Pismo, a Real Beach of a Town!

Road Trippin’

with Steve McCarthy

Marianne and her sister Peggy (no, she doesn’t work for some credit card customer service) took their own Road Trip last month. By themselves! Women can actually do this with no muss or fuss. All that crapola about Women Drivers is about as accurate as thinking that Real Men don’t eat quiche. Out dated nonsense at best. 

They were off to visit their aunties, one in Clovis (up near Fresno), one in Saratoga (up near San Jose) and then down to Peggy’s favorite spot, Pismo Beach. Mostly they kept to I-5/99, then over Pacheco Pass ( a pretty nice drive) then down 101 (which is always a nice drive). Our daughter Meaghan and I went up to meet them in Pismo. After lunch, Meaghan and Peggy went home and I stayed a night with Marianne there, benefitting from Peggy’s vast knowledge of one of California’s Classic Beach Towns. 

Although Pismo and the other four cities (Grover Beach, Oceano, Arroyo Grande, and Halcyon) have grown together to make their own Mini-opolis, Pismo still retains a lot of the character of a proper Beach Town. 

And what, may you ask, are the requirements for Classic Beach Town status? 

Well, Number one, there has to be a beach. Pismo has it, several miles of it, good surf, and the bonus of being able to dig your own clams! Pismo clams! 

Second, a Pier. Almost every proper Beach Town has a pier. Newport, Redondo, Huntington, Santa Monica, hell, even little ol’ Cayucos all have piers. Great for fishing, strolling, or just watching the ocean. What  is this fascination humans have with watching the ocean? Some Primeval Urge to connect with when we crawled out of the water and walked on dry land? A Freudian Fetish with the surging rhythm of the crashing waves? We all seem feel calmer, more peaceful at the water’s edge. 

Third, there has to be funky happy-crappy stores that all sell the same t-shits and sweatshirts (OK, “hoodies”) emblazoned with the name of said Beach Town and way over priced. Of course if you’ve ever planned for a nice warm day in the sun and been confronted by a summer fog bank, what ever price they want for a sweatshirt is well worth it. These same shops also have to sell Things Made of Sea Shells. Shell covered boxes, shell covered hanging dust catchers, shell covered Thingys and shell covered Stuff. None of this stuff is of course made locally, or even in the US of A. Pismo has this in abundance, right down to the also obligatory Blown Glass Shoppe. Oh, and Salt Water Taffy! Ya gotta have a bag of this tasty, sugary, sticky confection, and in Pismo, Tomasko’s is THE place. Taffy by the barrel full. Enough to pull every filling our of your head and make you love it! 

Fourth, is of course, Food. Lots of Beach Food! This is something that Pismo really shines at. First, there is the Holy Trinity of Eateries. Mo’s BBQ, the Splash Cafe, and best of all, Brads. Not only are all three on the same street, Mo’s and Brad’s are next door to each other, and Splash is across the street. All three have lines down the sidewalk any where near meal time and all three are worth waiting however long it takes to get seated. 

Mo’s is a great place for Que! They have their own open pit, and make their own sauce. They tend to like Southern style, offering Southern, Carolina, and Georgia as well as their standard sauce. This is not the Kansas City smokey stuff, this is sweet and fruity. Don’t be a One Style Que Fiend! There are indeed lots of different styles, all of it good. Mo’s is exceptional! http://www.smokinmosbbq.com/

Splash Cafe is the new kid on the block. They date from 1989. They claim to have the best chowder ever, and indeed it is good. Thick, hot, creamy (none of that fako Red Clam Soup that Manhattanites tout, this is the REAL DEAL), and wonderfully filling, this is great stuff. The stuff of legends. http://www.splashcafe.com/

Except for the fact that Brad’s is across the street. Now Pismo is a Two Chowder Town. Residents and visitors divide into Bradites and Splashians and polarize over this issue to a degree that makes the California Legislature look like the Soul of Compromise, Cooperation, and Brotherly Love. I’ve tried both. Several times. I really like Splash’s. I LOVE Brad’s! It has the sweetest clams I’ve ever had in a chowder. It’s almost thick enough to stand your spoon in. It has the perfect clam to potato ratio, every spoon full has both. The dusting of paprika on the top adds just a hint of smokiness and heat to push this chowder over the top into the realm of Ambrosia. 

The rest of the food isn’t half bad either! We split the Seafood Combo and Chips. It was crisp and not greasy, even the large hunks of fried up calamari were tender and tasty, No mean feat that. Too often, calamari  is a plate full of rubber bands. On top of that, the staff (thanks for a great meal Grace!) is attentive and friendly. Well worth the 15 minutes we waited in line to eat. Don’t let that turn you off, like I said, all three have lines, a testament to their collective excellence. 

I got to speak with Amy, the manager about Brad’s and the story gets better. The place has been there 60 years, all in the same family! Brad opened it as a burger place, that place burned down and he re-opened it as a proper cafe, specializing is seafood. His daughters, Sherri, Gerry, and Mary Ann still put in a day’s work, and to top off everything, for the past couple of years, they offer a FREE Christmas dinner to any one who shows up. Turkey, Ham, Stuffing, the lot, no questions asked. I mean, how could any self respecting Road Tripper NOT support a place like this? 

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Brads-Restaurant-Pismo-Beach-CA/178112068895609

Now these are not the only places to eat. There’s great Italian food at Giuseppe’s and a high end place called Steamers. Both are a nice alternative, especially if you are staying a few days. For lunch, drive over to Oceano to the Rock ‘n’ Roll Diner. This place is in two old railroad passenger cars and does a mean tri-tip sandwich. 

No overnight stay in Pismo is complete with out the best cinnamon rolls ever. It you are used to that gloppy mess of corporate goo called Cinnabon, get your self to Old West Cinnamon Rolls!  These folks have the stickiest, gooiest, most tender buns you’ve ever bitten into (yeah, I know, pretty salacious for a family website!). You can get ‘em plain, iced, encrusted with walnuts, all manner of buns. All good! Their coffee is also better than GotBucks. 

As with all Beach Towns, there are lots of motels, and even a classic Beach Hotel, the aptly named Pismo Beach Hotel, built in 1937, and nicely renovated. There’s every price range, from Motel 6 to luxury spa. 

