Garden of the Gods

This afternoon, after making our way to Colorado Springs and collecting Madeline at the airport, we settled into the Antler Hilton. A long nap later, we saddled up the woody and made our way over to The Garden of the Gods, an outdoor park with fabulous red rock formations. We arrived as the sun was setting, and with the late sun on the red rock, the surrounding mountains, and greenery, it was just a beautiful place to end the day.

Of course, our day didn't quite end there. We toured Old Colorado City, and had a bite to eat at a Greek restaurant in this scenic village on the outskirts of Colorado Springs. We returned to the Antler Hilton, and after bundling up the woody for the night, we celebrated Colorado by breaking into the homemade cookies sent by my sister Maria. Now that was a beautiful way to end the day!

We're Not In Kansas Anymore

We crossed into a new time zone for the second time on this journey from Massachusetts to Colorado, and I now write from the Antler Hilton in downtown Colorado Springs. We motored some 250 miles today, without issue. The approach to Colorado Springs on I-24 was a little fast, but at the end of the road we found Madeline, who had flown in from Boston, via Atlanta, to take over as my co-pilot for the final leg of my journey.

It has been nice traveling with the other cars with the Model A Times Tour Group, and hearing how people got into the Model A hobby. A few of the cars from California have been 'souped' up a bit, and they can really motor along. It is a great comfort to know that there are other cars out there - just in case. We passed 3,000 miles on this trip today, and for the most part, these have been easy miles.

Tomorrow we begin the final stretch across Colorado, which will take us into Utah, Nevada, and finally, into California. The stretch tomorrow will take us up Route 50, the Lincoln Highway, which runs from Baltimore, Maryland, to Sacramento, California. We drove on Route 50 in West Virgina, and we have picked it up again in Oklahoma. Route 50 runs across Colorado, and our section tomorrow will take us from Canon City to Grand Junction - up and over the Rockies.

Oklahoma is Okay

This morning we left Clinton and headed to the Oklahoma farm of Elda and Henry Martens, where they had a collection of historic buildings, farm and racing vehicles, and a beautiful quilt shop. We travelled the 75 miles to the Fairview farm in a caravan and without issue. We were greeted by Elda and Henry, their extended family, and a host of friends and neighbors. The Mardens had an original White flatbed truck, a 1930 bulldozer, and several steam-powered combines. In addition to the vehicles, there was a one-room schoolhouse building filled with gorgeous quilts - the handiwork of Elda. The Mardens served up a fantastic repast of home cooked fritters and other delights, and gave our group a real taste of Oklahoman hospitality.

After our visit there, Lisa and I traveled another 250 miles with another vehicle. The roads were good, and while we were passed a number of times by trailers lugging huge combines and traveling faster than our 50 miles per hour, we made good time. Gas stations are apparently pretty far apart in Oklahoma, and when we found an open station, we took on 9.4 gallons - to fill our 10 gallon tank. Along with visiting an antique shop, we spent the day enjoying the beauty of Oklahoma's cattle farms, wheat fields, and corn fields. In late afternoon, we crossed into Liberal, Kansas, and before long, we were settled into our hotel at Garden City. We had a tour meeting at our hotel, and after socializing a bit, we had dinner at the Texas Roadhouse, a steak place next to the hotel, with Diana Hudson, Ron Ludford, and John LaVoy, the leaders of our tour group.

The Future Miss Oklahoma

If you are ever traveling to Clinton, Oklahoma, I can recommend the Hampton Inn there. Our hotel is great; the rooms and common areas are neat, new, and spacious, and the staff is helpful and friendly. Plus, the hotel is conveniently located near a Braum's Ice Cream shop and The Route 66 Museum. We toured the museum. which offered a cornucopia of automobilia, from gasoline pumps to a full-sized roadside diner. The displays showed the history of Route 66, from the early days of its construction to the resurgence of the route during the summer of love.

We were greeted at the museum by two Miss America hopefuls - the reigning Miss Route 66 and Miss Route 66 Outstanding Teen, complete with sashes and tiaras. We wished them good luck, and they wished us good travels and good maps.

