The Mother Road: In 1962, Dale Peterson's Father Took A Road Trip From West To East On Rt. 66 With Two Friends; He Kept A Detailed Log, And It's Fascinating, Funny, and Reassuring
Maybe The Opposite Of Kerouac's "On The Road?"
“In John Steinbeck's novel The Grapes of Wrath (1939), the highway symbolizes escape, loss, and the hope of a new beginning; Steinbeck dubbed it the Mother Road.”
Wikipedia, U.S. Route 66
First Note On The Text, by Celia:
Our family friend, Dale Peterson, who previously contributed this piece (which I liked enough to break TTB policy against Halloween) sent me new piece a few weeks ago.
It was a found Rt. 66 road trip log his father had kept from 1962.
One could reasonably assume a friend’s father’s road trip log from 1962 found in an attic could be a thing of such dullness, only a son might love it. But this came from Dale, so I knew better.
Some things are lost on first reading and realized only on second reading—this was the case with this one.
Upon re-reading Dale’s father’s 1962 journal, this morning, in peaceful early morning silence, I discovered how amazing it was.
At the risk of over-thumbing the editorial, I’d like to prepare the reader. What might you discover in it, if you decide to give it your time and attention?
First, the dry, bone dry humor, that caused me a few times to burst out laughing. (I know laughter is unpredictable but that’s how it hit me.)
Lines like this:
”Wayne was the last to awake this AM as usual. This is quite unexpected because he slept on a chair, which was a convertible. It converted from a chair to a pile of rocks.”
Or this:
“I put a little dab of Brylcream in my hair in case we run into Indians. Had a beer with Tom in the American Legion Post while Tom investigated the whereabouts of “$20 Rainwater”, of the war era. He befriended Tom in 1943 in July. “
Or this:
”Bill put on some act about being bit on the arm so he can’t drive. He’s playing the git fiddle in the back seat - his usual spot.”
The relationships between the three men—
The subtle comedy of their petty squabbles. The details of America, 1962, cars, road stops, motels—I consider this offering a treasure.
And should the question arise: “Why should we care, at a time like this?”
My reply:
I take refuge in words, the nectars of human contradiction, as we stall for time before “AI” writes, thinks, and lives for us, in our stead. Some days I’d rather have a marvelous sentence than a nuclear bomb shelter.
AI could never juxtapose two lines like the late Tom Peterson—AI would make it linear and smooth, one line following the other. This is the extinction event I most fear, the final loss of human expression: incongruity, contradiction, humor. Loss of the worlds raised up by words.
(Greeks said all humor is born from incongruity. Greeks correct again.)
The road trip genre of American writing has many classics one is obliged to revere, such as On The Road, by Jack Kerouac.
I vastly prefer the delight of discovering a “normal” 1960s American man, family man, who wrote this way, with no fanfare or recognition that he might be a “great writer.” You know I oppose “great writing” and you know I have a theory that there is no such thing as a “writer,” only that people write things. What is the difference? The label “writer,” like the word “virus” is a separation word, kind of ruins everything. People cook, people dance, people write. No big deal.
No es gran cosa. (Agent Roger is that how you’d say it?)
Second Note On The Text, by Dale Peterson:
While going through the contents of the abode of my mother, my childhood home, I happened upon a small pocket notebook that contained the log of a journey made by my father and two business associates from San Bernadino, California to Witchita, Kansas. Like an intact shipwreck on the ocean floor, I found this to be a snapshot in time of a road trip in 1962. That was as far from today as it was from 1900.
They couldn’t just get into their climate controlled vehicle, crank up the satellite radio, have their passengers put on headphones and watch videos on their phones while they followed the directions on the GPS, ensconced in their little pod as the country glided by. They closely interacted with their surroundings.
They had no air conditioning, no cruise control, no cell phones, Making a phone call was an event worthy of being recorded for posterity. They sent post cards. Driving off the road was a real possibility. The drone of the open road led to deep, often confrontational, conversations.
