work 35 years later.

Day two saw us travel 385 miles to Atlanta, Georgia.  We visited a tourist attraction (shopping and entertainment) called Underground Atlanta, which opened in 1969.  It closed last August.  My niece, Karen, who was not yet born, has lived with her family in the Atlanta area for many years.

On the third day, we drove 470 miles to New Orleans, Louisiana.  I remember driving through Alabama (the only time in my life I was there) and stopping at a bank in a small town to get some cash.  We drove across Lake Pontchartrain and into The Big Easy.  I saw the Mississippi River for the first time and ate dinner at a restaurant specializing in gumbo.

Next we drove up through Bayou country in Louisiana passing Baton Rouge and then Shreveport before heading west into Texas.  While still in Louisiana, Bonita had to stop for a bathroom break at a general store, which unfortunately didn't have indoor plumbing.  We stopped for the night in Dallas after driving a little over 500 miles.  This was four years before my brother Joel and his family moved there.  They have now lived in Dallas for 42 years.  But I was there first.  

On the fifth day, we took a relatively short trip of 360 miles to Amarillo where we enjoyed a good steak dinner.  It is cattle country.

Then we headed due west into New Mexico, passing numerous beautiful mesas along the way, stopping overnight in the western end of the state, in a town called Gallup after driving 425 miles.  At the time, Gallup had a population of about 15,000, the majority of whom were mostly Navajo people.  I remember shopping in a store which specialized in native American hand made jewelry.  

Early the next morning, after loading up with fruit from a Gallup supermarket, we headed west towards Arizona.  Just before dawn, we had a surreal experience.  At the border, we encountered Arizona State Police who inquired whether we had any fruit, which we acknowledged.  We then had a choice of either consuming it on the spot or leaving it with them.  We chose the latter.  I had thought the Constitution allows for the free and unobstructed transportation of goods from one state to another.  Apparently not.

We then drove to the Grand Canyon which is the most beautiful natural creation I have ever seen.  It took my breath away, similar to my experience viewing the Champs-Elysees the previous year.  We ended the day in the most garish place on Earth, Las Vegas, Nevada (after driving a total of over 450 miles).  We had dinner at Circus, Circus, walked into a casino, put down a $1 bet on a roulette wheel, lost and returned to our nondescript motel.

The next morning we drove west through a desert for about 270 miles before finally reaching our destination, Los Angeles, California.  I remember a sign while driving which said "no gas next 90 miles."  There was nothing but sand and cactus.  We stopped in Baker, California, which consisted of a gas station and a diner.  We used both.

In our three days in LA, we hit some of the usual tourist locations: Disneyland, Grauman's Chinese Theater, Hollywood and Vine, Beverly Hills, the Los Angeles Coliseum, etc.  We dined at a restaurant owned by Sonny (and Cher).  At one point, the owner walked past us and smiled.

Then we took gorgeous route 101 for 380 miles up the coast to San Francisco, stopping at Malibu Beach and San Simeon, where we stepped into the Pacific Ocean and saw (from a distance) the Hearst Castle.

The highlight of my stay in the bay area was a baseball game at Candlestick Park, then the home of my lifelong favorite team, the San Francisco Giants.  It is the only Giant home game I have ever been to and it was the only time I ever saw the great Roberto Clemente in person.

However, my lasting impression of the game was the weather.  I was dressed (t-shirt and shorts) for a summer time game in New York City, but I was in San Francisco.  The fans around me wore winter jackets and were under blankets.  Mark Twain was credited as saying, "The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco."  I suffered from the wind and the cold air for three hours.  Thankfully, the Giants won the game, 7-0. 

Leaving California, we took route 80 East 380 miles to Winnemucca, a small town in northern Nevada which consisted of some gas stations, motels and three casinos, which we didn't enter.

The following day we drove 355 miles, past the Bonneville Salt Flats, the Great Salt Lake and the Wasatch Range to Salt Lake City, Utah.  We visited the Temple Square and the Tabernacle in the downtown area.   

Next, we then drove 535 miles through the Rocky Mountains to Denver, Colorado.  I remember almost nothing about that day.

The following day, it was on to Omaha, Nebraska, a distance of about 540 miles.  Nearby, we visited Boys Town, the village made famous by the Spencer Tracy, Mickey Rooney 1938 film of the same name which I had seen many times.  It is the true story of a home for delinquent and underprivileged boys founded by Father Edward Flanagan (Tracy).  Why only for boys?       

After re-crossing the Mississippi River, we reached Chicago, Illinois (470 miles).  We drove around a bit, seeing Lake Michigan and the Sears Tower.  

Our tour of the USA was about over.  We stopped in Detroit, Michigan (280 miles) to visit Bonita's family.  The next day we drove to our home in New York City (615 miles).  In total, our brand new Fiat had covered over 7,000 miles from New York to California and back with no problem.  It was a fantastic, never to be forgotten journey across our beautiful country.