We're back, that is, Lori and I have returned home from a three week trip that took us through most of the western states, first driving west on the southern I-40 and returning home in an easterly direction on the northern I-80. We traveled very near 5,800 miles. We decided we wouldn't make that long of a road trip again although we had a good time.
Our main goals were twofold. Our first objective was to visit Lori's ninety-nine year old aunt, Aunt Joey, a remarkable woman whose sense of the present is right here, right now, but she can easily recall past scenes, growing up on a farm on County Trunk D, about five miles northeast of Waupun with her brother "Lennie," Lori's deceased dad, Leonard.
Our main goals were twofold. Our first objective was to visit Lori's ninety-nine year old aunt, Aunt Joey, a remarkable woman whose sense of the present is right here, right now, but she can easily recall past scenes, growing up on a farm on County Trunk D, about five miles northeast of Waupun with her brother "Lennie," Lori's deceased dad, Leonard.
Aunt Joey gave me a ride on her golf cart throughout the gated community in which she has lived for many years. She obviously knows everyone, because everyone who was outdoors smiled as they called out her name and waved.
After visiting with Aunt Joey for three days, we made our way on a one-day trip to San Diego, California, and its world class zoo. The last time I visited the zoo I was in the Navy. I can recall a two-headed snake from those days and a very large Galapagos tortoise. Most of all, I remembered the lack of bars and cages. Animals were kept in enclosures similar to their old stomping grounds, if that was at all possible.
Sailors in those days were allowed to visit the zoo for a cut-rate price of five dollars each. Lori and I paid forty eight dollars each to get in. Unfortunately, I had forgotten to check the camera's battery, and I discovered it was soon exhausted. Some very nice zoo photographers let me charge the battery in an electrical outlet in their little shop. I'd charge it for about a half hour and then pick it up. When the battery was drained, I returned for a charge, performing that act three separate times.
After visiting with Aunt Joey for three days, we made our way on a one-day trip to San Diego, California, and its world class zoo. The last time I visited the zoo I was in the Navy. I can recall a two-headed snake from those days and a very large Galapagos tortoise. Most of all, I remembered the lack of bars and cages. Animals were kept in enclosures similar to their old stomping grounds, if that was at all possible.
Sailors in those days were allowed to visit the zoo for a cut-rate price of five dollars each. Lori and I paid forty eight dollars each to get in. Unfortunately, I had forgotten to check the camera's battery, and I discovered it was soon exhausted. Some very nice zoo photographers let me charge the battery in an electrical outlet in their little shop. I'd charge it for about a half hour and then pick it up. When the battery was drained, I returned for a charge, performing that act three separate times.
Pictured above is one strange looking bird. I couldn't detect its beak. I'm certain, however, it had one, somewhere, some place.
We arrived in San Diego on February 13, the next day being Valentine's Day. The motels had doubled their prices and we had to pay over two hundred dollars for a Super 8 room for one night. We had no other options.
By the way, gasoline in Texas, Oklahoma, and Arizona was $1.99 a gallon. Once we crossed the state line into California, the price increased to $3.29 a gallon.
After spending two days in San Diego, we then headed for our second goal: Visiting the USS Hornet CVS 12, an Essex class aircraft carrier I served on for a year many years ago. It is now a museum, moored in Alameda, across the bay from San Francisco.
We headed north on I-8 and then left the interstate highway for California State Highway 1, the "Coastal Road." I thought it was a good idea that Lori should see the Pacific Ocean.
Ocean? We spent about four hours, driving in Los Angeles County, the traffic bumper to bumper, which we discovered is true for nearly all California highways on any day, weekends included.
By the way, gasoline in Texas, Oklahoma, and Arizona was $1.99 a gallon. Once we crossed the state line into California, the price increased to $3.29 a gallon.