Although my father, Tom, was supposedly the official keeper of the log, the other people freely added their own contributions, often consisting of only a line. Unfortunately for Route 66 fans, after Tucumcari the contents of the log seem to switch to the dynamics of the interior of the car. Still, I thought it indicative of the kinds of relationships that developed (or dissolved) during the course of a road trip.
So sit back and enjoy a trip along the Mother Road from over half a century ago. The authors of this epic are Thomas F. Peterson, William Simmons and Wayne L. Simpson.
—-Dale Peterson
OFFICIAL LOG OF THE W.S.S. DART* ~ 1962
WEST TO EAST
(*WAYNE SIMPSON SHIP)
August 24, 1962
Time: 1:55
Mileage: 15650
Departed from WESCON after putting all in order. Poor tired Wayne is master; refreshed Tom P. acting co-pilot - Simmons rear gunner holding down the guitar. Tom verbally directing poor tired Wayne the route to freedom from this rather interestibut now tiresome metropolis.
Tom does not play the harmonica well at all, but Tom never gives up! Never. More music could be attained by merely holding the instrument out of the window and letting the wind do the job. Enroute to San Bernadino on East US 10.
2:10 Underway 15 minutes now. Wayne (Poor tired Wayne, that is) has handled the traffic and changing from freeway to freeway masterfully. However at one point he used some pretty strong language at poor innocent Tom.
2:13 Bill (Quite refreshed Bill, that is) has fallen asleep in the back seat, his usual spot.
San Bernadino. Mileage 15718 and leaving at 4:06 P.M. Just finished eating at the Augustine Hotel Restaurant - Cheapest meals we’ve eaten yet. Wayne - Hamburger steak, French fries, salad, sliced tomatoes, bread, corn, butter. 99 cents. Tom and Bill - Franks, beans, corn on cob, mashed potatoes, bread, butter. 65 cents. And pretty darned good to boot.
Now heading North into the foothills of the Sierra Nevada range on US 15. Hot, dry and brown. The mountains look hot as Hades through the heat haze. 15 should take us through Canyon Pass. Elevation 4301
Passing accident at Richfield gas entrance. Appears that 3 cars were involved. Front end smashed, rear end on other torn up and third car smashed both of ‘em. Wayne taking pictures rapidly. “Flash” Simpson of the Witchita Times.
Entering Barstow at 5:23 PM. Mojave River runs thru here. Elevation 2105
Leaving Barstow 6:37 PM
Mileage 15791 - Oil change, grease job, tires checked, battery water, radiator water, water bag filled. Sent post cards to Claire. I put a little dab of Brylcream in my hair in case we run into Indians. Had a beer with Tom in the American Legion Post while Tom investigated the whereabouts of “$20 Rainwater”, of the war era. He befriended Tom in 1943 in July.
Now headed toward Needles, where the temperature is reputed to be about 115 degrees. Pleading with the non-rock hounds to stop long enough to grab a piece of lava from the lava fields ahead. I’ll be dipped in the Grand Canyon if they didn’t stop long enough for a grab of 6 or 7 pieces. The heat is getting to their addled minds.
7:40 PM:
15844
Bill at last has been persuaded to drive for a few miles. It was exceptionally difficult to get him to relieve poor tired Tom. However, after considerable scuffling, he took the wheel. Somehow we must convince Bill to pull his fair share of the work: Tom and I will discuss this and attempt to find a solution.
9:20 - Bill still driving (15914) although he would like to quit! Stopped in Essex. Tom played an organ, electric that is. Not too good but you could sometimes pick out a melody if you listen closely!
Bill wouldn’t play the guitar since Tom goofed it all up and it was completely out of tune. Bill and I had a Coors and Bill is now driving under the influence of alcohol.
10:17 - 15942 We stopped at Needles, California. Gassed up. Wayne now driving. Bill put on some act about being bit on the arm so he can’t drive. He’s playing the git fiddle in the back seat - his usual spot. This venture is proving quite interesting. We tried to talk about a subject of which one of us was not an expert - We had to abandon this approach or we would wind up with complete silence.
The temp in Needles was near 90+. Earlier in the day it was 112 degrees.
