Six Years Of Work And No Play	Back to the Current Issue Back to Features
Remembering life 40 years ago on our “Honeymoon Trip” - by Helmut & Anna Petrak helmut_petrak@bc.sympatico.ca

Six years of work and no play, no holidays, not even a honeymoon – this had been our lot so far and now was the time to take a good long vacation.

This was when our plans for an extended trip through the U.S. were formulated. The wheels started rolling, we sold our house, furniture and bought a trailer light enough for our small European car to pull and yet which would accommodate my husband, three small daughters and myself.

The day of departure finally arrived. All was packed to the last teddy bear; good-byes said. It was a bright, clear morning with 14 inches of fresh snow laying in cushions on top of our trailer and car. We bundled our sleepy-eyed children into the back of the car, each clutching a bag of toys, and we were on our way to the sun drenched beaches of the South.

Within an hour a 60 mph headwind blew up which slowed us down but what did we care, we had all the time in the world. My husband was not yet used to hauling a trailer behind the car and a side gust of wind or a sharp turn of the steering wheel sent the trailer off into bucking and sideswaying motions which caused the steering to be almost uncontrollable. However, he worked out a method for pulling the trailer out of her independent little tangents.

We stocked up with groceries at Lethbridge, passed through the historical Fort McLeod and on to the U.S. Border at Coutts. The custom officials were friendly and courteous and there was no delay here. All the way to Great Falls there were roadside markers indicating historical sites such as the "Whoop Up Trail" and many others, these made fascinating reading.

On to Great Falls where we spent our first night over the border. There were many signs along the way urging one to quench one's thirst, some said "Welcome Canadians" others "Canadians Welcome" a subtle difference in attitude towards their northern neighbours? We had mapped out the shortest route to Tampa, Florida but as the trip progressed we were to change it completely. Already the first change was made outside Great Falls where we decided to visit Yellowstone Park on our way to Denver.

The road to Yellowstone was magnificent, winding its way through the beautiful Hidden Valley, the Lewis & Clark Nat. Forest and to Livingstone where we made inquiries about the Park. We learned that the road was only open as far as Mammoth Hot Springs. We drove on nevertheless and parked outside the fenced and padlocked camp grounds where no facilities could be reached but nature in her bounty had provided us with natural Hot Springs all around. After dinner we took a long walk visiting the Terraces of the Hot Springs, which had been formed over the centuries by mineral deposits from the Springs. The various levels of the Terraces when reached by wooden walks to protect the egg shell like top crust.

The next morning we found out that the roads would be open in a couple of days, so we set out to the Towerfalls hoping to sneak through a day earlier, but the road was bared here and beyond Cook. There was a Ranger-station nearby but no one in sight until we came upon an elderly man beside his trailer. He told us that he came from California and was caretaker at the cabins nearby. He proved to be a most delightful and informative person to talk to and fired our imagination with descriptions of places he had visited. He also told us that it was possible to get through to old Faithful Geyser if we didn't mind clearing a few fallen rocks from the road as we went along.

We returned to Mammoth and on the road to "Old Faithful" soon ran into a sign which read "road closed". What a disappointment; however, at this point there was a scenic loop drive to Terrace Springs. As we could not go on anyway we decided to follow the drive. We soon learned that it would have been wiser to leave the trailer behind when taking a narrow one way road for we became stuck on a very steep hill proceeded by a sharp angular turn, a deadly combination. Here we where between a creek and a deep ditch. We unhitched the 1,500 pounds and started turning the trailer by hand but he jackknifed and headed straight for the creek. Hastily we placed stones under the back wheels and as though from providence two men appeared on the scene. As we were blocking the way they had no alternative but to help and together we turned the outfit and were able to drive off the way we came, sincerely hoping not to run into any oncoming cars. We arrived at a small terrace overlooking the valley and the Hot Springs and decided to spend the night in this glorious spot. Later we went into town to get reliable road information from the Ranger Station. Ten Highway to "Old Faithful" was to be open the next day and also the Snakeriver Pass into Grand Teton.

This evening was spent alone amongst the smoking Springs. The children had a great time paddling in the warm water and I was able to rinse out some laundry.

