Grandpa and my mother in the winter of 1939
Part 2 of my Grandfather’s Cross Country Expedition. Made in the summer of 1935, his report covers a trip made from a small town in Minnesota to San Diego, California and back. The trip took 3 1/2 weeks, and covered around 4,700 miles.
For reference, all my comments are in italics, while Grandpa’s words appear in plain text. D/S
July 31st
A day of driving without any scenic destinations.
The following day we had dinner in Helena and supper in Kalispel, then drove to the entrance of Glacier National Park on the west side where we spent the night.
Our travelers had to choose one of two roads on the west side of Three Forks. Did they choose the road less traveled?
I’ve traced Grandpa’s trip based strictly on the text description, but these maps reflect current roads, and his actual path may not follow the same choices I made. For example, we know they dined in Helena on July 31. This means they must have taken US highway 287 from Three Forks to Helena (and may have passed the billboard shown above). However after dinner they could have cut over to Garrison, MT on Highway 12 and driven to Kalispell via Missoula. D/S
August 1st
This day included the most detailed description of the trip, but I’m not sure of the exact path from the Canadian border to Idaho.
We entered Glacier Park on Aug.1st and drove through over the skyline drive. We hoped to get up into the clouds and very nearly did, but not quite. This skyline drive thru very rugged mountains is certainly worth the price of the whole tip. The road climbs up a very sheer mountain side allowing a fine view of the canyon below and the surrounding mountains practically all of the time. We saw a few bears and deer here also. We saw too a great deal of timber, which had been ruined by forest fires. Easy to understand why they have to be so strict with fire. It certainly ruins an otherwise beautiful country.
Grandpa refers to Glacier Park’s scenic drive as “the skyline drive.” There is a “Skyline Drive” in Shenandoah National Park, but the scenic drive in Glacier is called “Going to the Sun Road.” Under construction from 1921 to 1932, it was formally dedicated on July 15th, 1933 (two years before this trip). Like Trail Ridge Road in Colorado, snow closes the road for much of the year, with the opening and closing dates determined by Mother Nature. D/S
A detailed description of the Going-to-the Sun Road
We came out of the park at the east entrance and went north into Canada to Waterton Lakes. Here we saw the Prince of Wales hotel. This is also a beautiful park. But when we came to buy gas we decided we’d seen enough of Canada. We had paid as high as 25 cents for gas in Yellowstone but 35 cents a gallon even if the gallon is a little longer didn’t appeal to us, so we went north of Waterton and headed south again at the first opportunity, which happened to be New Gate or Gateway. They are so close together they might as well be one town.
Grandpa’s description of Canadian gas prices still applies in contemporary times! For our younger readers, his comment “even if the gallon is a little longer’ refers to the Imperial Gallons which were used in Canada up through the seventies. An Imperial Gallon is 160 ounces (five quarts), so the 35 cent price converts to 28 cents per US gallon, 3 cents higher than that expensive Yellowstone gas. D/S
Here we had trouble with a Canadian Customs officer. The gate was closed since it was after six when we arrived so we had to look them up in their houses. We made the mistake of going to the Immigration officer instead of Customs. He took our card and did not mention that we were doing anything wrong. However the Customs officer stopped us and gave us %&#% and also told us we couldn’t get through the American gate. The American officials were fine however, and we got right thru.
The Newgate border crossing was on the west side of the Kootenay River (also spelled Kootenai), and according to Wikipedia the American office closed in 1933, with the Canadian office closing in 1939. This could explain the mixed messages Grandpa encountered in 1935. A border crossing remains on the east side of the river in Roosville, but I’d hardly call the area heavily trafficked even today. D/S
A Canadian Customs building from 1933.
From Gateway we decided to take a shortcut to the west over a Ranger’s trail. Once fellow warned us against it, but as it meant a saving of a hundred miles or more we decided to take it. It went by a series of switch backs straight over the mountains, and was so narrow that it would have been impossible to have met or passed anyone except in a few places. In fact, we followed a Model T to the top because there wasn’t a chance to get by him.