Pismo Beach is a neat town, plenty of great side roads to explore for day trips, close to wineries and plenty to offer the Serious Road Tripper, or even the casual mom-and-pop-in-the-mini-van-with-the-kids-and-the-golden-retriever. Get yourself up there and discover your own favorites. And by the way, yes Peggy, we got that set of glasses you were pining for in Paso Robles! 

Breakfast!

Road Trippin’

with Steve McCarthy

I’m not really a morning person. Yeah, these days I seem to get up early, but that’s just a function of age and habit. I’m not what you’d call awake before about 10AM. Thirty years of teaching and needing to be out of the house before 7AM to get ready for the little dears has made it tough to sleep in. This means I’m rarely awake enough to bother with breakfast. A cup of hot chocolate (I really hate coffee- I know, sacrilege in this Starbucks driven world- but then you know me, an iconoclast to the hilt) and a breakfast bar is about it. If Marianne is making bacon, well, naturally I’ll have some of that, but really, I’m just not a breakfast guy. Unless we’re on a Road Trip.

If it’s Road Trip Time, I’m a breakfast-o-holic. Our usual deal is to hit the road at O’Dark-Thirty, and about an hour or so down the road, pull in and get some eats. As a creature of habit, for me it’s always the same thing. Pancakes. Unless there’s Waffles. Then either sausage (only if it’s link sausage in the casing, don’t give me those patties!) or bacon, lots of maple syrup and butter and a cup of hot chocolate. I tell ya, nothing beats good flapjacks in setting up the day for a long drive. Ya got yer protein from the porky goodness, carbs from the pancakes, sugar from the syrup  (hopefully but rarely is it REAL maple syrup) and maybe blueberries for some fruit. What more can you ask for? 

Now every one has their own favorites to get the day going and I’m not about to try and break you of your favorite day starter. It is perhaps the most personal food choice you can make.  Some people love eggs. Me, I’m not an egg fan. Put it down to my Mom making Christmas ornaments out of  whole egg shells and me having to eat scrambled eggs every morning for what seemed like months. Still, lots of you love ‘em and your choices are endless. Hell, that greatest of all French cookbooks, Larousse Gastronomique lists some 250 or so different ways to do eggs, and that’s not including omelet variations! Eggs are a very personal choice and people are exceptionally particular about having them perfect and their way. I get that. Then there’s the SoCal invention, the Breakfast Burrito. Again, very personal choice as to what it should contain. A Talmudic Debate can arise just bringing up the topic. 

The point of all this is to give you our Top Spots for Breakfast On the Road. These are the non-corporate, locally owned, mom and pop diners that once were the staple of Road Trip Life. These are the places that sustained generations of Fellow Travelers, both professional and recreational. There was an old saw about “Eat Where the Truck Drivers Eat.” Once I think that was true, but usually it meant that the food was cheap and plentiful, not necessarily good. Today, most truckers still prefer that (it’s coming out of their pocket and their profits after all) and the Mega Eateries know this and cater to it. It’s just not that good a guide any more. In unfamiliar territory, it is a good indicator if there are a lot of cars in the parking lot that look local. Locals know and support places that are good. Places that give good value and good food. So, in unfamiliar territory, let that be your guide. 

This list is just the tip of the iceberg of course. It’s not definitive and best of all, it’s local. All of them are within an hour’s drive from Monrovia. 

1) LeRoys. 523 W Huntington Dr, Monrovia, California (626) 357-5076  · leroysrestaurant.com. This place is on old Route 66 and is in our backyard. It’s a serious diner that is open only for breakfast and lunch. It’s almost always crowded, and prepare for a long wait on Saturday and Sunday mornings. It’s also terrific!!!! Pancakes that flop over the edge of a dinner plate, good bacon, good sausage and a great staff. It’s been an institution for decades here in town. In fact, as I’m writing this, I’m in a bit of a rush because I’m meeting my sister Sue and her husband Rog there for breakfast this morning! 

2) Worker Bee Cafe 973 Linden Avenue, Carpinteria, CA. (805) 745-1828 Dear Constant Readers and you who have my book will have heard of this place. It’s one of our favorites and a must stop if we were headed north on 101. The couple who run it are wonderful. He cooks, she wait’s tables. He’ll come out to chat and the locals all give him guff and he gives it back. The waffles are quite good and again the place is crowded. The decor is wonderfully kitschy, filled with Bee Themed Stuff. As it should. Like all good diners, they also cater to families and will bring out a bucket of small toys for kids to fool with while they wait for the food. As with LeRoys, they only do breakfast and lunch.

3)Summit Inn Restaurant, 5970 Mariposa Rd, Hesperia, California, (760) 949-8688. This is another classic Route 66 Diner. One of the originals and one of the few real one’s left. Get there NOW because there are new owners and it seems a bit up in the air if they will keep it open. That would be tragic. This place is right at the top of Cajon Pass and is perfect if you are headed east. The staff are what you’d want. They call you “Hon” and serve up good food with a smile and some conversation. This place is open for dinner and serves exotica like buffalo and ostrich burgers. Seriously, make a stop there and SAVE THE SUMMIT!!!

4)  Bun Boy 1890 West Main Street, Barstow, CA,(760) 256-8082. OK, Barstow is more than an hour away, but this place is another classic Route 66 spot. It’s pretty far off the interstate, but why the heck are you on the interstate in the first place? If you take Route 66 from Victorville, it’s just as you get into Barstow. There’s a huge parking lot from the days when the trucks rolled by and the food is great! Truly homemade everything, and all the funky decor that you’d expect. 

So, there’s four places to start with. Please support your local diners so we won’t be reduced to McJackKing slop as our only choice. Try ‘em all, and if you have one to add to the list, let me know at steve@theacemagazine.com. Good Eating, and Good Road Trippin’ to ya! 

Louis Mattar, Our New Hero!

Road Trippin’

with Steve McCarthy

OK, Ladies, this one’s for you. Your husband buys you a new car! Your dream car! Then he spends the next seven years and something like $75,000 making a few “improvements. Raise your hands if this sounds at all familiar. Wow, there’s a Big Surprise. Look at all those hands in the air! Hmmmm, my wife, Marianne, is leading the charge. Uh, oh. 