My husband and I then plotted out our new route to Grand Teton National Park, Salt Lake City, Bryce - and Zion - and Grand Canyon Nat. Parks, Phoenix, Carlsbad Caverns and Fort Worth, where we would join the original route again. This would only add an extra 1,000 miles to our trip. No sooner was the barrier removed the following morning, on we were to the road to “Old Faithful”. There were some fair sized rocks along the road but we managed to slalom our way through them without mishap. Then, we soon spied our first Geyser but it was only a tiny sprout of a thing compared to following ones. The whole forest around us seemed to be on fire with smoke billowing in every direction. I couldn’t help wondering how a forest fire could be detected in all this smoke. Later, we came to whole groups of geysers, some bubbling, some smoking, some hissing loudly as the gases escaped. We passed by lovely “Beryl Springs”, a boiling caldron of magnificent turquoise blue water, the perfect lobster pot.

Finally, we arrived at the famous “Old Faithful Geyser”, which true to tradition did not keep us waiting too long before its grand performance. There were several other tourists here and our strange little outfit caused some comment. There was some skepticism about our chances of making it out of Yellowstone the south way on account of fresh snow. Undaunted, however, we pressed on. True enough there was a lot of snow but we got through with no trouble at all. From here on we were to be plagued by poor weather, heavy rain and cloudy grey skies.

When wiring the trailer for electricity my husband made several openings through the floor and the rain splashed back from the road with the result that our bedding and clothes were soaked through. The skies began to clear as we entered Grand Teton Park and we were able to see the beautiful snowcapped mountains and enjoy Springs’ early sunshine.

We passed the moose conservatory outside Jackson’s Hole and were able to make out three of the solemn creatures huddled together under a straw covered shelter. Jackson’s Hole is a pleasant little town, clean and friendly. Outside the town the road was under construction and the car took its worst beating so far. It was with tremendous relief that we came back onto the paved road. We camped for the night by the side of a river where several anglers were busy with their rods. After our meal, the children found a log and plank of wood and improvised themselves a teeter-totter. The next day was uneventful; just straight driving through heavy rain which almost obscured the countryside around us. We drove on until dark and pulled off the road at what, as far as we could make out, seemed to be a likely spot. What a surprise the next morning when we found ourselves on green velvet grass with the loveliest little wild brook running beside us and hills all around.

Next stop Salt Lake City passing the fishing resort of Bear Lake. After the Lake we climbed over our highest pass yet, a tremendously steep and continuous climb which we made in first gear almost the whole way. This was slow and very hard on the nerves. Once on top of the pass the view was magnificent. Then we came to Logan Valley and Spring at her very best. Emerald green grass, trees in full leaf or covered with blossoms, wild flowers, of every colour and daffodils. The craggy canyon walls towered above on either side of us. The walls gradually narrowed and we came to Logan and then on to Salt Lake City.

By now, we had nothing clean to change into and it was poor father’s lot to wash laundry until 2:00 a.m. We settled ourselves at a trailer court in the city. The next morning was Sunday and we went to hear the famous choir at the Tabernacle in a glass walled enclosure where children could hear and yet not be heard. The girls sat amazingly still during the entire recital and enjoyed the singing so much that to this day they still talk about it. Salt Lake City is beautiful and the gardens filled us with delight. I have rarely seen a more magnificent display of tulips as those in the Tabernacle gardens. We drove along the scenic loop and passed the famous Shriner Children’s Hospital, the Military Academy University, and came to the “This is the Place” monument marking the spot where the first pioneers caught sight of the valley after their long grueling trek from the East, through the Logan Valley. Surely, they must have reached the height of human endurance and only the strongest faith in Their Maker could have helped them surmount the difficulties and press on.