The west side was worse than the east. Steep canyon walls beside the trail most of the way down. Fortunately we met no one. After we got down we hit very rough, rocky road for several miles. which made it rather slow. We got to see mile after mile of fine timber on this trip. The deuce of it was we were not supposed to smoke there and didn’t, which was hard on Donald and I.
We also saw a couple of deer and badger on our way through. We got thru about midnight and as we had not stopped for supper we had a lunch and made camp just across the line in Idaho.
As I mentioned in the last post, “lunch” refers to a pick up meal on the road rather than the noon meal, and in this case they “had a lunch” a little after midnight. D/S
August 2nd
After a hectic trip through Canada and setting up camp in the early morning, our travelers had a late start and made leisurely time through western Washington state.
We had no water where we camped so we drove on tell we came to a nice stream where we made breakfast and spent a little time getting cleaned up. We drove thru Spokane and Wenatchee in the afternoon. We were a little early here as the apples were not ripe yet. We bought some and all had a tummy ache because they were green. We found a dandy place to camp beside a swift mountain stream. We have left the hot weather behind. The girls have the heater on at times.
Not my Grand-folks, but Shorpy provides us with a nice campsite picture from the mid thirties
August 3rd
A short drive into Seattle, and then the rest of the day visiting in town
Saturday we crossed the Cascades and drove into Seattle. Here was a city that appealed immediately to all of us. We went first to Thorgerson’s but none of them were home so we went to Rev. Hilton’s. The Pacific fleet was in the harbor and Hiltons took us out to the fleet and we went aboard the Colorado. Save myself none of us had seen a battleship so it was quite an afternoon.
Seattle’s Woodland Park Zoo in 1934
After the ship we went to look over the Canal and locks and from there to the zoo. In the evening Thorgersons came to Hilton’s where we all had a fine supper and maybe you think we didn’t enjoy it after our camp meals. After supper we all went to a park where we could see the fleet put on a searchlight display. Seventeen naval vessels played their searchlights on the clouds, swinging them in arcs. It was a fine spectacle.
A naval searchlight display from 1937
August 4th
Lots of sightseeing, then a brief jaunt south toward the Columbia River
Since Hiltons had company for the night, we stayed at Thorgerson’s. In the morning Martin and Wilford took us to the docks, Hoovertown and the airport.
“Hoovertown” or “Hooverville” would refer to a tent city of itinerant workers, as 1935 was the depths of the depression. Hoover referred (somewhat derisively) to President Hoover, and these areas appeared in many towns across the country. D/S
More shacks than tents, there are many pictures of the Seattle Hooverville available.
At the airport there was a new Boeing bomber built for the U.S. Army. It was a four motored ship with a cruising speed of 250 miles per hour. It was a metal ship and certainly a fine looking one.
The Boeing bomber he mentions here could be several different ships, but the Model 299 rolled out for its first test flight just three weeks earlier, and I found a picture of it taken at Boeing Field on August 13th, making it a prime candidate. The model 299 was also called the XB-17 and eventually evolved into the B-17. D/S
A shiny new Boeing Model 299
We came back to Thorgerson’s by the way of Washington Lake where we saw some very fine homes. We went to Rev. Hilton’s church to a musical service upon our return. After a fine dinner at Thorgerson’s we started on our journey again. We headed south thru Tacoma and Olympia and by the time we had hit open country again it was time for supper which we cooked beside the road. We continued after supper and finally camped not far from the Columbia river.
August 5th
A fairly slow slog down the Oregon Coast
In the morning we crossed the river into Oregon, then Portland, and pushed on south ‘till we were about straight east from Marshfield (now Coo’s Bay, Oregon- D/S), which is on the coast and was once Marjorie’s home town. We then went to the coast where we took a free ferry across the bay. We located Marjorie’s old home without trouble, though now it looks quite neglected. We went on to Coquille and on through town where we had supper. We drove down the Coast then and spent the night at a state fish hatchery.