Road Repair

The way out of Addison and the Greater Dallas area was a little confusing, but with my new navigator on board, and with the help of my old friend Garmin, we were soon on our way out of The Lone Star State. Not soon enough, though, as my trusty Motometer was telling me that something was not quite right under the hood. The Model A has an optional hood ornament that takes the place of a standard radiator cover; this is the Motometer, a roundish ornament that is fitted with a thermometer that indicates the engine temperature. Over the first two thousand miles of this trip, I have learned just how the thermometer in my Motometer reacts to changes in speed and temperature, and today, as we were keeping our speed in the 40s, it seemed to me we ere running a bit hot. The water level looked okay, and a look under the hood showed the fan belt shredded and looped around the pulley shafts - but certainly not powering the fan, water pump, or alternator. Generally the rule on trips like this is that the one part you don't have is the one you need, however, the rule didn't apply here and we were soon on our way - with the Motometer back to its usual level.

Texas highway gave way to The Sooner State, where the roads were straight and easily travelled. We saw miles of wheat fields and cattle ranches in the Oklahoma countryside, and it was good to be back on the road again. At the end of the days travels, we found ourselves on historic Route 66.

Car Games II

We said our goodbyes in Texas last night and this morning, and as we were about to pull out, Diana Hudson, our tour leader for the trip west, swung by in her topless Model A roadster to give me the good news that I had won the bean-bag toss in the car game competition. Diana had collected the trophy for me, and I added it to our stash of goodies from the meet. There is a time-honored tradition in the Model A world that those who win trophies at meets - or those whose cars appear in the newspaper or on television - are fined. I suspect that this will be the case here, although I will likely appeal any such fine as I was the only Minuteman Club member participating in the competition. Perhaps I can apply the amount of any fine to my gasoline expenses for travel to the meet ...

The Minuteman Brain Trust

I've had lots of help getting my 1930 Station Wagon ready for this extended road trip, and a number of my technical advisers are here with me in Dallas. This group includes Dick Stitt, who along with Dick O'Brien and Steve Goldberg, took me out to Ware, Massachusetts, when I picked up the car. Along the way, these individuals, along with Wayne Champagne, Jack Stokinger, Bruce Marshall (all pictured here), Harold Legge, Gene Tallone, Doug Linden, Clyde Kelton, and a host of others have provided technical and moral support, along with parts, tools, and enthusiasm. Our uneventful journey here was certainly the result of a combined effort on the part of many.

Today is a day of seminars at the meet, and tonight is the capstone event, the awards banquet where prizes for the highest scoring vehicles are given out - and where the significant raffle items are drawn and awarded. There are several rebuilt engines that will be going to some lucky participants, and a number of other prizes ranging from spark plugs to beautiful quilts.

The day is also one for 'car games' in which the vehicles and drivers are put through a series of games in a competitive format. These games include driving along a balance beam (without failing off), installing spark plugs in the engine head while blindfolded and wearing work gloves, and inflating a balloon with the car's exhaust - and event that we took over as the leader when we competed earlier - in part to the low idle and perfect timing set by Jack and Wayne before we left home.

Tonight we meet with the California group to plan our journey west. Tomorrow we are once again on the road, and I am excited.

Grand Tour

The trip to Dallas, Texas, was spurred on by the meeting here of the two national Model A clubs, MARC and MAFCA. There are a number of events that go on at these national meets, including tours, car games, car judging, seminars (on everything from license plates to restoring rear-ends), dinners, raffles, and, of course, swap meets. One of the signature events is the Grand Tour, which at this meet, was out to the Texas Motor Speedway, some 50 miles from out host hotel. I drove out with Bruce Marshall riding shotgun, and with Lisa and Jack Stokinger riding in the back seats and providing the color commentary on the Texas scenery. The trip out to the Speedway involved a number of interchanges and access roads, and along the way we saw our first Texas Longhorn cattle - and a number of other noteworthy sights. Somewhere along the way out, Bruce even asked about the Hotspur moniker of this blog.

Once at the Speedway, we queued up for our shot at breaking the land speed record, but, alas, with a full cargo load and our skinny tires and heavy wooden body, we kept off the banked curves for the most part. We made it up in the flats, though, and had a good three laps around this racetrack while dozens of spectators looked on. After the applause had died down, we furthered our racetrack experience with a lunch of corndogs and Doctor Pepper!

The trip back to the hotel was uneventful, and we all praised Garmin for seeing us back safely. The Texas sun and a poolside nap awaited us upon our return, and after a great Mexican dinner, we are settling in for the evening.

