Skip to main content

Goin' to California | Part 1

In this episode - Goin' to California . . .


Have you ever owned a “lemon?” Sure you have an automobile that’s just a bottomless pit of money to keep it on the road. The car I’m talking about is best remembered for its propensity to combust in rear-end collisions. Yes, you guessed it - the Ford Pinto.


We named ours The Mean Green Booger Machine.


Back in the early 1980s my best friend, Nathan, and I decided we would embark on a road trip to California, to photograph the country.


He had a clever idea,


“I’m going to take the back seats out of the car and fabricate plywood beds. When the front seats are folded forward we will be able to sleep in the car very comfortably with backpackers pads and our sleeping bags.”


Brilliant! We would save hundreds, well maybe a few bucks, on motel rooms to California and back.


So the renovation began. Seats removed, plywood measured, cut, and 2x2 wood blocks screwed into place to keep the boards from sliding around. Nathan's father owned a Skelly Gas Station and the car was subjected to a rigorous inspection for our plan to motor west. Routine stuff, oil change, radiator fluid, washer fluid, brake fluid, and check the tires. There was ONE major repair completed; the entire exhaust system was replaced from the manifold to the tailpipe.


We had a cooler for food, all our sleeping paraphernalia, camera gear, clothes, you name it we had it. Our own RV.


“Now we're ready to go.”


We chose the southern route, Interstate 40 (Route 66).


It winds from Chicago to LA

More than two thousand miles all the way

Baby, get your kicks on Route 66

It goes through St. Louis

Joplin, Missouri

Oklahoma City looks mighty pretty

You’ll see Amarillo, Gallup, New Mexico

Flagstaff Arizona . . .


Well, we didn’t quite make it to Flagstaff Arizona. As we entered the Grand Canyon State near the small town of Houck our trusty steed overheated. We were towed to a local Standard Oil service station because the only credit card either of us owned was a Standard Oil credit card.


The car was hoisted on a lift - we waited.


“I’ve got some bad news for you boys,” said the mechanic.


We noticed the fan belt was broken before the car was towed.


“Looks like you’ll need to replace the water pump and the fan belt.”


“How much?” We asked.


“Well, that’s not all. Where you boys headed?


“California!”


“Not on these tires, and you also have a busted rear shock absorber.”


“Your kidding!”


So, after a few hours, with three new tires, water pump, fan belt, and a new left shock absorber, we were “On the Road Again,” cursing Willie Nelson for that damn song we couldn’t get out of our heads.


As we passed through Flagstaff I had to ask my traveling companion, “I thought you checked the tires when you took out the spare to accommodate the plywood beds?”


“I did, the spare is that one-good tire, we put it on to replace the worst of the four tires before we left.”


“Oh brother,” I thought to myself.


“Well, looks like smooth sailing from here.”


Flagstaff, Arizona don’t forget Winona

Kingman, Barstow, San Bernardino . . .


This is Patrick Ball, thanks for listening. Join me next week for part two.


See you in the next episode . . .

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Most Popular of All Time

Feeling Human Again

In this episode, The Unexpected Thankfulness of Feeling Human Again I’ll be honest with you: My triumphant return from France was not the glamorous homecoming I had imagined. No graceful glide back into routine. No cinematic jet-setter moment where I lift my suitcase off the carousel and wink at life like we’re old pals. Instead? I came home and immediately launched into a two-week performance piece titled The Great American Couch Collapse. My days blurred together in a haze of soup, hot tea, tissues, and desperate negotiations with the universe for just one nostril—one!—to function properly. The living room sofa became my emotional support furniture. And any creative idea that dared tiptoe into my congested brain was gently shown the exit with a firm but courteous, “Not today, friend. Try again later.” When life hits the pause button like that—when you’re exhausted, sick, and mentally unplugged—how do you find your spark again? Somehow, today, I felt it. A tiny shift. A clearing of th...
1 comment
Read more

Patience – the Only First-Class Ticket

In this episode, Why Patience is the Only First-Class Ticket They say travel broadens the mind. After eight days sailing the Rhône with 140 fellow luxury vacationers, I can confirm it also tests patience, calf strength, buffet strategy, and one's tolerance for people furious that France insists on being French. Don't get me wrong—I adored this trip. The river shimmered like liquid optimism. The villages looked hand-painted. The pastries could negotiate world peace. But somewhere between Ship Horn Hello and Bon Voyage, we'd inadvertently boarded a floating behavioral research study disguised as a holiday. Our ship was less a cruise and more a ferry for the Sailors of Status. ⌚ The Wristwatch Wars Some passengers approached relaxation like yogis. Others treated leisure like a final exam with extra credit. I came to believe certain luxury watches emit ultrasonic signals that only their owners can detect. A frequency calibrated to trigger rapid movement toward any line forming...
1 comment
Read more

Up the Rhône

Up the Rhône by Patrick Ball We booked a fine cruise up the Rhône — what a treat! With iPhones, lanyards, and schedules so neat. They promised us peace and a mind that would mend, But each calm beginning had chores at the end! "Now breakfast at seven! At eight, take the view!" At nine, there's a lecture on ' What Tourists Do!' At noon, there's a tasting (you must love the cheese), Then hurry to nap time — as corporate decrees! I followed that plan till my patience ran dry. The Rhône softly chuckled, "Oh my, oh my, my! You've missed half my sparkles, my ripples, my tone— You're busy pretending you've peacefully grown!" So I fired my planner and banished my clock. I tossed my agenda right off the dock! I let the wind tickle my schedule away, and drifted through hours that danced where they may. I chatted with swans, had no notion of when, I'd nibble, or nap, or go roaming again. No Wi-Fi! No meetings! No planning! No fuss! Just me and ...
1 comment
Read more

Journey to Avignon (Part II)

🇫🇷 Lost in Transition: Our Journey to Avignon (Part II) When plans derail, sometimes the story gets better. "Mais attendez… peut-être…" the agent murmured, fingers flying across her keyboard. Lori and I leaned in, holding our breath. She frowned, typed again, then sighed. "With this disruption, all trains have been rerouted—and they're already full." We exchanged glances. Around us, the Gare de Lyon pulsed with energy: travelers clutching tickets, voices echoing, the scent of exasperation drifting through the chaos. It felt like the entire station had been swept into the same storm of confusion. Just then, another, older agent appeared beside us. He spoke in clipped, military French. "Where are you coming from? Did you miss your connection because of the incident—the acte de vandalisme ?" We both began to explain, recounting the wrong station, the Metro dash, the missed train—but before we could start, our first agent leaned close, her eyes wide wit...
1 comment
Read more