Road Trips:

There are many memories of my father at the wheel of our car as we head out for an afternoon ride or a longer road trip. Once early on, it was just to see the odometer on the old Pontiac turn to 100,000 miles. On longer trips, my brother and I would be in the back seat and if there was too much enthusiasm there was always the long arm of the law that could reach back and deliver unprejudiced discipline. I think I was usually the one who insisted on knowing "if we are half way there yet?" On one such occasion, a trip to Berkeley to visit my grandmother, my father responded by pointing to a little white cloud above the western horizon. "See that little cloud? It is right above Grandma's house. Just keep your eye on it!" There was a long trip to Vancouver to a meeting my father was attending. We stopped each night at a motel - it had to have a swimming pool so my brother and I could play "marco polo".
My father loved to explore back roads, with map in hand, and look for points of historical interest. He had so much information in his head and you just sat back and learned about California history - the origin of the term "carneros region", or the old route of Highway 40 from the Bay Area through Jamison Canyon, or the fact that Pope Valley was once planted in pistachio orchards... Once he began flying small planes, he would be able to tell you about the entire region he flew over, and liked to make quick stops at historically important places. Later when his health began to be an issue, he stopped flying and there were fewer road trips and I think he missed exploring a lot. When we started to go to the Grove together, I would drive and ask him which way he wanted to go. He would get out the map and direct me - we took many different routes and I saw a lot of California I had never seen before - and of course heard a lot of its history. We would drive though the beautiful Pope Valley and then up over the pass and down to St. Helena, a breath-taking view; or we would make a special stop at the Buena Vista winery - California's first commercial winery; and of course he knew all the "watering holes" between Davis and the Grove.
One afternoon more recently, after visiting the doctor in Sacramento, I suggested that we drive down the river road toward the delta. He got out the map and off we went, through Courtland and south through the ag lands and then along the levees and finally across the water on a ferry, emerging east of Fairfield. Of course, it was just the kind of thing he loved to do. I often think of how happy he was that day!