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Praetorium Honoris

Thursday, February 8, 2024

Driving ... (Part the First)

Opel GT
(Source)
Travel, it's something I've done a lot of - by boat, by plane, by train, and (of course) by automobile. Usually I was the guy behind the wheel for 99.99% of those trips by car. But there was this one time ...

So, There I Was¹ ...

Lowry AFB, Colorado, December, 1975 - I was a lowly airman one stripe attending tech school for to (theoretically) learn how to maintain the weapons control system on the mighty F-4D Phantom II. Christmas was upon us and, this being the Air Force, we were looking forward to two weeks (or was it ten days) away.

Now a buddy of mine from my home town was also at Lowry and he too was heading back to Vermont for the holidays. The difference in our situations (other than career fields) was that he was on his way to his first real assignment whereas I had to return to the school for another couple of months.

So we would be driving in his car, he had a vehicle very similar to the one depicted in the opening photo. So keep that in mind, he's leaving to go to another assignment. Some things he would have the Air Force ship to his gaining base, he would need to take some things with him. Again, it's a small car.

Now I was attending class from 1500 to 2100², which was a sweet deal for me and my classmates. But ...

The school staff did not want people to leave school to drive without having a full eight hours of rest prior to doing so. I mean their hearts were in the right place, but ...

I explained that I wasn't going to be driving, my buddy was (well, for the first eight hours or so that was true, we planned on driving straight through, no stops, I would probably be driving later in the trip, which I did, for about an hour). The powers that be said that unless I had an airline ticket, I could not depart the area until eight hours after my class ended. I'll let you do the math.

My buddy was pissed off, not at me, but at my school. I myself was furious, after all I was not some snot-nosed teen for whom this was the first time away from Mommy. Nope, I was 22 years of age and had spent three years working in a factory. Damn it, I was a grown-ass man.

Guess what?

Yup, they didn't care, rules are rules.

Fortunately we were cut loose from class early. But still I had to do my eight hours of penance.

Did I sleep much? Nope, not at all.

We finally got on the road sometime in the wee hours of the morning. We left about six hours after my class had ended, our junior sergeant (three stripes in those days), all of 19 years old, had tried to make me wait two more hours before leaving.

Now in Colorado in those days, if one was under the age of 21, all one could drink was 3.2 beer. Weak stuff, I can tell you. Our sergeant relied on us for getting him "the good stuff." As he admonished me for attempting to leave early, I asked him "So who's going to buy you beer when I get back?"

Yup, headed out the door and got in my buddy's car. It was packed with seemingly all of his earthly possessions. I had a duffel bag with my clothes, not even full, but still it was tough finding space for it. But we managed.

When I slid into the passenger seat, it was pretty cramped, I literally only had enough room to put one foot on the floor, I had to rest the other atop that one. But we managed to squeeze in, and off we went into the Colorado night.

Now it was cold and there was snow on the ground. Did you know that in those days the only way you could tell that you'd left Colorado was by a sign welcoming you to Kansas. Actually I don't even think there was one of those (we were on I-70). Modern day street view has a sign at the border which says "Sherman County Line," Sherman County is in Kansas. But there was this ...

(Source)
At least that sign is there now, might not have been back in the day.

Can you imagine, being in a very small car, at night, out on the Great Plains, it's cold, it's snowy and oh my word is it FLAT. At least it seemed pretty flat to a couple of Vermonters.

So Kansas went by in a blur, lots of farmhouses surrounded by trees, no doubt to cut the wind, and miles and miles of rolling prairie. Northern Missouri, after Kansas City, wasn't much different. It wasn't until we'd crossed the Mississippi that things began to look more "civilized." if you will. (Think more built up, more infrastructure.)

We stopped to get food, might have been a chicken place, might have been a burger place. We were both running pretty ragged at that point. I remember asking the girl behind the counter what state we were in.

"Uh, Indiana?" as if she wasn't all that sure.

Then my buddy said, "That's gotta be right, we just drove through St. Louis."

We got our food and left. I often wonder if that girl grew up to tell her grandchildren of the night two morons descended out of the night asking where they were. I know I would remember that.

Now Indiana is pretty flat, but as I recall it was night again and it had started to snow, not heavily mind you but enough to make us slightly nervous about the road ahead. We crossed through Indiana, where I took the wheel for about an hour while my buddy slept. He woke up to ask why we were stopped.

I confessed to nearly falling asleep which is why I had pulled over, but I was good to go now. He looked at me for a second then said, "I got this, I'll drive." Which he did.

