Sunday, September 03, 2006

A small detour.

My dad was born in 1902 and two days after his 46th birthday my mom presented him with me. My dad had no formal education and could neither read nor write but he was very good with numbers.

On all our trips my mom was the navigator and this trip had a little funny twist to it.We never stayed in motels and always just pulled off the road and slept. A very common practice in those days. One night as we were heading west on route66 ( yes the mother road ), my mom dozed off and my dad kept driving. He liked to drive most of the night as there was less traffic. He could read the numbers on the highway signs but not the towns.

Sometime after mom had fallen asleep, dad came into a town and had to take a detour. He drove thru the detour and finally found a "rt.66" sign and drove until just before daylight before pulling off the road and getting a nap.

My mom wakes up with the sun shining in the windshield. Not a good sign when you are heading west. My dad had gotten back on what he thought was rt.66 west and headed back the same way. He had driven over 100 miles in the wrong direction. Towns were few and far between and most just looked alike in the middle of the night.