It was 1970.  Our family car was a dark green Ford Country Squire complete with wood-paneling on the side (think National Lampoon’s Vacation) and my parents packed me, Keith and Neal into the car for a 2 week driving vacation to California.   (Can I say right here they were NUTS to let Todd stay home alone – that’s another story though).   We dropped by the Rouses’ house on the way out where Lisa had packed us a bunch of snacks, hard candy and for this eight year old girl – the biggest lollipop I had ever laid eyes on.

My parents’ best friends ‘Aunt Enid and Uncle Bill’ lived in San Diego, our final destination, but we followed a random route through Colorado, down to 4-corners in Arizona and over to San Diego.   I will never forget going through Colorado over the mountains following this road that went through Wolf Creek Pass.  A 2-lane road, with us on the outside with a sheer drop down to a river so far down it looked like a trickle of a creek.  The oncoming traffic was against a sheer cliff wall.  No shoulders, no guard rails.  My mother just jabbering at my dad while he was trying to drive until he finally had to ask her to stop talking.  My brother Neal teasing me about how if we went over the cliff and actually survived that crocodiles lived in that river and they would eat me anyway.  On the other side of the mountain at the bottom of the pass was a small general store.  I swear the guy was giggling when we walked in and he saw the look of terror mixed with relief on our faces.  In talking with my dad, he said it’s rare a traveler will come over the pass and not need to stop at his store.  Perhaps THAT was really why he was grinning.

We went to the Grand Canyon on our way to San Diego.   I have never seen anything as stunning.  I’m pretty sure this is where I developed my fear of heights, however.  Back then there was nothing more than a wooden rail between your viewing area and going over the edge of a cliff.  As we were standing there looking, my brother Keith grabs my shoulders from behind and says “Save Your Life!”.   You know that old trick kids play on each other.  We used to do it all the time, but these days, I can barely look out a 2nd story window – thanks Keith!

After the Grand Canyon, we made our way through deserts and on to 4-Corners.  Until we finally made it to San Diego.  Aunt Enid and Uncle Bill lived in a new neighborhood out on the edge of the desert.  There was a dead end of what I remember to be a large hill of dirt and scrub brush.  Neal and the boys would go out hunting snakes in the afternoons and we would go back to our hotel (more like what today would be a suite with a kitchenette) and go swimming.  Marco-Polo was a favorite game to play and we would see who could do the best cannon-ball and make the biggest splash.

An important thing to know about me, especially when I was little, is that I get HORRIBLE car sickness.  I know now that was one of the key reasons Lisa Rouse gave us all that hard candy – it was her effort to keep my stomach settled for 2 weeks of driving.  This came into play when we drove from San Diego down to visit Tijuana Mexico.  I was feeling poorly the whole drive and by the time we got the to lot where cars are left on the US side and you walk across the bridge to the Mexico side, I needed to be ill.  Without any alternative, my Dad handed me a paper bag to get sick in.   After I was done, he rolled up the top and put it on the roof of the car, saying we would dispose of it when we got back from Tijuana.

We had a blast in Tijuana.  Our cab driver called himself “Chicken Driver” and was our tour guide.  We went to all the booths to shop and my mother thoroughly enjoyed haggling with the sales people.  She went back to one of them three times and finally “won” to purchase a HIDEOUS velvet painting of some tall mast sailing ship on a stormy sea.  That painting hung in our TV room for many more years than it should have!

After a long day in Tijuana, we made our way back to the car for the drive back to San Diego.  As we approached the car, prepared to take the package we had left on the roof of the car to be disposed of, we were surprised to see it was gone!

To this day, I wonder if some poor guy grabbed that bag and ran thinking he was going to get some free leftovers or a bag lunch that someone had forgotten.  I imagine his surprise when he opened it…….and I smile just a bit.  🙂