Before we leave my first car in the metaphorical Curbside Classic dust, it may be worth relating some snippets of cross-country adventures successfully completed during my college years at Art Center. (Don’t worry, further art-school reminiscences are forthcoming.)
One such cross-country odyssey, made during a holiday-season three-week semester break, included two of my fellow Transportation Design students who played key supporting roles throughout the trip.
We departed from Los Angeles early on a sunny Friday afternoon, after having scored a loaf of white bread, a bottle of ranch dressing, and a roll of paper towels at a local supermarket. Gourmets may scoff, but what better provisions for a trio of starving art students to bring along on a 3,000-mile journey, especially since we didn’t want to waste valuable time stopping to eat along the way?
Road food for starving art students.
We also didn’t want to spend money on overnight motel stays, since we were trying to maximize our R&R time with families and friends over Christmas ’71 and New Year’s. Our plan -we were young and foolish, after all- was to drive the entire length of the country in one straight shot, turning off the Comet’s ignition only while stopping to refuel.
Once we left L.A.’s multiple rock-oriented AM radio offerings, the listening alternatives became somewhat more limited. Our on-the-road protocol went something like this: The front-seat passenger’s duty was to ensure that the driver remained awake and coherent. This mostly involved providing commentary on the Art Center semester just ended along with design critiques of passing vehicles. Just as important, the shotgun-seat occupant was the driver’s designated feeder, supplying him with enough white bread-and-ranch-dressing sandwiches to keep him reasonably satisfied. (The rear-seat occupant was generally tasked with the assembly of said sandwiches.)
As night fell, we soldiered onward, the only difference being that the rear-seat passenger attempted to catch a bit of shut-eye while those in front tried to keep each other relatively awake and alert.
The only memorable mechanical malady on this mid-winter trip manifested itself in stages as we traveled through the plains states on a frigid winter evening. At first, we detected a vague aroma of coolant in the passenger compartment, never a good sign. Despite that, we elected to press on for as long as possible, finally turning off the heater and defroster in a vain attempt to reduce the leakage. As we pressed on, traces of the sticky-sweet coolant mix began to coat the inside of the windshield, immediately freezing and thus obscuring our forward vision.
We blocked off the Comet’s defroster outlets and attempted to clear the windshield while driving, swiping it awkwardly (and continuously) with one paper towel after another. Now driving at a somewhat reduced velocity, we eventually reached the point where we were exiting the interstate at every opportunity, looking for a spot to grab some warming cups of coffee (which then necessitated frequent human pit stops). I’m probably speaking for all three of us when I say that I never again hope to endure such miserable, bone-chilling cold, whether behind the wheel or not.
Near the Continental Divide, before the heater core incident…
Finally, by the grace of whoever is the patron saint of cold, tired, and foolish travelers, on one of our off-interstate excursions we passed a Ford dealer in the sleepy hamlet of Oakley, Kansas in the wee hours of the morning. Parking the Comet near the dealership’s service entrance, we tried to catch some very fitful sleep until they opened for business the next morning.
The service tech correctly diagnosed our issue as a pinhole leak in the Caliente’s heater core, which required removing the dash pad and several other assemblies to access.
The culprit, exposed…
I accompanied the tech to the local radiator shop, where the heater core was repaired, successfully pressure-tested, and ready for re-installation. Repair completed, the parts, labor, and sublet heater core work amazingly totaled less than $15.00! Our newly-enhanced driving comfort, however? Priceless.
The dealership tech drove an Econoline pickup like this one. Source: Motorbiscuit
Oh, and our cross-country trip wasn’t just one straight shot; it included a side trip of about 200 miles to John’s folks place in Mt. Vernon, Illinois, where we enjoyed a most welcome home-cooked dinner. The adventure also extended to Oceanside, New York, where Jeff then abandoned the Mercury for the comforts of home, leaving me to head back to northern NJ solo.