No, I didn’t spend $75k on the Mustang. (or the Blue Meanie, I think, I don't know, I don't keep track of that stuff, too scary!).  I did add a few touches after the unfortunate Incident with the Camry That Crossed Our Bows Sideways on the I-5 in the OC. No, the King of All Tinkerers with the Wife’s Car, the Champion of Making Just a Few Improvements, the Sultan of Swaps is Louis Mattar. This guy is a Hero for all of us. 

Yep, in 1947, he bought his wife a new Caddy. Over the next seven years, he made a few improvements. SEVENTY-FIVE THOUSAND 1950s DOLLARS worth of tweaks and swaps and fiddling. And yes, his wife loved it, shared in it and stayed married to him. Like I said, a Hero! 

So what did he do? If you go to Balboa Park in San Diggy, hit the neat little car museum. Mattar lived in DayGo and instead of the Smithsonian, his wife’s Pride and Joy sits there. Ya see, this car is the Ultimate Road Trip Car. Mattar set records that will never be broken. From September 20^th to the 27^th of 1952, he and two other guys drove non-stop to New York. And Back. 6320 MILES WITHOUT STOPPING!!! Literally. In Kansas City, Camden, NJ, and Omaha, they drove onto small airports where a moving gas truck drove along side to fuel up the 230 gallon gas tank on the trailer they were towing. 

Not satisfied with that, His second run in August of ’54 took him from Anchorage, Alaska to Mexico City, also non-stop, and 7,482 miles. That’s in a world without the Dreaded Interstate. Mostly a world of two lane blacktop, and not a few dirt roads, especially on the AlCan Highway and in Mexico. 

No, lest you think that this was just a car towing a huge gas tank trailer, let me enlighten you about the rest of the modifications. The car can automatically change it’s own oil and refill the radiator. The tires can be automatically inflated as the car drives. In fact, using the catwalks added all around, two guys can change a tire while the car is moving at about 25 mph. Behind the rear seats is a vanity mirror. the arm rest folds down to either support an ironing board or a hot dog cooker. Under one rear seat is either a small washing machine, or, remove that and you have a potty. there is fresh water (30 gallons worth in the trailer, and 50 gallons in the trunk!) and a drinking fountain tap under one tail light. The radio antenna is replaced by a shower. The car has two TV’s and an in car telephone-1950’s, remember? This was really far out stuff then! The list goes on. The whole rig weighs in at 8500 pounds or so. And not a computer in sight! 

Get yourself down to San Diego and check this thing out. Words and pictures hardly suffice to convey the whole story. Good Ol’ Youtube naturally has footage: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yT8azxnVAC4--it’  It’s a bit long, and at times a bit hokey, but still, it’s fascinating! In particular, watch ‘em change a tire on the run with no safety harnesses, no helmets, just doing it! Can you even imagine trying this in today’s world of hyper safety and the nanny state? 

So, to usher in this Possibly Apocalyptic Year of 2012, I offer Louis Mattar as the second in our Road Trippin’ Pantheon of Immortals, right up there beside Horatio Nelson Jackson, the first Road Tripper.  Let these two inspire you to Hit the Road! Who knows if you’ll have another chance? 

To GPS or not GPS?

Road Trippin'

with Steve McCarthy

To GPS or not GPS?

That is indeed a question. Is it nobler to bear the slings and arrows of a map or to arm oneself with something more modern? OK, enough of paraphrasing Hamlet. It's too easy. It IS coming on the season of gift giving bacchanalia, and tech toys are a staple. GPS has been around for a while, so many of the bugs are worked out. Or are they?

First, GPS, like every other bit of techno-wizardry is a TOOL! Nothing more,nothing less. If it can't do the job, no matter how glitzy and sexy it might be, why bother. Now anyone who knows me will tell you that I am more than a bit of a neo-luddite. I got a 'pooter when they began to address my needs. I still don't have a cell phone. I'm about as anti-tech-for-tech-sake as a guy can be in this ever technological age. Hell, I drive a TR3 ferchissake! I don't even have electronic ignition! So who better to give you the skinny on GPS? 

OK, I bought one. The day before our massive 4600 mile road trip that you've been reading about for the past few months. I got a Garmin on the advice of several more tech literate friends. The nuvi 1450 was pretty highly rated on several websites, so, after hunting one down (took several stores to find just that one) I got one at Radio Shack. I did not get the one with lifetime maps, figuring that we'll use it mostly on road trips on back roads, they're not making any more of them, so who needs the updates. IF however, you need one because you regularly do deliveries, or are a chauffeur, you might think seriously about the extra hundred bucks or so that life time map upgrades will cost you. Think about your needs, then get the one that fits. Bragging rights are lame and expensive. This is not then a side by side comparison, it's just six months of living with the thing, using it on road trips and around town.

First, yes, it is a useful tool in many ways. Second, it does have serious limitations for Road Trippers. Let's address the positives first. Probably the number one feature that is helpful is hitting the "Home" button if you are in really unfamiliar territory and got yourself turned around. No matter how turned around you are, it will at least get you to major roads and you can reset from there. Second, IF you take the time to program in your route, it is easier than reading a map in a bouncing car. the Garmin has a feature that can call up the next several turnings so you can see what's next and what's next after that. Third, it gives you plenty of notice as to when you'll be turning, unlike some navigators I've driven with ("Hey, turn HERE!") and having that notice makes things a lit easier. By the way, Marianne is NOT one of those, she gives great directions in plenty of time. Usually. Like all people, myself included, she sometimes goofs. Rarely, but stuff  sometimes happens. Next, it's pretty handy for finding restaurants and motels. We were really grateful for this on this summer's trip when when we were finally rolling into Grand Junction and needed some eats and a place to sleep. Between the GPS and the AAA guide, we were satisfied on both counts. Lastly, the extra bells and whistles are kinda fun. You're not limited to the one annoying voice that sounds so perturbed when you don't do what it wants you to do "reCALculating..." or the same icon that follows the road. Several are down loadable from the Garmin website as well as fun voices you can get form places like www.pigtones.com. I now have "Sean Connery" telling me that he was "just out walking my rat and got lost..."  and randomly asking me if I expect him to talk. I also got Yoda and Clint Eastwood. The five inch touch screen is pretty easy to use (don't bother getting anything smaller, they are worthless!) and the constant orientation that follows the road is a good idea. The trip info is good and you can add a panel to the display that gives you a variety of info, such as direction of travel, elevation, time, speed (and local speed limit!), time and mile to destination, arrival time and others. These are customizable to your needs. Pretty cool. Another useful tool is the traffic link. Around LA, it will tell you in close to real time if there is bad traffic up ahead, and where it is. It's not infallible, but more useful than "Traffic on the fives" which never seem to address the problems where YOU happen to be. Especially if it involves the San Gabriel Valley. It's like we don't exist. but I digress. One of the most useful features is the one that not only tells you which lane to be in to make a freeway transition, but shows you a picture of the interchange. This is extremely helpful when navigating in unfamiliar territory. Like San Diego! Where'd all those extra freeways come from? 