At noon, we left Salt Lake City and drove on towards Zion Park. Once again, the rain poured and clouds covered the hills all around us. It was late at night when we went down the steep road into Zion Canyon, a terrifying experience in the dark, when one had the feeling of plunging into nothingness around every bend in the road. What a sight met our eyes the next morning as the first light of the sun showed behind a red mountain peak and as the sun rose higher in the sky, the whole canyon was flooded in bright sunshine. We spent the greater part of the day exploring. The first trail led to a magnificent overlook of the canyon. On our way up the steep and narrow path we saw various kinds of cacti and shrubs both of which we had never seen before and Susan called out with great excitement that she had seen a “small crocodile” which proved to be a little grey lizard, sunning itself on a flat stone. The rocks were of varying shades of red and quite unlike our “Canadian Rockies” in this respect. After this we went back to the canyon narrows and noted lovely wild flowers growing right in the canyon walls, parts of the walls were weeping and small rivulets ran down the rocks. There was a patch of wild watercress in a small tributary of the river and we were greatly tempted to gather a bunch for supper but realized that if everyone did this sort of thing soon nothing would be left.

The next morning we set out for the Valley of Fire passing through lovely small canyons and neat villages and came to our first real desert country on the outskirts of Las Vegas where the tall Joshua Tree Cactus with its huge pronged arms arising from a thick stem appeared quite abruptly. Now it was really hot and we came to the bright red rocks of the Valley of Fire and noted many lizards of varying sizes darting in and out amongst the rocks. They were very shy and would not let us come close to them. From time to time as we went on there were small oasis with groups of trees and small holdings. We came to a Pueblo Village and museum; the village had been reconstructed on the original site. At this point the heat was tremendous and we stripped our clothing to the minimum and this was the way we were to remain until our return to Canada.

The road to Boulder Dam was gravel of the roughest variety and we managed to loose two hub caps from the trailer. We camped at Boulder Beach in a spot where white, pink and red blossoms covered the trailer windows, filling it with a sweet scent. We bathed in Lake Mead and found the water as warm as in our bathtub at home, pleasant but not in the least refreshing. In the evening, there was a movie show in the camp and we were able to see Sir Donald Campbell’s speed record experiences on Lake Mead and also a short movie about Lake Mohawk which we resolved to visit.

As we were so close to Las Vegas we could hardly leave it out of our route. What an extraordinary town, very much like a giant fair-ground with slot machines in every corner and serious-faced men playing them for hours on end until their elbows must surely have ached. Since my husband is in the hotel business he was particularly impressed by the fabulous motels and hotels along the main strip. How strange it seemed to see this advanced form of civilisation sitting in the middle of the bare arid desert country. We left Las Vegas for Hoover Dam which we found immensely impressive. In the afternoon we set out for Lake Mohawk. Here was peace again, the water was so clear and still with a few small ducks swimming along close to the shore. The ducks were not afraid of the children at all but swam away when either my husband and myself approached them. We hired a boat with a small outboard motor and took a 2 hour trip along the lake. There were small caves to explore much to the children’s delight and we met only 3 other boats during the entire trip. One had the impression of being completely alone with the calm beauty of the lake enclosed by canyon walls. That night we slept well in spite of the great heat and well refreshed set out for the Grand Canyon.

About 25 miles north of we had a flat on the trailer and were carrying no spare. We unhitched the trailer and drove to the next service station where we roused the attendant out of his siesta only to be told that he had a sore back and his doctor had forbidden him to do any heavy work. On to the next service station and the next for both had excuses for not working on our tire and in the end we had to go all the way to Kingsman where we got excellent and friendly service and no less than 11 patches on the tire. All this took an eternity especially as we were told that we would be lucky to find anything left on our trailer when we returned for there was much thievery in these parts. When we finally got back, however, sick with anxiety, we found that all was well and exactly as we had left it.

We hitched the trailer and set out across hot bare desert country towards the Grand Canyon. We caught our first glimpse of the canyon in a misty mauve evening light. What an awe-inspiring sight it was. The next day we visited the various outlooks of the canyon but were unable to take the trail down to the bottom with three small children. We found the canyon indescribably beautiful and a sight never to be forgotten. That evening we met a young English couple from Toronto and had a most pleasant evening exchanging tales over an open fire.

After luncheon we drove on through the little Colorado Canyon and the painted desert where we caught sight of our first Navajo Indians. They were a family group; the men wearing those strange tall black hats and the women in beautifully embroidered bright coloured dresses. They appeared to be a remarkably fine looking people.

