Atlanta to San Francisco in 4, Make That 12, Days

I should have known what was in store for me on my journey across the country, long before it got started. My last few days in tech school at Chanute AFB in Illinois, were not my idea of a good time. They were cold and rainy, and lay the framework for a picture being painted right before my unseeing eyes. We had to march in formation to school each day, despite the weather conditions. I was so looking forward to my 15 days leave in my hometown of Atlanta, that it didn't matter. Ten of those fifteen days were spent in bed with bronchitis, acute sinusitis, and a deep chest infection, courtesy of the USAF. Years later I learned that I could have been reimbursed for those days I was ill on leave.

Well, I survived the illness, and began planning my drive across the country to my first duty station, Travis AFB near San Francisco. Everything was set, only thing left to do was to get a car. With the money I had saved from being in tech school (there wasn't a lot for a GI with no means of transportation to do at Chanute AFB), I managed to put a down-payment on a 1977 VW Scirrocco. "Cool Car", I thought. This was going to be fun. Loaded up the car with everything of importance to me (my stereo), and off I went.

Saturday, DAY 1 - As I left the city I had grown to love early that Saturday morning, I frequently stopped to take pictures. "It may be a long time before I get back this way", I thought to myself. I again stopped to buy a case of motor oil, and other munchies to keep me occupied along the route. I was figuring on arriving at my base in four days, ~expectations~, giving me one day to spare for recuperation before hitting the runway. Everything was going fine; I was making excellent time, I thought. Through the north Georgia mountains I drove, taking for granted the splendid rainbow of colors throughout the hills, for I would not see such a display for a long time to come. Onward through Tennessee, and into Kentucky. I was making great time for my first day. Then it happened. Somewhere in Kentucky, my "cool car" began to sputter a bit. I continued on, and so did the sputtering. After pulling over and peering cautiously at the underside of my "piece of junk car", I found that it was bleeding oil all over the place. I wonder now, how many people cursed me all day as I threw oil all over their windshields. Only one thing to do in the middle of nowhere - fill up the oil, and move out. The performance of the engine eventually digressed to the point of no return (or is that continuance), I concluded. I tried stopping at little fly by night garages, but "we don't work on them little foreign jobbers", was all I seemed to get in response from the mechanics. I was advised that the nearest VW dealership was up the road a piece in Columbia, MO, so that was my target. After many toiling hours, and 15 quarts (I kid you not) of oil, I reached Columbia, found the dealership, and parked that "piece of shit car" in the parking lot. I would have to wait until Monday though for it to open. So I walked a ways back in to town, found a cheap hotel, and checked in. ~satisfaction~

Sunday, DAY 2 - Really thrilled with my little room and black and white TV. Bought some food, chips and the like, and wasted away my day.

Monday, DAY 3 - Back to the VW dealership. I explained "to them" what happened, and after several hours of evaluation, they explained "to me" what happened. My engine was shot. As if I didn't know, I am dealing with rocket scientists here I think. "We can rebuild it, we have the technology". ~advancements~ I knew that, but just how much was this technology going to cost, and how long was it going to take? Seeing as how they needed parts they didn't have, I was given Friday as a suitable day for completion and a rough estimate of eleven hundred dollars as the cost. Just do it.

At this point, I felt it wise to call my future shop chief and let him know that his new "slick-sleeve", a term used to describe a new recruit in reference to the lack of stripes on his sleeve, was going to be AWOL. He was quite understanding of the situation, told me to take care of it, and that we would sort out the mess when I arrived. I ended up having to take an advance in leave in order to cover my time. Really making good use of that 30-days leave per year to this point aren't I? Faced with the idea of lounging in my fancy little suite at the Ritz for five more days was not sitting well with me either. So, I rented a Rabbit (gulp) from the dealership, made my way to the local K-Mart, and bought just enough fishing gear to get me by. I even treated myself to a nice steak dinner that night. My last hoo-rah, one might say.

Tuesday through Friday, DAY 4 through DAY 7 - This time, was actually spent well. I really enjoyed myself. I went fishing everyday at a quaint little lake near Columbia, and caught something each time I was there. Oh, how I wanted to eat those fish, especially that 2-3 pound catfish I caught my last night there, but my Ritz had no kitchen, I had not yet tried sushi, and felt like then was not the time to try it. I managed to find someone each night before I left the lake who was willing to abscond with my catch. During my nights in Columbia, I often walked across the street to a very strange night club, filled with just as strange people. Six months earlier, I would have felt right at home, but sporting my new "pinger" haircut (pinger is a term used for recruits fresh out of basic training. It is in reference to the hair standing up straight all over the head, as it begins it's growth back from when it was shaved off 6 weeks prior), felt a bit out of place. I enjoyed it just the same.

By late afternoon on my seventh day, my "cool again car" was ready. After paying my fourteen-hundred and six dollar bill, I was left with about sixty-five dollars to finish my journey. ~sacrifice~ "If I don't eat, and I sleep in the car, I think I can make it to California". Off I went, on the road again. I drove well into the morning of day number eight.

Saturday, DAY 8 - Into Kaaaannnnsssaaasss, a very wide state indeed! Exhausted, and tired of being cooped up, my eyes began to weigh awfully heavy. It was 4 AM. ~nature~ My head would, seemingly as if on a course of it's own, turn towards those highway motels we so often hurry past, as I passed them by, only wanting to drop in for a night this time. But I just sped on past, knowing I was driving my hotel. The rain had started about two hours prior, torrential at times. The storm continued to rage. The lightening was so severe, I thought at times I was in a hospital, getting barraged by steady streams of x-rays. I finally had to stop, the rain would put me to sleep. I could take no more.