Eventually, around Columbus, we turned north for Cleveland on I-71. We stopped at a truck stop which was jam-packed with tractor trailers. We felt like a small mammal wandering among the dinosaurs.

Cleveland passed in a blur, we'd gotten off at the wrong spot and wound up going through downtown Cleveland. As it was about 3 AM, it was not a big deal. All I remember is remarking that Ohio apparently knows how to deal with snow, the roads were all well-plowed.

Then, as Bill Belichick might have said, we were on to Buffalo. We would be turning to an easterly heading on I-90 there.

Snow, holy cow, snow. I estimated a good 14 inches of fresh powder when we stopped for fuel. I remarked to the chap on duty, "Had a bit of snow last night, eh?"

He answered, "Yup, another dusting, weatherman said we should get a couple of feet in the next couple of days."

Funny guy.

But again, the roads were all well-maintained - plowed, salted and sanded, the going was excellent, even in that little Opel GT.

But heading east through New York state on I-90 was a lot like Kansas, miles and miles of nothing, but with steeper terrain and lots of trees.

Eventually we crossed into the homeland, lots of snow in Vermont, very picturesque in a pre-Christmas sort of way. As I recall the trip took about thirty hours, give or take an hour or so. We made good time.

Spent Christmas with Mom and Dad and my brothers and then headed back to Denver. I flew back and honestly I remember absolutely nothing of that return trip. I don't even remember how I got from the airport (Stapleton in those days). There might have been a shuttle to the base, I don't really remember.

Now I don't hate long, long drives ...

But I'm not a big fan either.

More to come.

Drives to San Antonio from Fort Collins, CO, and back.

Drives to Alexandria, LA from Omaha, NE, and back.

Then the last long Christmas drive, Omaha to Vermont.

Good times, however ...

My butt is sore just thinking of it.




¹ SJC applies.
² 3:00 PM to 9:00 PM for you civvies.

44 comments:

  1. The dumbest drive I ever did was when I was about 21 and driving back to school in Virginia

    I used to like to take different routes to see different parts of the country and on this route it was from Denver to St. Louis all on interstate 70

    in one drive

    it was 1200 miles, I remember that much

    And I remember about midnight in Missouri the rain was so hard the wiper could not keep the water off the windshield. I pulled off the interstate sitting on the shoulder hoping no one would rear end me

    Never again

    Personally I can't stand that driving all the way through.

    You're dead tired anyway by the time you get to your destination and you could've spent some nights in a decent motel

    That 1200 mile Drive cured me

    as for the Opal GT I'm amazed you made it through 14 inches of snow on presumably summer tires



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    1. If no one did anything stupid at 21, I'd be stunned. We've all "been there, done that."

      The Opel did have snow tires and the roads were all plowed by the time we got there.

      Tomorrow I'm planning on posting about another "straight through" drive. Said drive definitely cured me of doing that ever again.

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  2. HAHAHAHAHAHA! Sounds like my husband penned this! He pulled the same stunt while stationed at Lowry in 1973, only through a series of mishaps while flying to Miami. (Meanwhile, 24 hours later ….). Thanks for that memory. 🤣

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    1. Hhmm, I think most husbands of a certain generation have done something similar. I need to post about my Christmas 1980 "back to Korea" trip. It was, I'll say it, epic.

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  3. Lubbock to Columbus AFB 985 miles in a ‘76 Spirit of America Vega back when the 55 was the law. Did that 4 times a year. Senior year Dad got transferred to Nellis. Hot diggity I thought, it’s closer!
    It was. 984 miles. To be honest, while it wasn’t that much closer, it was an easier drive, 4 lanes all the way and not a lot of city transiting.
    Oh and I was solo.
    I feel your pain, my Brother!
    juvat

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    1. Ouch! That's a lot of miles, future training for flying the Rhino out over the Pacific!

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  4. I did that Chico CA to Visa CA drive straight through a couple of times. Took the Hwy 14 cutoff to 138 to 395 to avoid Los Angeles.For some reason I didn't mind driving 5 NORTH through LA, but going south through that mess was unpleasant.

    A couple of times on 99 and/or 5 I found myself asking a clerk at a gas station, "Where the hell am I?" Sometimes I even got a straight answer. Most memorable for me on my first trip to Chico, got to Sacramento, needed fuel, close to midnight. Traffic was FUBAR south of Sac, "I'll just fuel on the north side." Well, there wasn't anything on the north side. Until Marysville. In my 19 gallon tank I squeezed in 21 gallons. Was glad for the downhill the last quarter mile.