We set up camp for the night 2 miles north of Flagstaff and went to sleep to the sound of busy woodpeckers. The next morning we continued through Flagstaff, passed a copper mine where there were huge piles of sand from the mining operations. After the desert came the Oak Creek Canyon with its green trees and red rocks, we passed large groups of school children out camping for the week-end. In time we arrived in Phoenix, a lovely city with blossoms everywhere but the heat was tremendous and we had not wished to spend more time than was strictly necessary in the city so we pressed on into the desert once again. That night we camped by a wayside highway under a sky filled with the brightest stars we had ever seen. There was a marker on this spot which told us that 2 men had been ambushed and killed here by Apaches while trying to persuade them to return some of the settlers horses. Later we passed Apache villages consisting of squalid huts but noted a few late model cars parked outside some of these shabby dwellings.

It was about 25 miles outside of Lordsburg that we had our first mechanical trouble of the trip and the car began making very sick noises. We limped into Lordsburg and tracked down a mechanic who knew about our particular make of car. We pitched camp at the back of the garage on the bare tarmac with a small patch of brown dried out grass and the sun beat down mercilessly on us. We tried to find a reasonably priced motel but this was impossible. It was Mother’s Day and also Susie and Linda’s birthday, so we celebrated with a real Mexican meal. We enjoyed the fried beans and enchiladas but were not too fond of the tortillas.

The parts for the car had to be brought in from Phoenix and it took three days before we were able to get on our way again. We were very tempted to sell the car. At about 6:30 in the evening we pulled out of Lordsburg the poorer for $101 and arrived late in Denning. We spent the night outside Las Cruces. There was another trailer in the campgrounds and we could hardly believe our eyes when the occupants came out of the car. They were a Mexican family and we counted 11 heads. Their trailer was not much larger than ours. On to El Paso early next morning, past some salt flats and enroute for Carlsbad Caverns. In order to get to the caverns it was necessary to pass through White City, a city built and owned by the man whose name it bears. We climbed up the hill to the entrance of the caverns. The tour through the caverns was fascinating but we wished that we had not been shepherded through quite so hastily. Amongst the fantastic and weird formations one got the impression of being in another world. As it was not possible to camp at the caverns we found a lovely site in Black River Village in the grounds of what once must have been a very grand estate but which had now fallen into neglect.

The next morning we passed through Pecos and Austin. Here we found ourselves in a forest of oil wells, with pumps drawing their rich harvest of oil as far as the eye could see. We also noted several large pink snakes lying dead on the road, many sheep and few cattle. The price of beef seemed very high for a cattle rearing country but we were told that this was because of the necessity for importing feed in Texas on account of drought. The wayside parks were the loveliest we were to see during our entire trip and we ate our meals amongst the flowers, birds and trees and pretty little peacock blue and green lizards which refused to be photographed. That same evening we stopped in a park off the road and down a steep hill. We made an open fire and barbecued some excellent highly spiced sausage and my husband went to get water at a nearby well. We never did get that water for there was a swamp all around the well and the cattle were giving him such ugly looks that he felt in no mood for dallying in this spot.

As we approached Houston the grass became greener and we noticed a large increase in the Black population. The living conditions of these peoples shocked us greatly. I have seen none worse. From Houston we took a fine big modern speedway to Galveston and at last there was the sea! The amazing part was, however, that it was spiked with oil towers.

How pleasant it was that night to go to sleep with the sound of the surf in our ears but we found the air clammy and moist and we were to find the same condition along the whole length of the Gulf of Mexico. The children had their first ocean dip in their birthday suits for the beach was deserted. We crossed the bay on the Ferry that night with the car and trailer which puzzled the children for they could not understand why we did not sink on the “water road”.

We travelled through Port Arthur and Orange and crossed over into Louisiana. Here we saw our first “Spanish Moss”, the strange greyish vegetation that festoons the trees hereabouts. The bayous along the way were wild and lovely and made one long to get a boat and explore further into these tropical waterways. We camped at the Longfellow-Evangeline State Park and were serenaded by frogs all evening. Their voices ranged from high pitched squeaks to the deep throated basso profundo of the old bull frog.