It is 6:00 AM Aug 25, 1962
Bill and Tom both have a birthday today. -
We are behind in log entries of last night, but we arrived in Kingman last nite at 11:40 or thereabouts. Speedometer read 16014. Just after we entered Arizona, we submitted to a reflex test being conducted by the state. We all passed above average as far as fatigue is concerned. We all could tell when the lights went out.
Spent the nite in the Kingman Motel. Tom and Bill went swimming at 12:00 Midnight. Well, it’s morning, as I reported and we are underway. Pause for breakfast. Wayne was the last to awake this AM as usual. This is quite unexpected because he slept on a chair, which was a convertible. It converted from a chair to a pile of rocks.
6:33
Sun up
Breakfast complete
Wayne Driving
Bill Co pilot
Tom manning the aft conning tower.
Bill comments, or rather observes, that Wayne always manages to take his turn at the wheel when we’re all refreshed. Everything we see around here looks like a golf course to Wayne. He has golf on the brain today.
Back in Kingman, real estate seems to be booming. 125’ x 50’ - $395
Electric, city water, gas. Maybe I’ll buy
Wayne sang Happy Birthday to us two and bought breakfast.
8:00 AM Wayne still driving while refreshed. Tom sleeps away the miles deaf to Wayne’s singing.
WE DIDN’T STOP AT THE GRAND CANYON! WAIT TIL ANDY T. HEARS ABOUT THAT!!
Starting up through the foothills to Flagstaff. Wayne still acting like Captain Bligh. I requested a bathroom stop about 60 miles back, but no relief in sight. The bumpy road sure ain’t helpin! Poor Tom needs coffee bad but tyrannical Wayne will not stop. He’s Also a LITTERBUG.
Flaagstaff - 9:42
Mileage 16177
On to Winslow - non-stop I’m sure.
For the first time this trip, I was wrong. Captain Bligh wanted coffee so I got to go. Gave up my coffee ration to look for suitable area curios for the kids, but no luck. Bligh suggested I buy something in Milford, Connecticut. T. Peterson now driving with Wayne asleep in his usual spot. Wayne quite grumpy on this leg. We attribute this to the quite obvious fact that basically he is a tourist but won’t admit it. Tom and Bill admit it. Why can’t he? Talk has it that we will stop at the Petrified Forest, but unless we say we don’t want to stop - we never will.
12:00 Noon
16290
Started on a very wild goose chase. 60 miles out of the way to allow the self admitted tourists to see the Petrified Forest. Won’t they be surprised when they ascertain that they cannot (legally) pick up, transport and remove any petrified wood from this area. As the reader will notice by the mileage figure, 16290, we have driven 16 hours and only covered 640 miles due to Tom and Bill’s frequent stops, which often last for hours. Even allowing for driving only 50 - 60 mph tops, it can be mathematically proved that our slow crawling progress can be directly attributed to their baffling touristic tendencies.
Bill is continually crying about the fact that he has been unable to buy souvenirs for his kids. On a separate sheet of paper, which I can submit in evidence, I have personally accounted for 14 curio shops and curio shops associated with other means of endeavor, i.e. gas stations, cafes etc. which he has “shopped thru”. I consider the term “shopped thru” a misnomer. No purchases.
Bill driving now and he has just deliberately passed a curio shop just so he can cry about not getting any curios.. WOW!
16292
1:05
Another stop three miles out of the way. Bill and Tom just had to see Agate Bridge.
16299
1:22
Finally underway again - Bill stole a rock even though it is against Federal law. So far this trip he has “picked up” (I’ll put it nicely) several postcards, gum, two packs of cigarettes, many rocks, etc. These are only the things we know about! I wonder where he’s hiding all the loot.
Underway once more. I anticipate however that Bill and Tom will stop again in another 5 - 10 miles! I wonder if they realize they can run the battery down with all this starting. Speaking of running, etc. Bill just ran the car off the road. Oh my. The trials and tribulations of a manufacturer’s rep!
Bill and Tom are always attempting to involve me in their petty squabbles. I haven’t spoken for almost two hours now. I find this most effective in staying out of their debates. If the reader cannot decipher this, it’s caused by Bill’s jerky driving!