August 6th
Moving East, and sightseeing at Crater Lake
In the morning we discovered that if we wanted to see Crater Lake we’d have to go back to Coquille, which we did. We took another short cut in the afternoon, which was not quite as bad as the one we struck in Montana. The road was torn up in places as they are building a highway through the hills.
Crater Lake, Oregon
We got to Crater Lake in the mid-afternoon. It is a beautiful dark blue lake in an extinct volcano crater. The sides of the crater rise steep and sheer from the water for about a thousand feet. There is a wooded island in the lake and the lake is surrounded by a fine stand of timber reaching for miles in every direction.
Klamath Lake with Mount Shasta (California) to the south
After the lake we headed south again by the way of Klamath Lake. That evening we entered California into a fine stretch of desert. We pulled out into the sage brush and had supper and also spent the night in the sage.
August 7th
A long drive down through Northern California to the north edge of San Francisco Bay
When we awoke in the morning we discovered Mt. Shasta rearing it’s snowy head to the south. Early in the forenoon we passed the base of Shasta and got into a high enough altitude so that the heat didn’t bother us. We continued that afternoon and evening and reached Vallejo shortly after nightfall. We discovered that to get to San Francisco from Vallejo we’d have to cross a toll bridge to Oakland and also have to cross on the ferry to San Francisco, which would cost us more than we cared to pay so we camped out of Vallejo that night.
Vallejo, CA circa 1935
August 8th
Frisco sightseeing, followed by a trip east to Yosemite and more bear country.
In the morning we drove to Sausalito and took the ferry across the Golden Gate to San Francisco. We had a good view of the new Golden Gate bridge, which is in the course of construction. They have the two end piers erected and some of the cable strung across.
It’s hard to fathom Grandpa saw the Golden Gate Bridge prior to completion. While my intellect understands the bridge did not always exist, it’s been in place for my entire lifetime, and the lifetime of my parents. Is this not by definition permanence?
Golden Gate Bridge under construction in 1935
We went by Alcatraz Prison on the ferry and docked close to Fisherman’s Wharf. Fisherman’s Wharf was the first place of interest we visited in San Francisco. The girls didn’t care about the fish smell and were very certain that they didn’t want to eat any of the fish, which were cooking in large pots on the side of the walk.
From Fisherman’s Wharf we went to Chinatown where the girls bought some gifts and souvenirs. It was really quite cold in San Francisco and we road some of the time with the heater on. We drove completely around San Francisco along the bay and coast. Fog was blowing in off the ocean so we could not see very far out to sea.
Downtown San Jose, 1935
From San Francisco we went to San Jose and then to Tracy where we received some mail. From Tracy we headed for Yosemite and got quite deep into the mountains before we stopped for the night. As we were making our beds and old fellow came up the hill and passed us, which made the girls nervous. Zoe and I were awakened in the night by the cries of some animal and I don’t believe Zoe slept much more that night.
I assume “old fellow” refers to another bear visiting the camp site, which would explain my grandmother’s insomnia..
As a side note, I asked my Mother for more information on the Seattle friends they visited on August 3rd and 4th, and she did not recognize their names. However, Grandpa wrote this report for his hometown paper (The Kiester Courier). Since he mentions these folks in a casual and familiar manner, I suspect his friends (Reverend Hilton and the Thorgersen’s) may have started out in Minnesota, and thus were known to the readers.
Additional Posts:
Post 1- Kiester to Yellowstone
Post 3- San Francisco to Los Angeles (via Yosemite)
Post 4- Los Angeles to Home
Really enjoyable series, this, Dave S., and thankyou for it.
Though I must add, postcard-style, “Have ended up down many an internet rabbit-hole since starting. Hope to learn just to go along for the ride soon.”