The so-so features are few. The trip info is useful in knowing how far you've gone but setting up your mileage and the "Eco Challenge" are pretty useless. Since the thing is not directly hooked into your car's computer, you have to set what you think is your average mileage and the price of gas. Since both of these things vary so much, it's only a mere approximation. The Eco Challenge also will track your driving habits on a rather arbitrary graph. Allegedly, it factors in your speed, braking and acceleration to give you a score. It seems to me that this score is heavily influenced by your speed and minimally by the other two. It has no way of knowing what gear you are in and how many revs you are turning. A blast up a mountain road at 40mph but in second gear at high revs will get you a better score than 55mph in fifth on the freeway. The other so-so thing is mounting it somewhere. California Law dictates that you can only mount them in either lower corner of the windshield. Not always the most useful place, especially if you are relying on a navigator. You both need to see it. Mounting on the dashboard is an impossibility in many cars, and on most, dangerous. It would seem that just above the glove box, slightly to the left of the passenger would be good. Just where the airbag will deploy, making the GPS a lethal missile. Not such a good idea that. 

So, what are the down sides? The thing has way too many languages. Sure, Garmin is global, but do they really need Basque (and not Gaelic!) and Slovenian? Some are just annoying, like the British lady who always sounds inconvenienced when she is forced to recalculate because of your incompetence. The other bad thing is the Bad Traffic Avoidance function. Just turn it off. It seems to over react to any slow down, and wants to send you on the most round about way to get somewhere. Seriously, in testing this, it took me almost an hour longer to get to Monrovia from Long Beach to avoid a ten minute slow down. Naturally, the default is sending you down the Dreaded Interstate when ever possible. To set up a backroads drive, you have to set several via points to force it to take the route you want. If you take the time to set all this up, It does an OK job, but you still need a map and an idea of where you want to go. On more than one occasion, the poor thing was just overwhelmed and wanted us to go places we couldn't. "In 400 feet, turn right" which would have sent us over a cliff. Yeah, it's entertaining, but...

The WORST thing about GPS however is the tendency to send you down a road you really shouldn't be on. This probably doesn't apply to us Veteran Road Trippers as much, hell, we WANT to drive the weird twisty roads. But Justin and Madison Average in their minivan loaded with their 2.2 kids, the labrador, and the giant stroller probably shouldn't drive on some of these roads. Case in point. In heading south on the 101 from San Luis Obispo, the damn thing will want you to go over Hwy 154 and San Marcos Pass. this will cut the Gaviota Corner on the 101. Now I like 154. It's a pretty neat road, but not for Mr & Ms. Average. It's even worse for truck drivers. The guy who took his car-carrier rig over Angeles Crest and lost his brakes in La Canada, killing a couple of folks took that route on the advice of his GPS. 

My point is you have to bloody well THINK. All the technojazzystuff in the world will not replace that most uncommon of all things, Common Sense. You really do need a map and a brain to Road Trip. You really need a brain and the ability to use it and think for yourself. Should you ask Santa for a GPS? Sure, they have their uses. Just don't turn off your grey matter. So, (delivered in a somewhat Scottish/Connery accent) "Drive your so called car to the route I've highlighted, God I miss the Aston Martin DB-5!" 

Road Trippin'-The Massive Road Trip-Part Three

        It was getting late as we got into the car up on Tennessee Pass. I had really mixed emotions. The day so far had been a real roller coaster. Seeing the site where GGPa Ready bought it was a bit eerie, but at the same time, left me a bit flat, a bit sad, a bit pensive. We also still had a long haul to Green River, Utah for our next stop. Nothing for it then, but to press on. 

The drive down Highway 24 (well, it’s up, as in north on the map, but downhill so you figger it out) is a great piece of road. Not a lot of traffic, great scenery and wonderful small towns. We were liking Colorado more and more. You could easily spend weeks exploring the back roads and little bergs that dot the map.

The weather was turning a bit foul as we neared I-70. We stopped to take a pee break and it was Marianne’s turn to drive. Bad luck for her. I-70 west is not your typical interstate. Yeah, it does bypass all the towns, but as a road, it’s pretty spectacular. Much of it follows the Colorado River (yes, that Colorado River) so they both twist and turn down a pretty narrow canyon. Then there’s the tunnels. Massive tunnels! Then the rain hit. HARD! Most of the way to Grand Junction was ugly. I have to give full props to Marianne, she handled it beautifully. Even passing semis that throw up rooster tails of spray, obliterating what little vision we had. As things leveled out, we were slammed with a couple of thunderstorms that made things even worse, but she pressed on, never freaked out (at least externally-she admitted that she was pretty tense for a lot of it) and pressed on regardless. 

It was around 8:00PM that we rolled into Grand Junction, and using the handy dandy Triple A Guide and the now very handy dandy GPS, found a place to eat. WW Peppers was touted as a place favored by locals, it wasn’t a chain, it was right off the Interstate, it was late. We went. Sometimes, when it’s getting late, you’re tired and you just dive into a place, you get crap food. This was not the case. This place was really pretty good. Standard menu, lot’s of steaks, nice Wood and Ferns Decor that was right out of the 70s, but a friendly and efficient staff and tasty food made for a good stop. There are probably better places and I’m sure there are a lot worse ones, so we’d recommend it as a good, solid bet for food. By the time we were done with dinner, we were knackered. Green River was at least another hour or more away. Screw it! There was a Motel 6 down the street. Nuff said. 

