Our family summer vacations were two-week road trips up Hwy 99 or Hwy 101 to visit with relatives in Chico and Oakland. When we took Route 99, there were stops in Bakerfield, Fresno and Oroville to see family and friends.
This was during the 1950s and 1960s. Stopping for gas or something to eat gave me my my first exposure to bigotry and hate. My father knew where we probably would not be welcomed and tried to avoid them. On our only road trip that didn’t go north, he decided we’d do a tour of the western-theme towns of Arizona. It was fun to see the relics of scenes we saw on TV shows. But that trip turned out to be traumatic experience for my younger brother, Carlos.
We stopped at a restaurant in Nogales, Arizona. The waitress came to the table, told us we were not going to be served and demanded that we leave. When we got back to the station wagon, the only type of car my father ever drove, he told us that Carlos was the reason we weren’t served because he was too dark-skinned. He meant it as a joke, but Carlos didn’t think it was funny. In fact, I think it was a traumatic incident for him that had impact on the rest of his life. He was dishonorably discharged from the Army for being consistently AWOL. He was married when he joined, had a son. But during one of those AWOL occurrences had another son with a different baby-mama. Over time he became an alcoholic, could not hold a job, was in and out of jail until, tragically, he fell down a flight of stairs to a mysterious death at the age of 41.
More hard life lessons learned, but it didn’t dampen my joy of the road trip.
As I write this, I’ve just returned from my annual road trip to the Central Coast. This one was special since it was physically challenging due to health issues. I’m in the process of healing from a botched back surgery. It limits my ability to walk, but not my skills and thrills driving my beloved Alfa Romeo Stelvio!
This year, my destination was Pismo Beach. My accommodations were one block from the beach and every morning, I’d pull out my trekking poles and cruise the boardwalk. I must admit, I felt a lot of grief remembering how I used to take 4-mile walks on the beach collecting sand dollars. I saw them as symbols of prosperity!
As I’m healing, I’ve set an intention to do what I’m able to do and not let this temporary disability stop me from living a Life of joy. What was really special about this year’s trip was a stop in Paso Robles to see dear friends I met in the 1980s when I worked for Tandem Computers. The two of them are enjoying Life and, grateful, like me, to be aging as gracefully as possible.
I love it when the drive takes me through the California’s “breadbasket”, south of Salinas and north of Paso. Our central valley produces a significant amount of the country’s fruit, vegetables and nuts. To me, it’s all God!
But this year, I observed something troubling – how there seemed to be only half of the workers I usually see. As I passed the fields those few were tending, I sent up a prayer for their safety and blessed them for their courage.
I’ve been doing this road trip since 2014, with the except the pandemic’s interruption in 2020 and 2021. I’ve had stays in Monterey, Big Sur, Cambria, Paso Robles, Morro Bay, and San Luis Obispo. Delightful examples of the beauty of California’s coast!
But some things haven’t changed. The central valley is Republican, MAGA territory. Trump signs everywhere! Still, that didn’t diminish my joy! Everyone has the right of free speech. At least for now!
So I’m grateful for everything I experience in the flow of Life – all the adventure and wisdom it brings. My road trips add the joy!