The next day we set out for New Orleans by way of the Pontreachian Causeway, the longest bridge in the world. We set up camp at the Fontainbleau State Park and dressed ourselves up for a trip into the city. We were determined to taste the famous Creole Cookery and found an excellent restaurant full of the atmosphere we had come to expect in this glamorous city. There were red checked table clothes and even a group of bearded and sandalled artists seated near us. The meal was a poem starting with a Potage Gumbo, Shrimp Creole Jambalaya, Scallops, Salad, French Bread, Wines and Hot Pecan Pudding with Brandy Sauce. Our hostess and cook was a most delightful person. She put herself out to make this meal a superb and memorable one.

Late at night we arrived outside Fort Picken State Park only to find the gates locked. We tried to turn the trailer and got stuck in soft sand by the side of the road and after much effort managed to right things again. We camped outside the gates that night and it was rather eerie to be on such a narrow strip of ground with the sea on either side of us. The next day we went on to Panama City and St. Andrews State Park, a magnificent secluded spot where the children were able to bathe safely in a clear lagoon. We stayed here 2 days and rested up a little, meeting very friendly campers. There was only one snap in that we were practically eaten alive by mosquitoes. Our next stop was at the lovely Manatee Springs State Park where the Springs are crystal clear and blue in colour. We visited the Giant Fish Bowl on our way to Hillboro State Park.

We then decided to go to the mysterious Everglades, passing by Sarasota, the famous Ringling Circus’s winter headquarters and Port Charlotte. Finally we arrived at the Collier-Seminole Park but found the mosquito situation unbearable here in spite of constant spraying by the wardens. My poor husband was bitten to distraction when he went to get drinking water and we were in no small haste to leave. In the evening we walked along a lovely silver beach, watched the sun go down and collected shells. Early next morning we went deeper into the Everglades, calling at an Indian Village and bought some raffia purses for the children made by the Seminoles and decorated with attractive somewhat primitive designs. We also took an airplane ride through the swamps and were most excited by the sensation of skimming over the shallow water and sometimes on bare grassland. We saw some beautiful wild orchids and birds, in particular. the snowy white egret that stands in almost lifeless stillness.

Leaving the Seminole State Park we took a long drive as far as Key West the furthermost tip of the United States. This quaint little naval town is approached by a series of bridges linking the many small islands which form a curved chain linked by the clear blue-green water of the Gulf of Mexico on one side and the Caribbean on the other. We left the trailer at Rose Harbour and on our return spent a delightful evening with the landlord of this small fishing community talking about his favourite subjects, boats and fishing.
Now we were to cross the Tamiami Trail and were plagued with heavy rain so that when we reached Miami we were hardly able to see it at all. Progress was slow and it seemed a very long way to the Jonathan Dickinson State Park where we were to make our home during the next few weeks. We found a spot hidden away in the pines and soon had four regular guests for meals; 2 squirrels, a flame red bird and a bright blue one. In the end they became so tame that they would accept crumbs from our hands. There was a perfect little beach within half an hour’s drive of the Park and spent the greater part of our days here. From our base we made several trips into Palm Beach and explored our more immediate vicinity. We found such complete peace and contentment in this spot that we long to return, preferably before the hard Canadian Winter once more takes the land into its icy grasp.

Most reluctantly, because we could not afford to stay any longer, we left in late May and began the long trek back to Toronto. It took us only 3 days to return through Georgia, the Carolinas and the magnificent “Blue Mountains” of Kentucky, through Michigan and back over the border. We had nothing to declare here except a host of duty free glorious memories.

Next time we have decided to buy a boat and sail down the Intercoastal waterways to Florida and then over to the Bahamas. With such a wonderful dream the time passes quickly and agreeably and in about two months we should be underway once again.

(Since this time, we have traveled in a 40 foot trailer from Florida to Nevada in 1960; from 1978 to 1982 we sailed four years in the South Pacific with our 52 foot schooner “Big Bear” (sitting on a reef now, no insurance!!), in 1989 we had a 27 foot Airstream and did the Baja to Cabo San Lucas for four months. Last year, we pulled an 18.6 Nash fifth wheel all the way to Florida and back, sort of retracing our steps from 40 years ago - What A Difference!! Now we have a 19.6 Okanagan fifth wheel and will head south to Mexico with it this winter. Fraserway RV has done a great job for us on those last two fifth wheels.

John said about the airplane ride: John thinks it is supposed to be: Airboat ride?