The next morning, we loaded up and headed off for US 50 (The Loneliest Road in America) and Ely, Nevada. Again, I-70 did not disappoint us! Into Utah we were treated with canyons and buttes and scenery that was really spectacular.  Turns out not stopping in Green River was a good call. Not a lot there! We gassed up there and got some muffins and such for breakfast, thinking that we needed to make up some time headed back to the road. 

Around Salina, UT, we headed north on US 50, then south on I-15 (yep the same I-15 that takes you to Lost Wages), then west again on US 50 towards Ely. this was indeed a lonely road. Nothing for miles and miles but miles and miles. This is alkali desert. It’s flat. The road has a few kinks but is mostly straight. I set the cruise control to 95 and just kept it pointed straight. This kind of driving makes you think. The historian in me couldn’t help but wonder at what it must have been like hauling a Conestoga Wagon over this to get to the Promised Land where fist sized gold nuggets were just sitting around to be picked up. Here we were, clipping along a 95 per hour, when on a good day, a wagon train might make 20 miles in a day!!!! Do the math. We could cover in an hour what might take them the better part of a week. Or more. They had to haul their own water for them AND their animals as there isn’t anything drinkable out there. And we DARE to whine about anything in our lives. puh!

Anyway, we hit Ely and headed for the train yard. Ah, ya knew there had to be something like that to take such a detour. Yep, the Nevada Northern Rail Road, aka “The Ghost Train.” This railroad was built to serve the Kennecot copper mine in the area and when operations were shut down, everyone simply put down their tools, closed the books, parked the equipment and locked up and left, leaving a treasure trove of railroad history. In 1984, it was reopened as a tourist railway, the old steam locomotive was fired up for the first time since 1964 and they haven’t looked back. Again it seems that the de facto theme of this trip was Time Travel. 

This place is amazing and well worth the trip. Visitors are free to wander the yard and take pictures and they run a daily train up to the mine site and back. On weekends, they run the steam engine. Pretty normal for a tourist road. But Wait! This is one of the few places that (for a fee-a kinda hefty fee) YOU CAN DRIVE THE LOCOMOTIVE!!!!!! Yeah! Really! No, I didn’t. Still…

We did find a couple of nice t-shirts to help support them. I surprised Marianne with one that says “My Train of Thought Derailed….There Were No Survivors.” We ate some of the last of our salami and cheese and bread for lunch, then headed for Wells, Nevada, our next planned stop. 

From Ely, we rocketed up to Bonneville and out on the Salt Flats. Yes, anyone can drive out there, but be careful. The salt will cake up under your car and eat it to pieces. One guy we talked to said his rental car company, when he said he was going to Bonneville told him that there would be a $300 charge if he brought the car back with any salt on it. One van we saw coming in off the salt had cakes of the stuff hanging off the wheel wells. The salt flats are neat though. And huge! REALLY HUGE! It’s not just the part you see that runs up to the mountain that Buckeroo Banzai ran through with his Over Thruster. It spreads out for miles and miles and miles! The part they use for racing is not even one-tenth of the area! 

After being properly awed, we headed west on I-80, managed to resist the questionable delights of West Wendover, and blitzed past Wells. It was pretty early, Wells seemed to have nothing to recommend it, so we headed for Elko. 

This is one of those object lessons on Road Trippin’ that is important. We didn’t make reservations at either Green River or Wells, figuring that we didn’t want to be locked into a specific schedule. If you recall, for Cameron and Durango, we’d done just that and as it turned out, that was a good call. NOT making reservations for these two nights was an equally good call. 

Elko, Nevada is a neat town! It, Wendover, and Winnemucca were major stopping points at one time so there is plenty of motels and restaurants to choose from. We opted for the Motel 6 (again) and once we explored the town wished we hadn’t. There wasn’t anything wrong with the 6, it’s just that there were better options. Like the Thunderbird! This place is a classic and is pretty much near the center of town so all the cool stuff is in walking distance. Next time…

The real find was dinner. Good Ol’ St. Serendipity was watching out for us! The AAA guide showed a couple of Basque restaurants in town. OOOHHHH! Basque=LAMB! We picked one, punched it into the GPS and tried to find it. Trouble is, the main drag of Elko was being torn up, there were detours and we were getting hungry and impatient and all the GPS could do was “recalculate.”  We also noticed that there were several Basque places! Elko it turns out is a center of Basque/Americans. Who knew! This was also cool because part of Marianne’s family was Basque! Then one caught our eye. The Star Hotel. While the others looked a bit empty, this place had cars parked all around it. On a Wednesday night. Always a good sign. We managed to park and walked in. WOW! The bar was packed, the Tour de France was on the TV over the bar and everyone was in great spirits. We must have looked lost and one guy told us we needed to get our name on the list and pointed the way. Cool. We were soon called and seated. 

Now, I’m betting most of you have never eaten at a Basque place, so let me give you some of the skinny. ALL Basque places are Family Style. That means that you are seated at a long table with lots of other people. You get to talk with them. When they bring out the food, it’s like eating at home for Thanksgiving. Everyone gets the same sides, you only order your main course. 

First came the Tub O’Soup. This vat of steamy vegetable soup (what ever is fresh and in season-this time it was carrots, cabbages, potatoes and such) is passed around and everyone ladles some into their bowl. If the tureen empties, they bring another. Then comes the Tub O’Salad. Same deal. Don’t dare and even think you’ll get “dressing on the side”. It’s not an option. Enjoy. Finally, came the main dish and the side dishes. I got the roasted lamb. Huge chunks of lamb, falling off the bone and roasted with red bell peppers. Marianne had the beef (lamb and her don’t get along too well). The platter (yes, I said platter) was piled high with this tender lamby goodness. Then came the platters of sides. Ya gotcher green beans with garlic, ya gotcher plate of spaghetti, ya gotcher kidney beans, garlicky roasted potatoes, and ya gotcher fresh baked bread. Ya need yer hand truck to wheel ya out of there when you’re done! The saddest part was that since we were on the road for two more days, we couldn’t doggy bag any of it! Oh, and yes, there was dessert. No, we didn’t. With wine and beer, this all came to under $50. For the two of us. 