    Other time, coming off the Grapevine, midnightish. Doing about 80mph. CHP pulled along side to my left. I looked at him, he looked at me, shook his head, made a "slow it down" gesture. I nodded. He pulled alongside the guy ahead of me, did the same. I guess it was the end of his shift and he didn't want to deal with paperwork.

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    1. Hhmm, encounters with the local constabulary, gives me an idea for another post!

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    2. My tale was with an old Wagoneer (gas gauge didn't work). Late at night, transiting Fargo to GF, a critical gas station at Hillsboro was closed. So were the smaller towns north with the estimated fuel state critically low. Ended up helping a deputy sheriff siphon (he had a hose in his patrol car) five gallons of gas out of a County dump truck for me. Wouldn't let me pay for it either. I felt like I was an accomplice to a crime.

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    3. Cutting it pretty close there!

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  5. Crusty Old TV Tech here. Ahhh, the Thruway. Ahhh, Snow. Welcome to Western NY! Had a TDY from Griffiss one fine winter's day, going to Rochester, NY. RF Communications, doing a Design Review for some HF comm gear. So, I hit the Thruway in my 1982 Turismo. Snow was OK at first, vis ~1/4 mile in snow and blowing snow. Typical Central NY lake effect day. Then it got to "milk bottle insides" stage. Fortunately, I found a salt truck, found it by hearing the salt pellets pinging off the windshield. Followed it all the way to the exit for Rochester, wherein vis got better again. Yep, the Thruway was mostly flat and boring through Western NY, but the TA did keep it very well plowed and salted.

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    1. Following a salt truck, funny, my next post has something like that.

      They do a good job keeping up with the snow in the northern tier of states. Drove from Saratoga Springs back to Little Rhody some years back. We were up there for four days and it literally snowed at least four inches every day we were there. The plows were out there constantly. Traveling was pretty easy.

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    2. Snow Truck? What's a snow truck? We don't need no stinkin' snow truck to bring snow here!
      Salt, That's for seasoning your french fries, we don't need no stinkin' salt on anything else here!

      Until a blue norther blows through, which turns loose the idiots who have no idea how to drive on ice/snow. Best to stay home.
      juvat

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    3. Yeah, I'm guessing your rare bouts with ice would be a signal to stay home. Same up here, very few people know how to drive in winter, Hell, they can't drive on dry pavement in the summer!

      Once heard a story that a northerner had just retired and had his car all packed to head out. Next door neighbor noticed that he had a snow shovel strapped to the front of the car.

      "Why you got a snow shovel strapped to the front of your car?" the neighbor asked.

      "I'm gonna keep heading south until someone asks me, 'What's that on the front of your car?'"

      I like the story, me, I need snow every now and then, remind me of where I came from. As long as I can find someone to shovel the stuff for me!

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  6. For the last set of stuff to move from Old Home to New Home (around 1800 miles), I ended up in the family van with one elderly cat, a Labrador, a rabbit, and houseplants (as well as the stuff that would not fit anywhere else). My plan was to drive as far as I could, pull over and sleep, and then keep driving.

    Other than the cat constantly beneath my feet, we made good progress until I pulled over after 20 hours of driving or so into the rest stop. Instead of having a separate parking area from the restrooms (which was the previous rest stop, which was "under renovation"), we had to park right next to the restrooms. I closed my eyes...and immediately Syrah The Mighty started barking every time someone pulled up to park and used the restroom. I sat there trying to nap for about 30 minutes, then decided it was a lost cause and kept driving.

    Turns out you can get across about half the country in 28 hours. Who knew.

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  7. Long drives... back in the day... these days 3 or 4 hours and I need to stop, my butt & my legs..
    Good stories!

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    1. Oh yeah, the old guy's cry "Ow! My butt! My legs!"

      Thanks, Rob.

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  8. I was stationed at Macdill in Tampa. Every third week we would be on-call wearing pagers. I would ride my motorcycle four and a half hours north every other weekend to south Georgia to see my girlfriend. It was 38 miles past the weekend liberty boundary and I would have to stop at least once for fuel. There were a few times I had to push the speedometer close to triple digits to make it back for a recall. My supervisor turned a blind eye to it.

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    1. Living on the edge, man! Love it. Sounds like your supervisor was a good lad.

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  9. I've said to my wife the next time we drive the length (or is it height?) of California to visit family in Oregon, we're going to make a trip of it- taking several days to get there, stopping at all the places we just blow through in a rush to get to the destination. The journey needs to be an enjoyable part of the trip, not just the end. Maybe drive up the 101, hit some wineries, visit the missions, etc. We'll see.

