The day before I leave on my latest cross-country trip, and I’m thinking back to my first one. Well, it may not actually be my first one. Somehow, I was gotten from Virginia, where I was born, to Alaska, where my brother was born. I know we didn’t fly. I seem to have some recollection of my mother saying we went there on a troop ship at least part of the way. (Although I’m sure we didn’t go through the Panama Canal.) Sounds about right as my parents were never ones to pass up an interesting mode of travel. And being from New England, “interesting” to them had a lot to do with being cheap.

So when my father was re-stationed from Alaska (where I think he was involved in some surveillance of the Russians) to West Point (where he was to be a Mathematics professor), my parents’ first thought was, “Road Trip!” Didn’t matter that there wasn’t actually a full complement of paved roads between Alaska and New York at that time (at least not on the northern route they wanted to take). In fact, friends waiting for them in New York had a serious betting pool going that they couldn’t drive the whole distance. I think the way the odds stacked up, my parents’ were the only ones betting that they could.

The route started on the Alaska or Alcan Highway that was apparently not much more than a dirt or gravel road, with few if any amenities. Apparently, even today, it’s challenging (see this article.) Back then it must have been like trying to ride the rail lines when crews were still racing from each end of the country on their way to Utah with the Golden Spike.

“How did you do it with one kid barely out of diapers, a baby, a dog and cloth diapers?” I asked my mother.

“Oh, I must have had a diaper pail or something. And we had food packed,” she replied, as if she had all the amenities. “It was the trip of a lifetime!”

Whew! I didn’t even want to explore the logistics of that. Then she added, “I’ve got some pictures we took on the trip. I think I have a picture of you on the potty chair. You could post it on the blog.”

No thanks, Mom. I think that picture will NOT be uploaded.

The stories about that trip are part of family legend, such as when I tried to talk to a wild bear that I thought might be Yogi at Yellowstone Park. And when the pop-up broke open on the road, my favorite pajamas with feet blew out, and I was inconsolable until my father told me a little bear was probably wearing them now. (It think you are getting the idea that bears were a constant theme in my early childhood.)

So cheap car or not, you’ll be hearing no complaining from me. I just hope we can do this with the spirit of adventure my parents did.

PS-- My parents won that bet about making it all the way to New York. I hope the loot covered the cost of the trip. (Which was probably about $75.)