So there we were...

...Two twenty-something, self-appointed manly men, on our first substantial leave from USS First Ship. We had decided to go to Minneapolis. From San Diego. In the winter. Without, it would seem, putting a great deal of thought into it. (A real picture from that trip. Me in the middle and Steve on the right. Brother Dave is on the left)

So we walked out the gate and hailed a cab. "Take us to North Island", we said, "we're catching us one of them free planes to Minnesota." He allowed as how he didn't think it worked that way and we allowed as how he ought to just drive. Sheesh Marie... who was the naval expert here, us or him?

When we got down to Naval Air Station North Island, on the air side and to the MAC terminal, we got out, paid the exorbant fare and started off. "I'll wait here for you", he said and we laughed and told him go ahead, but we're going to Minnesot so you'll be waiting a while.






"I guess we were wrong", we told him 45 seconds later when we came back out, now fully aware that San Dog to Minnesota was not a scheduled route, you need to call ahead and something else that I have since forgotten. But what I did retain, in fact retain to this day, is that we weren't getting there from here today. Hmmmm. Plan B, I suppose. Yep, plan B will be executed post haste. As soon as we come up with it. The airplane thing had seemed foolproof. But we had underestimated the fools.

Plan B involved a ride to the rough part of town, another exorbant taxi fare and a Greyhound Station. We knew Plan B was gonna suck. We just hadn't yet realized how much.

By pooling our remaining money we could buy 2 tickets and have a combined $8 left over. Back in the day, taking off on a cross country journey with $4 each seemed reasonable enough and was not even something to cause me to pause. We boarded the bus, took window seats and settled in. Though I did not realize it at the time, Travelin' Ed was born.

First rest stop was Winslow, AZ. So naturally I had to depart the bus, walk the half a block to the end of the block and begin "standing on the corner in Winslow, Arizona". Of course I was looking for "the girl, my lord, in a flat bed Ford slowing down to take a look at me." Never saw the girl but I got to keep the story. Fair enough.

Next rest stop was Reno, NV. Here we had one of our first brilliant ideas. We can take our $8, go into the slot machine room, and come out with enough money to make the remaining trip a little more comfortable. $50 or $60 seems reasonable enough. Without having to touch our paychecks, which I'll explain in a moment.

A minute and a half later we had deposited all $8 into a Reno truckstop's slots, were broke and already hungry and just brimming with new lessons learned about how life is not always fair, not even a little.

Luckily, we still had a paycheck each. We had gotten on the bus Friday without first cashing them. Why? Because we were impatient and wanted to get going now...now...NOW! That's why.

Back then, there were no Saturday banking hours and for sure none on Sunday. So for at least 2 more days the checks were little more than pieces of paper. The situation was of some minor concern, but not enough for us to sweat it. Yet.

Other traveler's, feeling sorry for us would give us an apple or a candy bar or a biscuit throughout the day. It was hit and miss what, if anything, we'd be eating, but we were young and we were on an adventure. So really, who cares?

There is more to this adventure. To be continued.

Melts in your...well, not in your hand, out
Ramblin' Ed