The next day dawned bright and clear, we hit the I-80 (yeah ok, more interstate, I know, how evil of me to embrace the dark side of Road Trippin’--but sometimes, yah don’t have a lot of choices) and turned north out of Winnemucca on US 95. This is a pretty neat road ( it’s also an example of how enlightened Nevada is and how repressive Oregon is--speed limit in Nevada=70; Oregon-yep 55!), and famous as the route of the fictional open road race depicted in the classic Tony Curtis movie “Johnny Dark.” Get a copy, it’s pretty neat. They special built the cars and they were the focus of a special place a Pebble Beach a while ago. Anyway, I digress. We were headed for Redmond, Oregon to see a cousin of Marianne’s. We spent a nice night there, then headed to Olympia for my dad’s 86^th birthday. It was nice to be able to have time with extant family after all the time we spent with bygone relations. 

After a week in Olympia (where we managed a small road trip out to the coast at Westport, finding a roadside sausage stand where we filled up with all manner of brats, landjagers, and assorted other meat in tubular form) we headed back home. We naturally went US 101 and instead of our usual night in either Eureka or Crescent City, we opted for Orick. This is a wonderful wide spot in the road. There are several places that sell redwood carvings and I’ve always wanted to stop. So we did. No, we didn’t try and load a totem pole or eight foot tall bear in the car, but I did find a neat carved bowl with a turtle on it. Cute. We stayed at the Palm Motel. In the midst of the redwoods, the Palm Motel. This place is one of those original motels that used to fill the highways. It’s a bit tired. I had to use my shoulder to open the door, the place had settled so much. We had to but a towel under the door, just to keep out the draft from the two inch gap. It was great. They also had a cafe. We had the best burger of the whole trip. Surprisingly good food. 

From there it was home. One shot, down 101 and for the first time, the radar detector was working over time. Seems the CHP is trying to singlehandedly balance the budget. Coming out of King City, I almost got nailed. Saw him in my mirror coming down the on ramp. Backed it down and got followed for a couple of miles until he got bored.  Remember, just because the Chippies can use radar, doesn’t mean they do. Our boys still like to nail you Old School. So back it off, let a rabbit streak by to flush them out and watch your mirrors. 

All in all, this was an epic trip. 4300 miles. Seven states. Great roads and even better scenery. Great food and so-so food, and above all, friendly people. We traveled not only back roads but back in time. We connected with family in the here and the then. THIS was what Road Trippin’ is supposed to be about. 

Family Ties

Road Trippin

with Steve McCarthy

Day Three of our Big Drive dawned and we slept. We’d earned it after getting up in the middle of the bloody night to see Monument Valley. Like I said before, it was worth it. The plan for the day was to hunt down family history. For me, this was the most rewarding day of the trip, but it was as least as long a day as the last one. It was also a day filled with great roads and fabulous scenery. 

We found breakfast in durango at a little place  called the Brickhouse Cafe & Coffee Bar. neat little place, we hit them just as they opened so we had to wait just a bit longer than we’d like, but the food was good. Except Marianne’s pancakes weren’t hot. UGH! Cold pancakes are not a good thing. The waitress DID fix it quickly so we’d still recommend it. Anyway, we did have a schedule to keep. 

WHAT you ask? A schedule? Aren’t we the go with the flow Road Trippers? Well, yes. And no. Yasee the first steam train out of town left at 8:30 AM and we wanted to catch it up the road. So, tanked with gas and fed, we set off up US 550 parallel to the tracks to find a good photo spot. One place we were told about is called “Hernandez” that is an iconic spot. There’s an old water tower there that makes a great backdrop. That turned out to be a great suggestion! We found the place and got some pretty good shots. We paced the train as long as we could, then the routes diverged and we were off for the next highlight; Gunnison. 

Our late(ish) start that morning meant we had to just just cruise through Silverton (terminus of the tourist road) and the other little towns. We were On a Mission and had no time to be distracted. Turned out to be a good idea. Gunnison was 170 miles on some fairly twisty roads. And the weather wasn’t really cooperative. Off and on thunder showers made passing a bit of an adventure at times. That and those dammed Suicide Lanes! Yeah, Colorado has ‘em too! The scenery in Colorado IS spectacular. Often you are driving above the tree line, so, unlike Washington, you’re not hemmed into a fir lined tunnel. Colorado may be one of the premier Road Trippin’ places on Urth! 

Somewhere near lunch time we neared Gunnison and had to figure out where to start. See, my mom had given me a small photo of her dad taken in 1941 standing in front of the house he was born (in 1894) in. It was a pretty fancy one story brick house with rather distinctive concrete lintels over the windows. The only info we had was that it was supposed to have been an old school  house. But where to start. Marianne, great navigatrix that she is, found in the AAA guide for Colorado (these books are really helpful! One of the perks-that and the free 200 mile towing-that makes an AAA card extremely useful) that there is a Pioneer Museum. The guide said that they had three school houses on the site! Where better to start I ask you? 

We plugged the address into my new toy (a Garmin 1450 nuvi GPS-yeah, I know, the Neo-Luddite Society is gonna revoke my membership-more on the GPS in another column) and Hey Presto, There it was. A bit nervously, we walked in, hoping to find a docent who could help us. There were three of them. Very nice, very helpful. I took out the picture and they all said, “Oh, that’s the old school house!” No, it wasn’t one on at the museum, and they weren’t exactly sure which of two it might be. They gave us directions to both. In the meantime, I was telling them of our family history in Gunnison. They were jazzed! Then, good old St. Serendipity stepped in. 

I was telling them about Great Grandma Jenny Sadoris (boy does she have a history!). Seems she was not only the local postmistress (first woman west of the Mississippi to be one!), delivered the mail wearing snowshoes, but she also wrote for the local newspaper, the News-Champion. “Why, we have a whole set of back issues here!” WOW! And wait, it gets better! “They’re in that building back there, help yourself to a look!” 