After spending two days in San Diego, we then headed for our second goal: Visiting the USS Hornet CVS 12, an Essex class aircraft carrier I served on for a year many years ago. It is now a museum, moored in Alameda, across the bay from San Francisco.
We headed north on I-8 and then left the interstate highway for California State Highway 1, the "Coastal Road." I thought it was a good idea that Lori should see the Pacific Ocean.
Ocean? We spent about four hours, driving in Los Angeles County, the traffic bumper to bumper, which we discovered is true for nearly all California highways on any day, weekends included.
Pictured above are cars on I-8. We were going six miles per hour on posted 65 mph lanes.
On Highway 1 for about five hours, we all of a sudden met something totally unexpected. Highway 1 was closed. Just like that. For what reason? We don't know. We had to return about thirty miles on 1 and then take a canyon road. Oh my God. You can't believe the mountain switchbacks we were on with over 7 per cent grades. Behind us was a number of young men riding crotch-rockets. I couldn't go to the side of the road because there wasn't a side of the road. The Crotch Rocket aces passed me, one by one, on curves, I might add. They scared the living you know what out of me. After about 1 ½ hours of mountain passes, we finally ran into I-8 once again. We were happy to find a motel that night.
The next day, we headed to Half Moon Bay only about 21 miles south of Alameda, where we had a motel reservation for three days. Ms. Garmin on our GPS headed us to State Highway 1. I was somewhat hesitant, but we thankfully discovered 1 was opened and its roadside scenery, spectacular.
The next day, we headed to Half Moon Bay only about 21 miles south of Alameda, where we had a motel reservation for three days. Ms. Garmin on our GPS headed us to State Highway 1. I was somewhat hesitant, but we thankfully discovered 1 was opened and its roadside scenery, spectacular.
Pictured above is the lighthouse on Half Moon Bay. We drove up to it a couple of days later when the sun was shining.
Our motel room was fantastic and the price was half that of San Diego's. The next morning, we headed the "21 miles," according to Garmin, which actually turned out to be 37 miles, to the former Alameda Naval Air Station. What a hectic ride. It was wall to wall traffic, with motorcyclists driving legally "between lanes."
On the way, I spotted a highway sign that pointed to Treasure Island. "That's where I was separated from active service," I told my bride. I didn't even know it was near San Francisco. All I knew is I flew from Hue City, Vietnam, to Tachikawa Air Force base in Japan to an air force base in Alaska and then to California. Ah, well. Finally, we arrived at the former Naval Air Station, and there she was: The USS Hornet.
On the way, I spotted a highway sign that pointed to Treasure Island. "That's where I was separated from active service," I told my bride. I didn't even know it was near San Francisco. All I knew is I flew from Hue City, Vietnam, to Tachikawa Air Force base in Japan to an air force base in Alaska and then to California. Ah, well. Finally, we arrived at the former Naval Air Station, and there she was: The USS Hornet.
I couldn't take a picture of the entire ship because I couldn't get far enough away from it. So, we waited to board her at 9 a.m. That is the first time I ever boarded the ship on the officers' gangway. We enlisted men used the gangway that is used as the museum's exit. I had to pay only for Lori because I am a member of the USS Hornet Association, Inc., the group of former crew members and officers that saved the ship from becoming razor blades and Honda automobiles. It was in terrible shape when we bought it, but the group that runs the museum is working hard to return the ship to its former self. They're doing an excellent job. We were now on the hangar bay deck.
Pictured above is only a small portion of the hangar bay. The hangar bay's deck is very thick steel, made so that bombs could not damage it very much.
Most of the people working on the ship, including the docents (guides) are volunteers. They seem to love their job. One docent assigned Lori to be helmsman of the huge ship that carried a crew of 3,500 sailors and officers.
Most of the people working on the ship, including the docents (guides) are volunteers. They seem to love their job. One docent assigned Lori to be helmsman of the huge ship that carried a crew of 3,500 sailors and officers.
Lori's responding to the "Captain's" orders as he told her not to touch the wheel's brass as that would take away the shine.
