I’m on the road today, driving the length of California on another silly excursion that involves two different sets of family members. I drove down I-5 and am returning on US-101. If you see me, wave.
It’s really a classic California cultural experience, driving I-5. Heading north from Los Angeles, once you leave the suburban valley, you wind up alongside the California acqueduct into a mountainous area where the stars gleam bright at night. Coming down, along the “Grapevine”–so named because it twists and turns like a grapevine–you hit the flat San Joaquin Valley, the breadbasket of the United States.
The Grapevine has been there forever, it’s the main pass to southern California, and very steep. Cars are probably overheating on that stretch of the road today. My grandfather’s car broke down at the base of the Grapevine in 1941 and the family camped for three days waiting for repair parts. My dad used to augment that story with, “we were practically Okies.”
I’ve had many memorable trips down the center of the state through Interstate 5–which in the early years was one long desolate four-lane road that zoomed through farmland, past cows and skirted the acqueduct nearly to Sacramento. I first drove it 39 years ago with my father giving directions: “Don’t fall asleep.”
In those early years rest stops hadn’t been built yet and towns were few, if any, on the actual road. One friend told of a drive with her husband and children during this time when bathroom were hard to come by. The miles clicked by and nothing appeared even on the horizon. She finally instructed her husband to just pull over.
As he stopped the car, she rummaged over the back seat and found a MacDonald’s bag. She tossed out the left over fries, hamburger wrappers and everything else before exiting the car with the bag in hand. Leaving one of the doors open as a sort of shield, she squatted down next to the pavement and put the bag OVER HER HEAD.
“What are you doing?” her husband asked.
“I don’t want anyone to recognize me!”
I laugh every time I drive that stretch of the road.
We know the rest areas between San Francisco and Los Angeles like the back of our hands. On a good day it’s a four hour stretch from where 880 bends in from San Francisco, and Santa Monica where family members live. On a bad day–like Thanksgiving Eve-the same drive has taken us eight hours of bumper-to-bumper madness.
Returning north late one Saturday after Thanksgiving, we left the last spot to turn off and headed into the black night, a long line of red lights ahead of us. Ten minutes up the road we came to a halt and sat. For an hour. Fortunately, we were listening to George MacDonald‘s classic The Phoenix and the Carpet, on tape and it kept us entertained. When we finally reached the problem, we saw beautiful horses running beside the freeway; their 12-horse trailer on its side.
That was a bad night. The delay, however, worked out fine for us–the book on tape concluded when we pulled into our garage at home.
You’re never quite sure what to expect. My sister-in-law roared up the road one Christmas Eve, making it in less that five hours from Los Angeles. She talked about the wild excitement of going 90 mph and being passed by a CHP car. Everyone wanted to get home that night and tickets were not being written!
But it also can be dangerous. The Tule fog often settles without warning and visibility goes to zero, way too fast. We know to check the road conditions before we
start south at night. Or rather, we seldom drive I-5 at night in the late fall and early winter. Too many people have died on I-5 and CA 99, because of the fog.
It’s curious to drive the road even in the daytime during the winter. Coming down the Grapevine, you can see the fog layer sitting on the road and we always grow very quiet until we’re through.
The best way to travel I-5 is with chatty friends–Lucia and I began a conversation as we drove out of my brother’s driveway in Santa Monica and didn’t stop talking until nine hours later when we arrived at her house north of Ukiah. Who knows where the time went–two Sicilians telling tales with the miles speeding by? We almost forgot we had children in the back!
It’s worth one trip, driving the length of I-5. Stop for breakfast at Harris Ranch, or lunch at In-N-Out burger. Watch for the stars at night–or the fog in the winter. Puzzle over Crow’s Landing–what is it? And in the spring, savor the blooming almond trees.
And if you see anyone squatting along the side of the road with a bag over her head, well, it won’t be me but let’s ignore her anyway.
Thoughts? Reactions? Lurker?