16306
1:32
I was right! Stopped in exactly 7 miles. It’s a good thing I’m not speaking. If we are ever going to reach the Arizona state line, I believe that I must again take command of the Dart and once more wend our way Eastward.
This time not so bad. Bill and Tom saw all there was to see at the Puerco Indian Reservation in three minutes.
1:35 - Now pointing East
1:37 - Official recorder of the log reviewed what was noted in his absence. Because of the current regulations, these words cannot be stricken from the log. However, it is my just duty to advise the reader that some of the preceding entries may have some considered inaccuracies and it is possible that
(Oh for heaven’s sake! Bill made 2 more stops! Unrequested)
The preceding interruption must be considered unofficial - where was I - Oh yes - It is possible that one of the entries may be flavored by the opinion of the author.
1:50
Well, another stop. This time the Painted Desert. I’m beginning to reconsider the possibility of declaring those earlier statements as official.
At last back on Route 66
1:55 PM - Bill still driving jerky.
Just (1:56) happened to think, I paid the entry fee to this touristic paradise!
2:00 PM - Bill has made some remarks regarding my picture taking. In answer to his unwritten (as yet) statements, the pictures were taken to substantiate, for the record, the number of stops, type of stop, and length of stops. Now I can prove my previous comments in this log. It is even offered into evidence that I was REQUESTED to take pictures of the two tourists, with the Painted Desert as a background. Out of the goodness of my heart, I did this. Upon developing the film, these two can now prove they have been somewhere!
Arrived in Gallup, New Mexico.
3:30
16398
Ate, gassed up - Left 4:30 PM. Tom called Arlene. Now heading to Alburqurque. Amen.
We left Gallup and on to Alberquerque around about 7:30 PM. We were able to pull Bill from the curios shops. In a couple of hours we were on our way. Tom drove. About Midnight we stopped at Santa Rosa for coffee at Del Rey Cafe. Had an uncomfortable experience with a band of Mexican juvenile delinquents. Reported incident to the highway patrol. On to Tucumcari.
Arrived 1:30 AM. Stayed in Golden Motel. 16709 was the reading as we left at 8:30 AM. Bill concerned about not being able to attend some spiritual tribal festivities. Maybe he can send his money in by mail.
Wayne driving.
Rolling terrain is reminiscent of Kansas - pronounced Can’s SAW
Wayne has been homesick for three days now. He seems to improve as we keep getting closer to Witchita. For awhile he was pretty low. Bill now looks pretty despondent because there are no curios shops in sight.
There is an apparent lack of respect for the religious beliefs of others noted in this group. Bill would most certainly welcome the opportunity to attend Mass this Sunday morning, but both Wayne and Tom refuse to discuss the right to honor God this day.
Here I note a strange attitude toward religion. A little extra effort seems to become a major chore when religion appears on the scene. Tom always worried about spending money in church. Thank the Lord he saves money on some items. He can’t seem to realize tho that to honor God asks for no money - only a little time. Well, I forgive both and shall ask the Lord to help them see the light. Meanwhile, I’ll do the next best thing. Amen.
Hallelujah, Brother!
Repent or Burn -
5:25 August 26
Entered city limits of Witchita, Kansas - a small oasis which has many scattered lodges - Moose, Elks, etc. The last few hours have been rather uneventful. Same old routine. Wayne and Bill arguing (as they call it discussion). This time about religion. The conclusion was up with sideways from now on.
Tom much in presence during Wayne and Bill’s discussion, turned into an argument, where he participated. It’s good to be back, even if it is Witchita. On to the Holiday Inn - and then home, I hope, eventually, that is.
17540
Time 5:40 PM
Aug 26
We have been away too long.
That was awesome. And as an amateur harmonica player I got a particular kick out of the entry in the beginning about Tom’s playing and how holding the tin sandwich out the car window would produce better music.
“On The Road Again,” by Willie Nelson…
“Route 66,”by Nat King Cole, Manhattan Transfer, Rolling Stones, and many more musical artists recorded Route 66. This song will never die…. Thanks Celia… Happy Thanksgiving everyone!