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    1. Yeah, I'm getting to that age where I really should stop to smell the roses ...

      ... and sip the wine.

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    2. Dad used to take us to the missions, and it somehow required a visit to Solvang to stop at the delicatessen there for good German ham and pumpernickel. Yum. Needless to say, it was only trips within a day of Santa Maria/Vandenberg.

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    3. For good German ham and pumpernickel, I would travel quite a ways!

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    4. Crater Lake, if you 've not been there already.
      JB

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  10. Transitioning from active @ Grand ForksAB to inactive reserve, I drove straight through to Eastchester (NY) in a Triumph TR4A - with occasional naps on the side of the highway - solo.
    Loved North Dakota, loved the Air Force, but was in a rush to get on with the next phase of my life.
    Only took 'bout a day n' a bit.

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    1. Visited ND once. A short TDY to Minot. (Why not?)

      Had a buddy in Omaha from there, he couldn't wait to go back. Though I hear the winters can be a bit "sporty."

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    2. Back in the mid-60s the drifts covered the roof peak of the 2-story BOQ; some genius built it oriented E-W: prevailing in winter were from 350.
      Yah! sporty, indeed!

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    3. Ah yes, those who ignore the prevailing winds are doomed ...

      Well, actually they doomed others, didn't they?

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    4. Somewhere, I have a book by an AF cartoonist. The cover shows an airman clutching his orders being dragged off a sunny Florida beach by two APs. His bikini-clad girlfriend innocently asking "Why not Minot"?

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    5. Crusty Old TV Tech again. I'll finish the rhyme. Whynot Minot? The Freezing's the Reason!

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  11. In 1987 I drove home from Jacksonville Florida for my Sister's wedding. Home was Western Pennsylvania a bit North of Pittsburgh. The day after the wedding the USS Stark got hit and I get a recall. I get held up because of bad weather so I make a marathon 17 hour drive back to Jacksonville. I check into the Duty Office ten minutes before I had to be there. The Squadron was loading for a Detachment that I wasn't scheduled to be on, so I figure that I can go to the Barracks and get some sleep. Nope. Due to a PRIC-E6 I get stuck on the onload working party. I get done with that and get back from Mayport, just to find out that the same PRIC-E6 has stuck me on the Det. So I do laundry, pack and head back to the ship. Close to running 48 hours straight and I'm still a bit hung over from the wedding reception.

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    1. Dang, now that's a story!

      One hopes that the PRIC-E6 received his just reward at some point in time.

      Delete
  12. Epic drives. Driving from Fargo ND to Aberdeen, SD, straight down US 281, a 40' flatbed loaded with a combine and 24' grainhead. Flat out, we're doing 40 mph. Easy driving, go straight, no turnoffs, most roads can't take the weight. And what's that in the rearview? A tornado. (Long before the car.) Going west across 281. Ahh. Wait, going east. Getting bigger. Getting smaller. Going west. Back and forth. An hour and a half of terror. Finally disappeared.

    Now what? Flashing ND HWP. Pull over. Officer wants to check load, he thinks there's a strap loose. Yes, it an unused strap. He asks why I'm sweating. I describe tornado. He stares, gets on radio. Comes back, tells me I've used up my luck for the year; it had crossed the road maybe a dozen times.

    And home. Never drove that truck again.

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    1. Sharing the road with a tornado?

      This is indeed epic.

      Not something I'd want to do, ever.

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  13. Those trees in Kansas were probably just like the ones out near Lubbock. They grew thick and close to houses because pioneer women watered them with their tears. Folks would get a section and build in the middle of it. Later on, they'd move to a corner to be near a neighbor. Lots of place with four homesteads at the corner of section lines. Most roads up in my part of Texas ran on section lines. 33.770399832435544, -101.32606796532765 out near Cone, Tx.

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    1. Classic western grid square layout. I see it from the air every time I go to San Diego.

      And wow, that looks like miles and miles of "not much" out that ways. Cone isn't what I'd call a big town, more like a few buildings around a crossroads.

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  14. Many long trips over the years as a road warrior. Still, entering Texas westbound and seeing mile marker 810 gives one pause. Longest trip? Seattle to Fairbanks and back in a Ford Ranger.

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    1. 2100 miles plus, one way? Yup, that's a bit of a haul!

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  15. Opel Baby Corvette! I had an Opel Manta at one time. GADZOOKS, but that was a fun car to drive!

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