Life on the Road

Packing for a four-week journey across the continent in a seventy-eight year old car is pretty easy; you bring all the spare parts you think you could possibly need, and then you throw is a few clothes and personal effects. I did a little 'hotel room laundry' today - and then turned my wooden station wagon into a mobile clothes line.

Tuesday was a quiet day in Addison for Dennis and I, although I arose early so as to avoid the heat while I put the car on jack stands and gave her a good going-over. The rattles of 2207 miles didn't seem to have much effect on the woody, and after a tightening of the fan belt, the adjustment of the speedometer cable to the overdrive, and an oil change, I was ready for the day. Dennis and I headed over to the Corner Bakery, our breakfast spot, and spent the rest of the day poking around the swap meet and looking at the hundreds of Model As here.

There are certain turn in a trip like this, and on this day, the 30th anniversary of their wedding, Carol Moran again joined Dennis, this time in Addison, Texas. Dennis has been a good companion and navigator, and I will miss his good company and silly jokes. Watch out, Dennis, for those kamikaze birds as you head on to Houston. Lisa arrives shortly, and we are four days from the start of the trip west.

A Grand Welcome to Texas

Monday was the first day in eight that we spent the entire day in the same state, although from what I've heard, you can drive all day across Texas and still not reach the other side. It was good to be in one place, and I look forward to spending a few more days here.

We are here attending the Model A Ford Club of America (MAFCA) and Model A Restorers Club (MARC) National Meet, a bi-annual event that brings some 1500 Model A enthusiasts together for tire kicking and socializing. There are some 500 Model As here, in all shapes and sizes, from 48 states and Canada. There are even 12 attendees from Norway, although I do not believe that they came by Model A. In the elevator of the Intercontinental Hotel where the meet is headquartered, we met a gentleman who drove some 2600 miles from Oregon, which seems to knock us out of the longest-drive competition; we logged a measly 2207 miles!

It has been warm, but not oppressive here, although you did not want to be picking up any iron parts at the swap meet after they had been sitting in the sun for a while. The evening was lovely, and the Dallas Model A Club, which is hosting the event, threw a great welcome party in a park near the hotel. The barbecue dinner was complimented by a live band and then a showing of The Great Race on an huge inflatable movie screen. It was a great evening.

Dallas, at Last

After twelve states and 2,207 miles, Dennis and I pulled into the parking lot of the Intercontinental Hotel in Addison, Texas. The trip in from Hope was uneventful but for the final approach to the greater Dallas area, which is a series of turnpikes and interchanges better suited for 'moderns' than the Model A. The approach left us a bit harried, but relieved and happy to reach our destination safe and sound.

We enjoyed Arkansas, and after starting into Texas on the Interstate, we opted for the lesser-travelled roads. The interstate speed limit was 75, and while the limits were the same on the secondary roads, we saw few other vehicles, and the going was good. We travelled on some of the Texas red clay backroads that Michelle Shocked sings about, and the wagon continued to putter right along.

Just after checking into the hotel, we met up with Wayne and Sue Champagne, and as we celebrated our journey in the hotel lobby, we were joined by a host of other Minutemen who had arrived by means of more modern transportation. After registering for the meet and settling in to our room, we joined Bruce and Cookie, Jack and Jo, Wayne and Sue, and Dick and Mazie for a southern barbecue dinner, with all the fixin's, which we followed with a bowl of home-made vanilla ice cream!

Highway 61 Visited

Dennis and I got a jump on the day and had a travelling breakfast on Highway 61 in Mississippi. The road was clear and straight, and we made good time heading down the Mississippi River Delta. We motored about thirty miles before heading west and crossing into Arkansas, our third state before lunch. We cruised westward through the Bauxite State, and didn't see a stop sign or traffic light for almost two hours. We made good time passing through cotton, corn, and tobacco fields, and past family farms with cattle and horses. It must be the foaling season, as we have seen dozens of calves and ponies huddling around their mothers.

The weather gods have been smiling on us, and the Woody has continued to run smoothly and without issue. At the end of today, as she brought us to Hope Arkansas, the birthplace of President Clinton, our trusty Garmin was showing 1974.67 miles since Boston. The car has been running cool, and strong, and she continues to draw interest wherever we are. At the diner where Dennis and I had the Tobacco Catfish Special, we were told that a couple Model As from Pennsylvania passed through a couple days ago. We are in good spirits and looking forward to seeing our friends in Texas.

