When I was discharged from the USAF, at Travis AFB, CA, I hopped into my 1960 Opal Kadett, with the rebuilt, but still rumbling transmission, to drive cross country and resume pursuit of my BSEE.
I hopped on I 80, climbed the impressive mountain range between Sacramento and Reno, chugged across the NV desert , and then the Bonneville Salt Flats - all at a top speed of 55 mph. At times, Id be the only car on the road. Id check my rear-view mirror a dozen times and see nothing but open road. Then, Id hear a roar, see a cloud of dust, as a car went by me like I was standing still. Then nothing. Til the next car. And the next.
Eventually I made it to SLC, got bogged down a bit in city traffic and was almost nailed by a lane-changing speedster. That was my one and only close call on this cross-country trip home in my first ever car.
Loong days of trying to cross endless Nebraska ( sunrise til sunset), followed by crossing into Iowa, at about 11pm.
A few years earlier, I was stationed in France, and dating a college exchange student from STL, who was attending the U of Strasbourg. Across the hall, in modest apartment building, was her best friend, a very New Yorkish Long Islander, and a rebel. We three spent a lot of time together on day trips around Alsace and got to know her and like her. We spent one memorable, very solemn day touring a Nazi concentration camp in rural Alsace, and then the next night at a party at the US Consulate, in Strasbourg, with the vice-consul, her staff, and their friendly French acquaintances. I spent part of my time talking with my girlfriend, and with the others in attendance, but got to know and see Patty in a different light. She was fun and we thought along the same lines.
Fast forward, after France, to my 9 months in Tripoli, Libya, and then 1 year in CA. The friend and I stayed in touch. She had found an Iowan to her liking and they became engaged. As things turned out, she was visiting his parents in Onawa, on the very day I was driving through Iowa, and she gave me their address via snail mail of course. So as I approached Iowa, I decided to make a minor detour. Got there around 1 am. The house lights were off so I slept in my car, parked in from of the to-be parents-in-law's house until the sun came up and I saw signs of life. Knocked on the door and introduced myself. the lady of the house invited me in and woke up my friend Patti, who came down to greet the unexpected stranger now sitting in her future parents-in-laws house. We had a laugh as I explained my trip over a hearty Iowan breakfast. By that time the puzzled fiancée had joined us and eventually he warmed to the situation. Patti and Skip soon were married and moved to DC, where I visited them several times in between jobs, usually staying at my parents new retirement home in Lancaster.
So after a morning of catching up, followed by a hearty lunch, I pointed the Opel ( or was it Opal?) east and spent the rest of the day croooooossing Iooooooowa, and the next day arrived in State College, looking for last minute housing. All the good places were taken. and I wound up in a farm house just outside SC, owned by a wonderful elderly couple named Mr and Mrs. Duck. I kid you not. (Saying their name still brings a smile to my lips.) Salt of the earth people, ( Mr Duck wore bibb overalls every day) they showed great hospitality and warmth to the handful of students who rented various upstairs rooms from them. It was like one big happy family.
OK. That's my Iowa story, and it's definitely OT. But a good time was had by all.
I hopped on I 80, climbed the impressive mountain range between Sacramento and Reno, chugged across the NV desert , and then the Bonneville Salt Flats - all at a top speed of 55 mph. At times, Id be the only car on the road. Id check my rear-view mirror a dozen times and see nothing but open road. Then, Id hear a roar, see a cloud of dust, as a car went by me like I was standing still. Then nothing. Til the next car. And the next.
Eventually I made it to SLC, got bogged down a bit in city traffic and was almost nailed by a lane-changing speedster. That was my one and only close call on this cross-country trip home in my first ever car.
Loong days of trying to cross endless Nebraska ( sunrise til sunset), followed by crossing into Iowa, at about 11pm.
A few years earlier, I was stationed in France, and dating a college exchange student from STL, who was attending the U of Strasbourg. Across the hall, in modest apartment building, was her best friend, a very New Yorkish Long Islander, and a rebel. We three spent a lot of time together on day trips around Alsace and got to know her and like her. We spent one memorable, very solemn day touring a Nazi concentration camp in rural Alsace, and then the next night at a party at the US Consulate, in Strasbourg, with the vice-consul, her staff, and their friendly French acquaintances. I spent part of my time talking with my girlfriend, and with the others in attendance, but got to know and see Patty in a different light. She was fun and we thought along the same lines.
Fast forward, after France, to my 9 months in Tripoli, Libya, and then 1 year in CA. The friend and I stayed in touch. She had found an Iowan to her liking and they became engaged. As things turned out, she was visiting his parents in Onawa, on the very day I was driving through Iowa, and she gave me their address via snail mail of course. So as I approached Iowa, I decided to make a minor detour. Got there around 1 am. The house lights were off so I slept in my car, parked in from of the to-be parents-in-law's house until the sun came up and I saw signs of life. Knocked on the door and introduced myself. the lady of the house invited me in and woke up my friend Patti, who came down to greet the unexpected stranger now sitting in her future parents-in-laws house. We had a laugh as I explained my trip over a hearty Iowan breakfast. By that time the puzzled fiancée had joined us and eventually he warmed to the situation. Patti and Skip soon were married and moved to DC, where I visited them several times in between jobs, usually staying at my parents new retirement home in Lancaster.
So after a morning of catching up, followed by a hearty lunch, I pointed the Opel ( or was it Opal?) east and spent the rest of the day croooooossing Iooooooowa, and the next day arrived in State College, looking for last minute housing. All the good places were taken. and I wound up in a farm house just outside SC, owned by a wonderful elderly couple named Mr and Mrs. Duck. I kid you not. (Saying their name still brings a smile to my lips.) Salt of the earth people, ( Mr Duck wore bibb overalls every day) they showed great hospitality and warmth to the handful of students who rented various upstairs rooms from them. It was like one big happy family.
OK. That's my Iowa story, and it's definitely OT. But a good time was had by all.