I love these looks into a time and place that went away a long time ago. The Plymouth seems to have taken very good care of the.
And following the Model T up the mountain sounds like another way of saying it was a really slow climb.
What a fascinating account!
The Boeing Model 299 would crash on takeoff in October of that year due to the test pilot forgetting to disable the control locks that kept the huge control surfaces from banging around in the wind. Both pilots were killed, and the other two passengers survived with injuries. Checklists would be implemented as a result, which are the norm today, even for light aircraft.
We’ve been to a few of the same places, including Kootenai Falls, which I documented here in a series of posts from our 2012 road trip. We were in our 2005 Town & Country and thankfully didn’t get stuck behind any Model T cars. When I read that, I wondered if it might possibly have been Darlene Dorgan in her Silver Streak, but they made their trip West in 1940.
Notably, there really aren’t any accounts of car trouble (so far) in the diary.
Looking forward to the next installment!
Even with checklists accidents like this still occur. Back in the late seventies the travelling party for the University of Evansville basketball team were in a crash caused by the aircrew neglecting to remove the gust locks before takeoff. The plane got airborne before the crew realized that, basically, there was no way to control the aircraft. The plane attempted to return to the airport, using the engines to maneuver, but the aircraft (a DC3 operated by some charter company) crashed before it could land; there were no survivors. The team was flying to Nashville for a road game; ironically enough they could have bussed from Evansville to Nashville in less time they waited for the weather to improve enough to fly.
“Notably, there really aren’t any accounts of car trouble (so far) in the diary.”
Grandpa was a mechanic by trade, so any issues he encountered would be “another day in the office,” and may have been skipped over.
We can also assume he gave the car a thorough check up pre-trip, and made regular vehicle checks en route. He did have an issue with their (hone made) trailer in the last segment, and he’ll have a similar report next week.
My parents used to do a lot of vacation trips when they were first married in the fifties. I have home movies from their travels and many many tales of the road. It definitely seemed like a different world.
Going back a couple decades further is even more fascinating to read.
Looking forward to the rest of the trip with these adventurous folks!
Been eagerly anticipating the second installment. Thank you.
Another enjoyable insight into to past — I love this series.
The thought of a group of civilians visiting a naval base and being able to board a battleship in port is somewhat hard to fathom in our modern age. I wonder for how long that tradition endured?
I like the description of the US-Canada border crossing. If one looks hard enough, you can still find some former US or Canadian border crossing buildings — they’ve been bypassed by the larger modern stations, but some are still standing in more rural parts of the border.
The trouble they had crossing the border reminds me of a story my wife’s uncle tells from when he was a teenager in Detroit in about the same era. He and his friends would occasionally walk over the Ambassador Bridge to Windsor, Ontario (unaccompanied by any adult… times were different then) — spend an afternoon in Canada, and then walk back home.
One day, the US customs officer gave him and his friends trouble on their way back to the States. I wouldn’t be surprised if this was preceded by some teenage arrogance on Uncle Dan’s part, but the customs officer effectively said “I’m not letting you cross the border because I don’t believe you’re really Americans.”
Of course, with no ID it was impossible for Uncle Dan and his friends to prove they were, in fact, Americans, so some panic ensued. After a tense few minutes, the border official threw them a softball question, and a lifeline: “If you’re really Americans, you can tell me who was 16th president.”
In those days, any schoolkid would knew that Abraham Lincoln was our 16th president. However Uncle Dan jumped the gun a bit and blurted out “Millard Fillmore.” His friends were furious at him. The customs officer eventually let them cross anyway, after a few stern warnings.
I’m not sure whether that group of friends continued they daytrips to Windsor or not after that point, but I suspect not.
“The thought of a group of civilians visiting a naval base and being able to board a battleship in port is somewhat hard to fathom in our modern age. I wonder for how long that tradition endured?”
