Almost Trailside: A True Story (3 page)

Our large tri-level home, built on a third of an acre lot in a wide cul-de-sac, was dirt and rocks when we first saw the land early in 1973. On the edge of Almaden Valley, it was just around the corner to the boy’s elementary school, close to several shopping centers, and easy access to the main thoroughfares. The quaint town of Los Gatos was a short five minute drive.

When our home was completed, we were the first family to move into the cul-de-sac. Across the street there were no houses, just a beautiful old fruit tree orchard carpeted with brilliant blooming mustard plants. Eventually, with time and progress, the old orchard was replaced by a bank of new single family homes and an upscale village of townhomes.

From the huge upstairs bedroom windows of our home, we had spectacular views all over the South Bay Area. I especially liked our master bedroom suite, upstairs at the front of the house. Sitting on the bed, resting against the headboard and a plump comfy pillow, I could easily see the cool green refreshing forested Santa Cruz Mountain range. I loved that view. It was my favorite place to rest, read, and relieve the stress of a hectic day and a busy life.

Our home was a bustling place with neighborhood children and the boy’s school friends visiting us daily. Summer time was even busier with swim parties and the boy’s friends often over for lunch or dinner and sometimes sleeping over night on the weekends.

Life was different then. It was simpler, but we didn’t think so at the time. There was no technology, not like today. No cell phone, no texting, and no Twitter. No eBay, no Amazon, and no Google. No flat screens, no high-definition anything, and no video
games except Pong and Pac-man. The boys played with toys, played monopoly and other board games, raced little Hot Wheels cars, rode bicycles, and played outside together or with friends. They had their share of scrapes and bumps like all little boys. Bactine or an ice cube wrapped in plastic soothed every minor injury.

It was fun when the boys were young and growing up. I tried to instill lessons for life that would benefit them as adults. We did the best we could for the times in which we lived. It wasn’t always perfect every single day, but it was pretty darn good most of the time.

Tommy was a dedicated employee, rarely taking time off away from work. Subsequently, he had accumulated a large number of sick days and vacation days.

Following a monthly upper management meeting, his boss requested that Tommy take at least four weeks of vacation time before the end of the year, or lose those days that he had earned. Human Resources didn’t want him to keep so much vacation time on the books. This was an unusual request and not one that a person is ever faced with normally during their working career.

We were talking about a driving trip to visit friends and relatives in the western states and now seemed like the perfect time to make some travel plans.

This night in mid May 1980, Tommy unfolded a huge map and spread it out on the kitchen table. We put an “x” on all of the cities we wanted to visit. Then with a yellow highlighter, we marked the freeways, highways, and country roads that would take us from point-to-point up through California, Oregon, and Washington; to Idaho, Wyoming, Utah, and Nevada; and back to
California. We were pleased with the big yellow circle that designated our route.

The cost of food and lodging for thirty days for the four of us and our little dog Buffy was now the focus. Tommy had an idea. He remembered seeing a small travel trailer with a For Sale sign on it parked out on the expressway. We could check it out in the morning.

The little travel trailer was shaped like a humongous turtle shell about fourteen feet long. Inside was a very small refrigerator, a tiny sink, a two burner cook top over a small oven, a port-a-potty closet, a small table that dropped down to make a bed for the boys, and a larger bed at the other end for Tommy and I. It was definitely compact but we both agreed that it might be fun so we purchased it. Our big Ford station wagon was already equipped with a trailer hitch.

We brought the little travel trailer home and parked it in our driveway. We cleaned it and scrubbed it inside and out. Now, we had everything we needed for our trip.

There is something to be said for
timing
. Our neighbors across the street just sold their home. When we told them we were leaving on July first to begin our thirty day trip, they approached us with a situation and an unusual offer.

They had to be out of their house on July first. Their new house wouldn’t be ready until August first. They wanted to move into
our
house for the month
of July while we were away. They offered to pay our mortgage payment and all of our utilities, keep our lawns mowed, and our gardens watered. It was an interesting proposition. After some consideration, we agreed to it.

Before the sun was up on July first, we slowly pulled away from our home to began the thirty day vacation with our sweet dog Buffy and new little travel trailer. Our first stop was Tommy’s mother’s house near
Grants Pass, Oregon
and the
Rogue River
. Tommy liked to drive so we easily made the trip in one day. He spent time talking on the CB radio, checking traffic and weather, and enjoyed music on the car radio. Sometimes we all sang along with him to his favorite songs.