I was treated as a special guest because I was a former crew member. I thought I knew all about the ship's ordnance because I was responsible for inventory of all its stored ordnance in various magazines throughout the ship, including 50 mm, 100, 250, 500, and 1,000 lb. bombs, all small arms, including BAR's, 45's, torpedoes, and sidewinder light and heat seeking air to air missiles.
Out to sea and on armory watch, I had to check all magazine locks and the temperature of a specific magazine guarded by marines each and every hour. We were told that magazine held special sidewinders. I discovered the magazine's temperature was 94 degrees Fahrenheit. It was not supposed to be over 70. At once, I contacted the damage control officer, a "mustang," who started out as an enlisted sailor and was now a Lieutenant Commander, equal to a major of the other armed forces.
"That can't be," he told me on the phone.
"Sir, the thermometer shows that the magazine is ninety four degrees."
"Hold on. I'll be right there." Following him a few moments later was the executive officer, a Commander, equal to lieutenant colonels of the other forces. Right after the exec appeared, the captain showed up, equal in rank to a full bird colonel. Before he left our ship, he was promoted to Rear Admiral. The three officers kind of whispered to each other. Then, the captain told me, "You can go, son. We'll take care of this."
"Aye Aye, Cap'n," I replied. I discovered the next day from the Gunner that the men in the refrigeration department repaired the air conditioner in that magazine.
"Air conditioner?" I replied, realizing from the Gunner's looks that there'd be no more explanation. Lori and I learned on our tour that the particular magazine guarded by Marines held nuclear, atomic weapons, most likely "The bomb," said our guide.
Out to sea and on armory watch, I had to check all magazine locks and the temperature of a specific magazine guarded by marines each and every hour. We were told that magazine held special sidewinders. I discovered the magazine's temperature was 94 degrees Fahrenheit. It was not supposed to be over 70. At once, I contacted the damage control officer, a "mustang," who started out as an enlisted sailor and was now a Lieutenant Commander, equal to a major of the other armed forces.
"That can't be," he told me on the phone.
"Sir, the thermometer shows that the magazine is ninety four degrees."
"Hold on. I'll be right there." Following him a few moments later was the executive officer, a Commander, equal to lieutenant colonels of the other forces. Right after the exec appeared, the captain showed up, equal in rank to a full bird colonel. Before he left our ship, he was promoted to Rear Admiral. The three officers kind of whispered to each other. Then, the captain told me, "You can go, son. We'll take care of this."
"Aye Aye, Cap'n," I replied. I discovered the next day from the Gunner that the men in the refrigeration department repaired the air conditioner in that magazine.
"Air conditioner?" I replied, realizing from the Gunner's looks that there'd be no more explanation. Lori and I learned on our tour that the particular magazine guarded by Marines held nuclear, atomic weapons, most likely "The bomb," said our guide.
I darned near cried because of all the memories attacking me but I held back the tears.
The next day, the sun came out for the first time in Half Moon Bay. We headed to the beaches.
The next day, the sun came out for the first time in Half Moon Bay. We headed to the beaches.
Yellow flowers which we had not before seen, suddenly appeared.
On the day we left Half Moon Bay, we first visited the San Francisco Aquarium. We've been to the Chicago Aquarium, but it can't even hold a candle to Frisco's.
After our Aquarium visit, we headed north on I-80 and stayed the first night in a flophouse of a motel in Reno, Nevada. Cost: 44 bucks. The next day, we made it to a very nice motel slightly south of Salt Lake City, Utah, where we visited the Church of the Latter Day Saints tabernacle.
Our guides were young female missionaries from the Philippines and Connecticut. They were very nice and low key.
We now know why Mountain Time is called such. We drove over mountain passes through California, Nevada, Utah, Wyoming, and Colorado. Thank God for the boring flatness of Nevada and Iowa. We're happy to be back.
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