A Roadtrip to Remember

In the spring of 1968 my brother, Bill, needed some help. His duties as a Naval officer required him to report to Hawaii soon and he wanted to ship his 1962 VW Beetle from San Francisco to Oahu. He asked me if I wanted to share the driving from Michigan to California with him. He didn't need to ask twice. I was all in. . .

Our plan was to generally follow the classic Route 66 path from Chicago to LA before heading north to the Bay Area. We didn't have much money but, luckily, gas was only 35¢ a gallon in those days. Along the way, we made side trips to some amazing places. The Mississippi River. The Gateway Arch. The Grand Canyon. Las Vegas. The Santa Monica Pier. Hollywood. The Golden Gate. For me, a young guy who had never been west of Kalamazoo, it was an incredible adventure. But it wasn't always fun.

Two Michigan boys at the Grand Canyon’s edge

A few days into the trip, we spent the night in a cheap motel in Grants, New Mexico, about an hour west of Albuquerque. Between the highway noise and the rock-hard mattresses, there was little chance for a good night's sleep. Not a great way to start the next leg of our journey. The goal was Las Vegas, 630 miles away, including a detour to the Grand Canyon's South Rim.

Our trusty Bug with a snake-wrapped bumper

Thanks to the long drive and road construction delays, it was after midnight when we arrived in Vegas, exhausted and cranky. We had assumed there would be no problem finding a room. We had assumed wrong. Major conventions were in town and Sin City was booked solid. Bill and I probably looked ridiculous. Two frustrated, sleep-deprived brothers yelling at each other and careening around in a VW Bug, trying to find someone, ANYONE, to rent them a room for the night!

At last, we got a tip about a vacancy at the Westward Ho Hotel on the north end of the Strip. We zoomed over there as fast as we could and snapped up the room. The two red-eyed desperadoes finally hit the jackpot in The City that Never Sleeps.

Who knew the Golden Gate was rusty red?

The next day we made it to LA and our first view of the Pacific Ocean. A couple of days later, we were in San Francisco and it was time to head home. Bill gave me a ride to the airport and I got my last look at his trusty VW Beetle. The big snake we found somewhere in the desert was still wrapped around the front bumper. What an unforgettable road trip it had been. I remember thinking about how lucky I was to have such a great brother.

And that's the way the story goes.