Making The Most Of A Road Trip

 AAA projects 38 million Americans will take a road trip over Labor Day weekend…

These are snapshots of a world that opens to you on a road trip. Ten-foot walls of snow beside and canyon of blacktop before us, we ascend the road to Glacier Point, high above Yosemite valley on the first Spring Day it opens to vehicles.

Sandwiches at roadside stops hidden beside waterfall and alpine flowers; pink Mountain Pride and yellow Butterweed. Seals in San Francisco, dining with my daughter on Pier 39, summer hailstorms and the best build-your-own salad stop ever outside of Visalia (thank you Yelp!).

My first car was a white AMC Hornet, an oblong piece of steel with a steering wheel and crisscross olive upholstery that my dad purchased at a L.A. County used car auction. You could still see the shadow of a circle on the doors where the county emblem had been peeled off. To seventeen-year-old me it was the portal to adventure. It was a straight shot down the boulevard to the Hollywood Hills (cue Bob Seger), Ventura Freeway took me to the canyons and onto the coast. Always wondering what was beyond the bend. And so it began.

A warning about road trips. They are a doorway to adventure and a catalyst to heated arguments. The best man at my wedding nearly jumped out of the passenger door while we were driving through East Texas. My wife and I had our first fight (on our honeymoon) because of a wrong turn. Cooped up in a small space necessitates your ‘shot-gun’ and you get along better than most. Friends that require lunch at noon and dinner at five, the always sober and serious, those who choose schedule over serendipity will not be accompanying me.

The idyllic Instagram moments won’t happen if you stay attached to your phone. Ironic. Leave the highway. Look out the window. Eat at hole-in-the-wall places. I was first introduced to Peanut Butter whiskey at a roadside stop. I’ve had the best beef-barley soup ever off the beaten path, and the best breakfasts. Yes, you risk having the worst Tex-Mex meal of your life but it’s well worth it for the story.

Solo trips are worth it. Great bonds can be formed with family and friends. Don’t be the guy that won’t pull over until the destination. Plan for the big things like where to sleep but buffer that Google travel time for sightseeing. Take the old highway. If a girl at a roadside shop asks if you have neat handwriting; help her letter the sandwich board.

Sir Richard Burton once said, “The gladdest moment in human life, me thinks, is a departure into unknown lands.” Departure begins at the end of your driveway or at the car rental booth at the airport. If you let it, I promise you, the road will bring you to magnificent beauty, sumptuous road side stops and unique encounters with other human beings. Gas up the car!

 

 

Burgers, Chili-Sizes and Dining With Dad

Thinking about hamburgers.  Thinking about foods I enjoy.  Thinking about being introduced to those foods.  Thinking about my dad.  I remember going with dad to Tommy’s.  I didn’t like it then.  Kids like plain food. Though simple; Tommy’s is far from plain.  The basic burger with fresh tomato and lettuce and the famous chili in the burger.  Simple but so good.  There was a family outing to El Tepeyac—pork aplenty, fresh salsa, beans and house-made chips. (1, 728 reviews on Yelp.  4 stars).  Too hot, too spicy.  Today I could happily live on El Tepeyac and Tommy’s.  There is one strong link between burgers, chili and comfort that links childhood comfort and contemporary delight.

 

The chili-size at Bob’s Big Boy.   Dad missed segments, seasons and years of my life there was a season we frequented Bob’s Big Boy.   Always the Chili-size and a brownie for me.  I don’t remember what dad got.  I remember that we talked.  I still enjoy a good chili-size and I wonder if in part it’s because my senses recall the delight of those first experiences.

My memories disappear faster than snapchat photos so it’s tough to remember first experiences.  The first taste of a Butterfinger; first bowl of Capn’ Crunch, first Halvah, Gyro, Baklava…the list goes on and on.  Yet I remember when I fell in love with onion and bell-peppers atop a pizza.  I was alone for a week in Manhattan.  Walking the city, hungry, I stepped into a little café and bought a slice of pizza.  So simply straightforward but so richly delightful. 

Thinking about burgers I want to chart my favorite foods.  A food time-line of sorts.  So much I don’t remember.  Once in a while though a tasty treat will make connection with those neurons linking sense and memory.  If I linger there long enough; there it is---Baklava, yes, perhaps, the Greek Market.