Once upon a time, there was no GPS. You needed to at least glance at a road map. It’s about 1963. I had driven from Charleston to DC to visit my mom. It was now time to head back to Charleston.
I did look at a map. It said I could take US 17 from Richmond all the way to Charleston. US 17 was called “The Coastal Highway”. Wow, that must mean you can see the coast, right? Wrong!! I purposely avoided the Interstate and took US 17.
“Where the hell is the coast? “ I asked myself, as I drove through many small towns with lots of traffic lights. Never within 10 miles of the coast. Lots of pretty hills, dales, small town Americana, but no ocean view. Oh well, lesson learned for. a young, relatively new, driver. What’s an extra hour or two driving time?
Now, let’s move the clock a mere 25 years or so, for my next auto adventure. This one includes my lovely wife, Marjorie. In 1988, I was luckily assigned to attend a short course at the Navy Post Graduate School in Monterey, California. At the end of the course our plan was for Marjorie to fly to San Francisco. Then, we would, together, enjoy the sights, sounds and wonderful foods of that city and that part of the California coast, including Big Sur.
So here we are, in San Francisco. Had a great dinner at Fisherman’s Wharf, Bouillabaisse, avec Chablis, and lots of crusty French bread (yum). Then we decided to explore that great, hilly city in western US by auto. Neither of us knew squat about San Francisco, but I’m a professional navigator, right? LOL
It was night. It was dark. I came to a fork in the road. I shoulda bared right. Nope, I went left. The road got very bumpy. We had managed to get on a San Francisco railroad track (I kid you not). A railroad track. Yeah, it was bumpy. And How do I get offa this thing before I see the headlights of another train coming at us??
Well, we got off safely. Had a great laugh and, after a nice night at a San Fran hotel, we started a wonderful auto journey across the western US to our lovely home at Scott AFB, Illinois. Fast forward another 30+ years to 2022.
Marjorie and I have been living the good life in the Holy City of Charleston for 30 years, since I retired from the Air Force in 1991.
We were planning our road trip to Waynesboro, Virginia to visit and provide some support and comfort to Marjorie’s wonderful sister, Mary Louise, who was having a Memorial service for her beloved husband, Jerry, who had recently passed.
Marjorie was not crazy about me driving long distance with my pacemaker snd several other fun things. We convinced her brother, Harry, to ride/ drive with us from Charleston to Waynesboro. Marjorie had another request/ demand. She wanted to stop at a Steak and Shake for lunch. There was one on the north side of Charlotte. We enjoyed a nice lunch there and started back to Waynesboro, Harry at the wheel. I was the naviguesser. Too bad. First, we took a wrong turn out of Charlotte and had trouble getting back to the interstate. Then we hit a traffic jam of unknown time delay. Harry and I were both not good at sitting and waiting. I suggested we turn off the jam and go west a bit to avoid the jam and get back to the interstate toward Waynesboro. Good idea but didn’t work well.
There was no way back to the Interstate for about an hour. We, actually, went in and out of West Virginia. Added about an hour to our drive. Obviously, I/we took a lot of heat about navigational skills when we finally joined the family in Waynesboro. Thanks, Harry, for giving me someone else to blame and for the makings of a good Sitcom story. Enuf.