Tommy’s mother and her husband retired from jobs in Silicon Valley, sold their home in the bustling South Bay, and moved to a small unincorporated town in Oregon just over the California state line. This was our first visit to their new home.

We entered their driveway in the early evening light. The property was impressive with lush green landscaping and beautiful mature forest trees. Nestled among the verdant trees was their crisp white house with a large wrap around front porch. They were waiting on the porch for us, standing arm-in-arm with wide welcoming smiles.

My mother-in-law was a marvelous cook, preparing traditional meals with thick mashed potatoes and heavy gravy, pot roast laden with garlic, deep green string beans, golden dinner rolls, and a freshly baked apple pie for dessert.

G
rants Pass, Oregon is an hour north of the California Oregon border and is the Josephine County seat. Its current population is about 35,000. Like many small towns, Grants Pass owes its existence and growth to the railroad and mining. The city was a bustling frontier town with dirt streets, hotels, and lots of saloons in the late 1800’s. The town matured and grew as industrialists came in search of gold. The county’s timber was also a useful resource. Lumber mills that are still in operation today, turned out wood products of all kinds that further escalated the small town’s growth. Farms and dairies were also prevalent. For a while, the county was a major U.S. producer of gladiola bulbs. Today tourism is a major industry in Grants Pass due in large part to the popular Rogue River wild life, fishing, and water sports
.

T
he Rogue River is located in southwestern Oregon and flows 215 miles from the Crater Lake area to the Pacific Ocean. The 84 mile National Wild and Scenic portion of the Rogue River begins 7 miles west of Grants Pass. The Rogue River is surrounded by forested mountains, rugged boulders, and rock-lined banks. Steelhead and salmon fishery, challenging whitewater, and extraordinary wildlife viewing opportunities have made the Rogue River a national treasure. Black bear, river otter, black-tail deer, bald eagles, osprey, Chinook salmon, great blue heron, water ouzel, and Canadian geese are common wildlife seen along the Rogue River. Along the Rogue River basin are some of the world’s best examples of rocks that form the earth’s mantle. Popular activities along the Rogue River include whitewater rafting, fishing, boat tours, scenic driving, hiking, picnicking, and sunbathing
.

After dinner, we watched television. They relaxed on recliner chairs. There was no other seating. We didn’t mind sitting on the deep carpeted floor up against the wall in their small cozy family room.

That night, we decided to sleep on the floor in their large living room in the sleeping bags we brought with us. Just before going to bed, Andy took Buffy outside. On his way back in, through the side laundry room, the door stuck. Andy pulled hard to open it and the entire door knob came off in his hand. Tommy had to bring his tools in to repair the broken door knob.

Meanwhile, I put the cold sleeping bags from the back of the station wagon, into my mother-in-law’s clothes dryer to warm them up. When I asked where the lint trap was so I could clean it, my mother-in-law said, “There isn’t any.” Tommy looked in all of the usual places. Then he noticed a seam along the bottom edge of the dryer. He put his fingers underneath and pulled. It was a huge lint trap, the largest we had ever seen, with a years worth of dense lint at least three inches thick. Tommy cleared the lint trap for his mother and showed her how to remove it and clean it. They were lucky that their clothes dryer never caught fire.

After breakfast the next morning, Tommy’s mother and husband took us on a driving tour of Grants Pass and the famous Rogue River. It was beautiful country. We could easily see why they were so happy there.

We were only able to spend two nights at Tommy’s mother’s house. They had their own travel plans and were leaving on a trip out-of-town the following day.

Chapter II

O
ur next stop was the historic town of Bremerton, Washington to visit our friends, Scott and Julie, who we had known since Tommy went to work for the Department of Defense. Tommy and Scott became good friends and often carpooled to work together. Tommy was a groomsman in their wedding.

When the California Base closures took place in 1975, Scott transferred to Puget Sound Naval Shipyard in Bremerton so that he could keep his time toward retirement with the Federal Government. We kept in touch since they moved away and were looking forward to seeing them and their two toddlers who we had only seen in pictures.

Along the way, we took a couple of short side-trips to
Crater Lake
in Oregon and
Mount St. Helens
in Washington. Our station wagon towed the little travel trailer perfectly.