Seriously, they have original copies of 100+ year old newspapers and just anybody can look at them? Seriously? 

I was off like a shot. Found the stack of papers. Actually, each year was bound and dated, so with some reasonable care, they could be handled. Lessee now, what to look for? 1902! That was the year Great Grandpa Ready was killed in a train wreck! Out came the volume. Ah, hmmm, January. Carefully I leafed through the issues, trying my best to rediscover my talents as a researcher. Ya can’t read every article. Old newspapers are also set up differently from today’s . Seems that in this paper, local news items were just lumped together, no real headlines. So, I began scanning for anything “Ready”. BINGO!!!! Friday, January 31, 1902--”The funeral of Philip Ready who was killed last Friday morning (this was a weekly paper, by the way) by a run away train down Tennessee Pass…” I’d found it! AND, the short article said his funeral was at the local Catholic Church which meant he was buried locally! This was amazing! 

We found out where the cemetery was (on the way out of town), poked around the museum a bit, then went searching for Grandpa Ready’s house. We tried to follow the vague directions and got nowhere. I tried a different plan. Post Office! Found it easily enough and walked up to the counter. “Hi, my Great Grand Mother was Post Mistress here in the late 1800s!” The people at the counter were amazed! Then I showed them the picture. “Oh, that’s the old school house!” Seems to be a pretty well known building. Then the lady gave us directions of the “it’s just past the Domino’s Pizza near where the highway splits off” variety. No, she didn’t know the street names. She worked in the Post Office and didn’t know street names! At least we were getting a general direction, and eliminated one of the possibilities put forth at the museum. 

Next door was the new newspaper office though. That warranted a looksee. Sure enough, after what had by now become a standard introduction, the people in there (who were also jazzed) gave us exact directions. Off we went. Back down the highway, bear right, and sure enough, THAT had to be the place! All boarded up and looking pretty sad, but those window lintels were exactly right! 

It gets better. The story in the newspaper office was that a child services agency called “Partners” now owned the property and had a grant to restore the old house. Turns out, their offices were in back and yep, they were open. Even more nervously elated, we walked in. “Hi, my grandfather was born in that house in 1894.” 

You could hear the proverbial pin drop as jaws dropped around the office. They proceeded to give me some history of the place (seems it was build when there was a West and and East Gunnison, to show that West Gunnison was better than East Gunnison. The town’s First Brick Building! and later turned into a private residence, it was lived in until the 1970s. It’s been vacant since,) I then pulled out the photo. “I thought you’d like to see this, it was taken in 1941, that’s my grandfather. Have you got a scanner? you can make a copy.” You’d thought I’d given them the Hope Diamond! “Wow! Oh REALLY? Say, would you like to see inside?” 

Oh, Man! One of the staff unlocked the padlock and with a flashlight, we went into the stygian darkness. It smelled of Old. That kind of mildewy, old pant, fustiness that long abandoned buildings have. I don’t believe in ghosts or any of that crappola. I didn’t feel any looming Presence. I DID feel a connection. Like a link with the past was restored. I felt more complete. sigh. 

We realized that it was about 2:00 and the day was getting on and we had miles of more twistyies to go, so, having hit the local Sonic Burger (well, it’s better than McD’s!) we headed for the next step in this Journey of Family Discovery. Sure enough, right out of town was the graveyard. We turned in. Now what? I remembered that Sierra Madre’s old cemetery had listing of grave sites in a small building. There was a small chapel looking building. Why not. Sure enough, there was a book of grave sites. I opened it to the “R’s” and there was Phillip Ready AND a Mary Ann Ready. She was his sister. I wrote down the plot number and looked for a map. None. Ah, man! Well, we got in the car to drive around. There were section numbers on trees, but they didn’t seem to have any order. Again, St. Serendipity to the rescue. The maintenance barn was open and there were a couple of guys inside. We drove up, introduced ourselves and one of them said he’s show us where. “Most of the graves in that section aren’t marked,” he said. Damn! We followed him down the aisle, he looked around and “Hey, here it is!” It DID have a marker! There it was. Grandpa’s dates were wrong, but who cares. We found it! We paused a bit there, silently reflecting on this new found connection with our past, Mounted the Mustang and were off to Tennessee Pass, site of the train wreck that killed the man buried at our feet. 

East out of town, we wound along US 50. Originally, we were going to stop in Salida, but because it was getting late, we bypassed that and headed north on US 24. This was the dreaded Tennessee Pass. One of the (if not THE) highest railroad line in the US. A nasty twisty bit of railroad that took a great deal of skill and maybe a modicum of luck to negotiate even in modern times. In 1902, air brakes were in their infancy. It was 6:30 on a January morning when, according to the Eagle County newspaper, one Philip Reddy (sic) took his train through the tunnel at the top of the pass. As he exited the tunnel, he “called for brakes” and there weren’t any. The brakemen walked across the tops of the ever accelerating train, trying to manually set the brakes. The cold January weather had frozen them solid. For seven miles, the train careened down hill, until two miles out of Pando, it hit an esse curve and derailed into a road cut. Great grandfather Ready was thrown out, landing in a tree, his rosary beads in his hands. He was alive, and taken to the railroad hospital in Salida but never regained consciousness. 

Using Google Maps, I’d found the spot described. After driving past it, we realized our mistake, turned around and found it. There was a turnout at the side of the road. I parked, got out and clambered up to the top of the embankment. The long sweep of the esse curve was there, the road cut, them embankment. Hardly any trees today, but clearly this was The Spot. I took a few pictures, but both of us were mostly silent. 

It’s times like this that we can realize just how tenuous our lives are. All the “What If’s” crowd round in your mind. Again, time swirls, wiblly wobbly. What If? 

The Great Western States Trek-Part Deux or Let's Do the Time Warp Again!"

Road Trippin’ 

with Steve McCarthy

The Great Western Trek--Part Deux

Where were we. Ah, yes, as the sun rose higher over Monument Valley, we inched our way along, stopping in wonder as the ever changing landscape awed us with the majesty of it all. This really is one of the most incredible places on earth. Since there was no where to stop for food, we’d brought along our own breakfast of blueberry muffins and other assorted goodies we finally headed towards the Utah town of Mexican Hat. 