I don't recall what time I awakened, only that it was earlier than I thought, and later than I wanted. Looked at myself in the mirror, "no time for a shower, I have to get going". I stopped at the next "inconvenience store" I came across for gas and breakfast, a package of delicious white powder doughnuts, and a nice half-pint of milk. Mmmmmmm, so scrumptious. I am really doing this trip up to no limit! Boy, Mom would be so proud. I drove what seemed to be ten years across the state of Kansas. It was either straight and flat, or if I turned my head for a change of scenery, I got flat and straight. Whichever way I looked, all was the same. I wondered if I was even moving at times. What day is it anyway? Why do I even care? The rain had subsided, and left only dark storm clouds hovering over me, as if trying to tell me something else was going to happen to me. Sad thing is, I was starting to believe it. After pumping more petrol into my pumpkin, I was into Colorado, and almost out of cash. I now knew I would not have enough cash to reach my destination, and hated the idea of again being stranded. ~fear~ So, much to my dismay, for I hate asking for help, and despise failing at anything, I decided to stop at Lowry AFB in Denver. I was not stupid, I knew that wherever I went, if there was a base, I would be taken care of, and I was. My options were to become stranded and AWOL again, or let Lowry put me up in billeting (base motel) for the weekend, and hit the Air Force Aid Society office first thing Monday for an advance in pay. I chose the latter.

Sunday, DAY 9 - Breakfast in the mess hall (does it get any better?), and a quick look around the base. I was thinking to myself, "this would not be a bad duty station." I went into the local area of Denver that afternoon to scout things out a bit. Wasting time mostly. The road leading into, and out of, the base was truly gorgeous. A four lane, separated in the middle by a median filled with large leafy trees which cast speckled shadows down on me as I passed by the spacious looking colonial type homes lining each side of the drive. Yes, Lowry would not be bad. I was feeling peaceful now. ~relief~

Monday, DAY 10 - My embarrassing moment with the Air Force Aid Society was past me now, and I had three-hundred dollars in my pocket as well. Now things are looking brighter. The time in the AF Aid Society office took up most of the morning, and by the time my trek was jump-started again, it was early afternoon. I had already decided that I would make it as far as Salt Lake City this day. It would not take long, I could relax? I knew a friend who had moved there after high school. I would hopefully be able to find him in the book.

I had passed Cheyenne, WY about an hour earlier. For some reason, unbeknownst to me, I decided to exit the freeway at a spot that just looked to inviting to pass on. I was far from any city for sure. The freeway exit was a dead-end to the right, man's pavement halted by what looked like an overpowering forest. Looked good to me, so I stopped the car, and started doing a little hiking through the woods. After about 15 minutes, I came across a small clearing with a large fallen tree. The air had a bit of a bite to it, but not at all uncomfortable. I sat upon the fallen limbs of nature, and just chilled out for awhile. So peaceful and quiet. I could see forever from this clearing. Down below me in the distance, I was able to make out the presence of twin lakes at the bottom of a huge valley. One was quite small, the other rather large. I really had to fight off the urge to go back to the car, unpack the fishing gear, hike down and go fishing. Instead, I just sat on the log, for a good hour, in awe of what was confronting me. ~tranquility~ I felt such an inner peace at that moment, almost as if nothing else mattered. I could have sat in that exact spot and not moved for days. I was as one with my log...Wake up and smell the coffee soldier!

It was dark by the time I reached Salt Lake City. I looked John up in the book. ~memories~ Shocked, to say the least, was his reaction to hearing my voice. It had been about 3 years since we last spoke. I was graciously welcomed into his home by John and his new bride. We spent the rest of the evening sipping beers on his front stoop, until the coolness of the night air forced our retreat inside.

Tuesday, DAY 11 - I was awakened the next morning to the aroma of coffee and bacon. Kim had thoughtfully fixed me a nice breakfast to send me on my way. John had already left for work, and left me a note telling me how pleasant the visit had been. I thought to myself how happy I was for John to find a good woman to settle down with. He had many troubled years earlier at the hands of another, which I thought had possibly screwed his head up for life. Time now to be on my way. I was amazed, when I walked across the porch where I was perched the previous evening, to see the astounding view I had been staring blindly into just hours before. I could see nothing but a snow capped mountain bearing down on me. Quite breathtaking at first glance.

Off I went, with my day's goal standing in Reno, Nevada. From there it would be one more easy drive to my base, which I could easily take care of the following day. Besides, I had never gambled before, and I was not going to miss out on this chance. I deserved some fun after what I had been through, and for what I would soon encounter. Reno came with ease, I was there far before sunset. Checked myself into a motel, and grabbed a bite to eat. After filling up the car, I was looking at about one hundred and twenty dollars still. Enough to have a good time. Then I started wondering about what kind of a good time I wanted to have. I had heard many stories about the looseness of Nevada. I knew I couldn't eat my cake (gamble) and have it too (woman), so I chose to gamble. Besides, if I won at that, then I could have that cake after all! Sounded like a well thought out decision on my part. I was quite proud of myself, and determined to win.

Wednesday, DAY 12 - I lost, and left Reno with just enough money for a soda on the way. Oh well, it was fun anyway. I reached my base by early afternoon. My shop chief checked me into the squadron, and decided to give me the grand tour of the base in his big 1973 green Caddy Coupe De Ville. He was so short, you could not even see him in it when he sat behind the wheel. We drove past the dorms, "That's the dorms", he said, past the exchange, "That's the BX", past the commissary, "That's the commissary", (to me, it seemed we were making a bee-line for the front gate), past the front gate, "That was the front gate", until we ended up stopping in a parking lot just off base. "This is the bar", ~dependency~ "Let's have a beer", and this begins another whole story.