Tomorrow, Addison, Texas, and the MAFCA/MARC National Meet awaits.

The King Has Left The Building

Day six began with a home-cooked breakfast at the Moran home in Spring Hill, and a left turn instead of a right put us on a ribbon-candy road towards Memphis. The road, Tennessee Route 100 made a bee-line for Memphis, and with few lights and fewer trucks, we fairly flew towards Memphis. At lunchtime, we were 60 miles out and sure of an early arrival. Further, we successfully negotiated our was around the city so as to avoid most of the city traffic.

An early evening trip to Graceland put us at the gates as they were closing, and we joined a number of other fans waiting for the King to emerge. After our pilgrimage, the Woody brought us to Memphis Belle, a nearby restaurant where we enjoyed ribs, salad, and some southern hospitality.

A surprise-package from home was waiting for us at the hotel when we arrived; this was a box of double-chocolate chip cookies, and licorice, from Madeline, Lisa and Jonathan. Mmmmmm!

Run for the Roses

We began Thursday with a trip down The Bluegrass Trail, a scenic driving tour around the outskirts of Lexington. We saw dozens of horse farms, each one a work of art, with verdant fields and beautiful stables. The horses out here live well.

The trip south through Kentucky was a joy, and with the car running well and the traffic light, we made good time and enjoyed a countryside littered with newly-baled hay. We passed cattle farms, cornfields, and and wheat fields as we wound out way south with the hope for enough time for a visit to downtown Nashville and the Country Music Hall of Fame. Nashville traffic interceded, however, and as we passed through Nashville north to south, I considered the traffic exactly what people go on vacation to escape.

And while the Woody huffed and puffed in the stop-and-go Nashville traffic, it was only I who was overheating. Our trusty wagon, after five days, is running well and without issue. Our traffic woes and late arrival were quickly erased by a dip in the pool and the warm company of Frank and Germaine Moran. We enjoyed a great meal and a restful night after getting to know some of the neighbors while the Model A chauffeured and honked its way around Spring Hill.

Down the River

We started the day with a quick photo shot on the banks of the Mighty Ohio River, which makes the border between West Virginia and Ohio. It was good to be enjoying West Virginia from this side of the river. We ran down Ohio's Route 7, a Scenic By-Way, as these roads are often called, until we hit Ashland, Kentucky, in the tri-state region.

An experiment with I-68 didn't work out as we had hoped as we immediately hit a road-repair project which reduced the two-lane road to one lane. On top of that, it seemed that the freight needs of all of western Kentucky were being brought in immediately behind us, and with white knuckles and a couple dozen prayers, we were on to the lesser traveled path, that being Kentucky 60, the 'old' main road, on which we traversed I-68 a dozen times or so on our approach to Lexington.

We must have missed a turn or something as we closed in on Lexington, and the unplanned detour took us down some 18 miles of spectacular, if remote, roads. We drove under a canopy of trees on this one lane road, hoping that there would be no one heading towards us, along the banks of the Kentucky River. We weren't exactly sure where we were going to come out, but we made it out and onto some more modern and improved roads, and we were glad, finally, to get off the road for the evening.

We've now logged in 1,136 miles on the old station wagon on this journey, and these have been good miles, and without issue. I 'found' a tire retailer next to the Comfort Inn where we are staying tonight, and after a little discussion, I arranged to have my oil changed and tire pressure checked.

Tomorrow, after a tour of scenic Lexington, we will follow the green dots on our trusty Rand-McNally for the trip to Nashville, Tennessee, and a home-cooked meal with Dennis's mom and dad.

Almost Heaven

Day three of our journey saw us off early from Emmitsburg, Maryland, and onto Route 77 through the Catoctin Mountain Park. Mountain is the operative word here, and the remainder of the day we spent climbing up and braking down Mountains through western Maryland and across West Virginia. One 16-mile section of Route 50 was solely a series of tight ess-curves with ab 8 and 9 percent grade, up and down. I thought the roads spectacular, if challenging, until I discovered the hulk of an 18-wheeler headed down right behind me.

We travelled on two historic roadways today. The first, Route 40 a/k/a The National Road, was established by Thomas Jefferson as the first roadway west. Route 40 went from Washington to St. Louis, Missouri, the gateway to the west in Jeffersonian days. Parts of the roadway have been incorporated into Interstate 68, but Route 40 is marked there, too. The original Route 40 exists in sections, and we travelled on some of these roads today.