This little berg is on the San Juan River and looks to be a pretty good place to stay. Judging by the number of motels on the river, I’m betting it’s also a good place for fishing. We’d not tanked up the Mustang since Flagstaff and since Durango was another 150 or so miles, we bit the bullet and added some fuel at the only place in town that seemed open. The road through Mexican Hat (which, by the way gets its name from a neat rock formation that looks like a sombrero and is worth the trip on it’s own) US 160 is a great road. Good combination of twisty bits and open straights to give a good workout to car and driver. Be careful though, each time we’ve been through there, there’s been a local sheriff’s SUV parked near the river as you get into town. Yes, his radar was on, even at 7AM! No, we didn’t get tagged. Anyway, 160 takes you through Historic Bluff, Utah, which also is worth exploring, but we had our sites set on another target.

As you approach Cortez, CO (uh, remember the name of this little town!), you wind through some fairly flat land bordered by increasingly massive rock formations. You’ll miss going to Shiprock (a sight we took in on out last trip through here and definately worth seeing) and in particular, one massive monolith begins to dominate the landscape. This isn’t like the puny (by comparison) formations of Monument Valley, no, this sucker is BIG! The base is at some 6900 feet above sea level, but the peak is almost 9000 feet! This is also the site of the Mesa Verde (‘cause it’s a table top mountain and it’s covered with vegetation) Cliff Dwellings. this was were we were headed. One of the things we missed on our last tromp through the area were the various cliff dwellings. There’s four or five in this basic area. All are worth the trip, and Mesa Verde was right on the way, so…

This is another of those “Must See” places. Not that it’s easy. First, you have to get there. The road is good, but it’s inside a national park so the speed limit, the sharp elevation rise (at one over look, it’s like you’re flying in a small plane!) and it’s mostly hair pin turns. Not that we minded, but the rented motor home in front of us was having a hard time of it, sloshing water (hopefully, it wasn’t bright blue) from it’s overflow and wallowing like a whale in heat. It’s some twenty miles to the Visitor Center. There, if you are adventurous, you can get tickets for the ranger guided tours of the most spectacular dwellings. You’d better be in shape. We’re talking climbing 30 foot ladders to get in. We opted for the wimpy one. The park info sheet said it was only a 100 foot walk. What they weren’t clear on was that it’s 100’ STRAIGHT DOWN! The path (which is paved) winds down the canyon wall, making you want to hum “On the Trail” from Ferdy Groffe’s “Grand Canyon Suit,” you know, the bit that sounds like donkeys galumphing along? “Dum-ti-dum-ti dumpity-dum-ti-dum-ti dumpity…” We were “lucky.” We’d got there while the sun hadn’t yet started to shine directly into the canyon. It was “only” in the 80s (at about 10AM!) but the humidity that produced those great clouds earlier that morning was making us pay. Between that and the elevation, we were knackered by the time we got down there. 

I have to say, it was worth it. This stone age village is set back into a natural declivity in the canyon wall. Over the centuries (around 1200AD) the people who dwelled there filled in the slice out of the canyon wall with walls of their own, creating cubical like structures and digging down into the floor of the cliff to make underground storage and living spaces. It was fascination. The Rangers there were exceptionally knowledgeable and helpful,, not at all stuffy or arrogant or officious. It was crowded (but not really over crowded) with families from all over the US, talking, laughing, and having an awe-inspired good time. What was really neat to me, was that as we climbed back UP that damn cliff face, the sounds of their voices gave the place life. It must have been like that 800 years ago. Families laughing, chatting, getting on with their lives. It was like being able to peek through the dusty mirror of the past, getting an all too brief glimpse of life in an era so totally remote from ours, yet, not so terribly different. 

OK, pause to reflect on that nugget of philosophical nattering.

Gasping, puffing and panting, we reached the top and “civilization” and headed for the comfort of the museum. AIr conditioning IS one of the most important benefits of the modern world, and the museum has it in abundance. More importantly it has well thought out exhibits that explain what you’ve seen and the history of the place. I’ll not get into lecture mode, so you can relax. It is a fascinating story, visit (don’t just google it) and see it for yourself. 

We had lunch there, then headed back DOWN that mountain and on through the base of the Rockies to Durango. WE got to our motel (the Day’s End Motel, a place that has seen better days and smelled a bit too much of cleaning solvent. Not sure if we really recommend it beyond the fact that it was the cheapest place in town. There are a lot better places in the center of town, they’re pretty pricey, but if you can swing it, do it) and turned on the TV to see what the weather had to offer. “In the top of today’s news, a tornado touched down an hour ago in Cortez…” Wait a second, Cortez, as in the place we went through a few hours before? A tornado? Man, that’s as close to one of those suckers as I EVER want to get! Yes fans, keeping an eye on weather conditions is kinds important. 

Having showered (not that it mattered, as soon as we stepped out the we were dripping again) and changed, we headed downtown. Talk about timing! We finally found parking (don’t even THINK of using the Mickey D’s lot!) we wandered into the train station to learn that the train from Silverton was due in in an hour. OK, big deal you say. It IS a big deal! This is a railroad town, and not just any railroad town. This is the terminus of what is now the Durango and Silverton tourist railway. They run narrow gauge STEAM trains here. four or five a day. both ways! This was a major facility on the old Denver and Rio Grande RR. Narrow gauge means the tracks are only three feet apart, making it easier to negotiate the twists and turns on the way into the mining towns that were the raison d’etre for the rail road. The DR&G was also the rail road my great grandfather, Phillip Brian Ready worked for. It was while he was headed down Tennessee Pass that his brakes failed and he was killed. 

We toured through the museum located in part of the round house, the air filled with coal smoke as a locomotive was being readied for the next day’s run. Again, this was a step back in time. They say that smells are triggers to the memory. They are even more. The smell of the coal smoke, the noises of the crews working one the equipment were the same smells and sounds my great grandfather would have heard. When the train pulled in, announcing it’s approach with tooting whistle and clanging bell, chuffing and panting away, pulling the same passenger cars that were in operation a century ago, time swirled around me, jumping back and forth from present to past tense like a poorly written student composition. Who needs The Doctor to make things all timey-wimey-wiggly-woggly?