Back in the mid-1980s, my college buddies and I road tripped to visit the Naval Aviation Museum in Pensacola, FL. The CV-16 Lexington was still an active ship at the time, primarily used for training. They offered tours when she was in port, and we showed up just as they were about the close down the tours for the day. The last regular guide had already departed with a group, so a passing swab was hailed and he gave us a far better tour than we otherwise would have gotten, including through areas not normally visited by the public.
Lexington is now based in Corpus Christi, TX as a museum ship, having been struck from the Naval Register in 1991.
I, too, have been aboard the Lexington (the second carrier by that name; the first was lost in the Battle of the Coral Sea). She was visiting San Francisco, no longer a front line fleet carrier and already the Navy’s training carrier.
I also visited the battleship USS New Jersey while on active duty, in San Francisco and assigned to go to Vietnam. She was to be open to recruits only for tours; by invitations issued by Navy recruiters; I was in my late teens, didn’t have an invitation; but upon going to see the ship from the outside, was invited to go aboard for a visit to see the inside. Decades later I visited her again, in her role as a museum ship in Camden, NJ.
A couple of years ago I took a group of students to a couple of naval base sites, including boarding a submarine that was in port. The amount of paper work that had to be done, both by our host, a retired submariner who had served with the base commander, and all of the proof of citizenship ect for the students and the rest of the adults was significant.
Enjoying this, and riding along vicariously, as we’ve been to all these places. We were up in Canada in early September (Banff-Jasper, etc.) and spent a day at Waterton before crossing back into the US and taking the Going-to-the-Sun road through Glacier, our second time, but this time the other direction.
All of the places in Washington, Oregon and CA are of course our back yard. But it must have been quite different then, on the old highways.
This series is great. I also reside in Minnesota and the first part route mirrored a trip I took to Seattle about ten years ago. Born and raised on the flatland of Minnesota I had a few anxiety attacks driving through the mountains my first time, especially Snoqualmie pass in Washington state. I cannot imagine driving those first generation roads prior to the interstate system. Very thoughtful of you to reconstitute and enhance this journal snapshot in time.
I am enjoying this story a lot
“As a side note, I asked my Mother for more information on the Seattle friends they visited on August 3rd and 4th, and she did not recognize their names. However, Grandpa wrote this report for his hometown paper (The Kiester Courier). Since he mentions these folks in a casual and familiar manner, I suspect his friends (Reverend Hilton and the Thorgersen’s) may have started out in Minnesota, and thus were known to the readers.”
In looking this over (I am a history major) I have discovered some info that might be useful
There was a Martin L Thorgerson (born 1887 in Logan Township, Calhoun County, Iowa – Died 1962 in Seattle Wa) and a Wilford C Thorgerson (Born 1910 in Kiester, Minnesota – Died 1989 Seattle Wa) in Seattle Wa at that time. Wilford was a son of Martin(who had 3 sons and 2 daughters)
According to the the 1940 Census
Martin was living at
4016 N 41st St
Seattle, Wa
Ether your grandfather misspelled the name so that there was an e instead of an o or there was a name change by the 1940 Census
I could find nothing on Hilton
Very cool, I’ll share your research with my mother-
Kiester’s population was around 500 back then, and Grandpa mentions Martin and Wilford while in Seattle, so there’s your research seems to confirm my assumption (at least in regards to the Thorgersens).
Those Scandinavian names have some subtle rules – my sister married someone of Danish background, and a last name ending in “en”. I was told that it was the Swedes and Norwegians whose names ended in “on”, so Ericksen vs. Erickson tells you something about ancestry. I don’t think most non-nordics get the distinction (I certainly didn’t, even with a Norwegian grandmother) so a lot of those names have probably gotten misspelled out in the various regions of the US.
Great series! So far it is covering a lot of places I’ve driven many times. Sure many of the roads I’ve used didn’t exist when this story takes place, ie the Interstates. However a lot of this takes place far from those modern roads and it is highly likely that I’ve followed some of the exact same paths.