Route 50 is known as The Lincoln Highway, and it was a coast to coast road created with public and private funds in the early days of the automobile - in part, to facilitate travel by automobile and promote the automobile industry. Out west, Route 50 follows the old Pony Express route from Grand Junction, Colorado, to Sacramento, California. Route 50 starts in Baltimore, and heads west through Maryland and through central West Virginia before continuing west through Ohio.

We motored some 300 miles today, with much of it winding or climbing. We lunched at a diner on Old Route 50 near Clarksburg, West Virginia. I had the house Cheeseburger Special, with chips, for $2.50, and Dennis had the meatloaf special. Our arrival drew some interest from the regulars, who came right out to inspect our car and find out where we were going. Today, a simple route plan kept us on course, and off the road in the late afternoon. Tomorrow, we head for Lexington, Kentucky.

Music for the Road

Our first destination today was Nazareth, Pennsylvania, where in 1836, C.F. Martin moved the luthier shop he started in New York City in 1833. Martin Guitar is still owned and operated by the Martin family, and they employ some 600 people in crafting guitars and other musical instruments. Dennis and I toured the factory, and I enjoyed the play-while-you-wait area. We left empty handed, but for a souvenir from the tour and a few Martin brochures.

The road from Nazareth took us to Bethlehem, and then through Allentown. These weren't the towns we came to see, but it was interesting to see the effects of the convergence of river and man and trains and steel.

The road south yielded endless vistas of spectacular farmland and the fragrant aroma of newly-minted cow manure. The large farms of Bucks County gave way to the hand-sewn fields of the Amish in Lancaster County, where families worked the fields together, young and old. We passed a horse-drawn buggy that was turning left, and the children in the back gave us a thumbs-up and a smile. We passed through Bird-In-Hand, and through Lancaster, before avoiding York and the endless stream of stoplights and intersections that make Model A drivers curse.

We passed through Gettysburg and enjoyed the views from Highway 15 with a goal of being off the road and safely tucked into The Sleep Inn in Emmitsburg, Maryland, by nightfall. We accomplishd our goal, including dinner at The Ott House, where the motto is, "What happens in Emmitsburg, stays in Emmitsburg."

Massachusetts, Connecticut, New York, and Pennsylvania

The trip west commenced with a late-morning departure from Needham and Framingham, both, and a trip through Worcester County, Massachusetts, where Dennis and I had a quick on-the-road visit from our friend Paul - who happened see us driving in Sturbridge, Massachusetts. The road west took us into the the Yankee villages of Northwest Connecticut, and as the miles passed by, the foothills of the Berkshires gave way to a seemingly-endless stream of 30 percent grades through New York's Dutchess County.

The lesser-traveled road often offers spectacular scenery and terrain, and the course this day offered up the mighty Connecticut and Hudson Rivers, which we crossed on small bridges n our smallish automobile. The day, however, was less about sightseeing and more about getting along, as we left late and arrived even later, finishing up the day's work with the last 50 miles coming in well after dark. If John Soule had made this journey as I have, he might actually have said, "Go West, young man, go West ... but don't be driving down from the mountains into the setting sun at the end of a long day."

Still, there were plenty of smiles along the way, and queries at almost every stop about where we were going, and from whence we had come. The road was good to us, as were the weather gods, and we ended the day safe, sound, and tired, in Matamoras, Pennsylvania.

From Sea to Shining Sea

Early Saturday morning I headed down Route 9 to Boston and the Atlantic Ocean at Carson Beach and Castle Island. Princess Sophie led the way with head out the window and ears flapping in the early morning air. She led the way into the ocean, too, as I waded in behind her to fill a bottle that I will, hopefully, marry with that from the Pacific a month and a continent away.

Just a few short years ago a trip into Boston would have been a BIG deal to me. And now, even as I am still a bit surprised each time the Model A roars to life, it was a simple add-on to a full weekend. It was one of the last steps before take off, though, and the bottle of water is labeled and safely stowed in the back of the wagon.

Song of the Open Road

Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose.

Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune,
Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing,
Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms,
Strong and content I travel the open road.

(with thanks to Walt Whitman, and to Ken Burns, too.)