The ’71-’72 holidays provided some welcome time at home and a chance to decompress after the first semester of college (and after the rigors of the road trip). My next westward trip would be made in the Comet’s replacement…
White bread and ranch dressing sandwiches?! That’s a new one for me; even though the maxim is “don’t knock it, ’til you’ve tried it”, I think I’ll just pass on this one, LOL!! The rigors of the young, dumb extended road trip , an enjoyable read! 🙂
Nauseated at the thought.
The great American road trip on a budget – now largely a thing of the past for better or worse. Today such circumstances are much more likely to entail an Uber to the airport, 2+ hours going through check-in and security, 4+ hours crammed into an economy seat next to a screaming kid or the extremely obese mother, an unfriendly flight attendant not offering any meal, pillow, or blanket, and frequent prayers that the door won’t fly off the plane and that your luggage will not be lost upon arrival. Some will call that progress.
Another well told story .
When I made these cross America jaunts in the same years I’d buy a loaf or two of bread, package of baloney and another of cheese slices .
One made they’d fit back into the bag for traveling .
Surprised you didn’t try any stop leak products, there are far better ones now .
I vividly remember one freezing trip to New York from Boston in a ’64 Ford Fairlane coupe that a plugged heater core thanx to my idiot middle brothers overuse of Bar’s leaks .
-Nate
“The great American road trip on a budget – now largely a thing of the past for better or worse. ”
Worse ~ far worse .
Young folks used to learn to deal with life’s curve balls doing these trips .
-Nate
A great story! But I think some of you are writing the obituary of the road trip a bit prematurely. I take a lot of recreational road trips (on one right now), and in modern reliable vehicles. But I’m not talking about myself. However, on these trips I see a lot of folks who seem to be traveling somewhere with limited resources. The guy in the first-gen FWD Malibu who needed a jump start at a rest area in Arizona. The mother and daughter sleeping in their minivan with Ontario plates, lots of Ontario rust, and seemingly all their worldly possessions, at a campground in BC. And lots of young people sleeping in older cars by the roadsides. Usually 10-20 year old Japanese cars though; no Comet convertibles 😀.
I could be wrong, but I suspect that Mr. Hansen and his two buddies Cometed east because it was a cheaper way to get home than flying, and much better than taking the bus. Today, that the flight is likely to be cheaper than driving. Obviously driving is still better if sightseeing is the main motivation or for people fearful of flying, but de-regulation of airlines has greatly changed the economics of long distance travel.
To this point, my last major roadtrip, spanning 5,000 miles from Texas to the East Coast and Midwest and back, ended up costing more than airfare and a rental car combined. The primary reason was I spent two 12-13 hour days driving each way, thus incurring hotel and meal costs that would have been unnecessary if I had simply flown (roughly 7 hours door-to-door). Granted, driving was somewhat less stressful, and I enjoyed seeing the varied landscape along roads I had never travelled before, but I don’t plan to make a similar trip again soon.
TIL that ranch dressing existed in 1971. I thought its invention was decades later than that.
Love road trip stories when we were young and fearless. Summer, 1970, I was returning to college in Miami from NC after a visit with parents. Dad had borrowed my T-Bird, wrecked my Bird two days before my departure. My retired Air Force Dad gave me a blank check and my marching orders to go see his friend at a Chevy dealership and get something practical meaning not a Camaro. So I bought a new 1970 Nova SS 396, and Dad thought that a Nova was practical until he got the insurance bill later. Anyway, a college friend from Miami flew to NC to drive back with me. So two hippy kids in a hot car headed off in the Nova with temporary tags. Somewhere in middle nowhere GA, on a two lane road (years before I-95 was complete) I passed a somewhat hidden patrol car. I flashed my lights at oncoming autos to warn them to slow down. That pissed off Mr. Bear and I was pulled over and I knew I was not speeding. Almost an hour on the roadside with Mr. Bear and he did everything but strip search us two long hairs. Yes, we had some rolled weed stashed in our socks. Police seldom felt up your socks. Mr. Bears parting comment was we don’t like your kind and I will be watching you. I drove white-knuckled until I crossed the Florida border.
Georgia is a beautiful state but to this day if I have to drive across GA I gas up at the border so I can pass through without stopping. Funny or not, for decades driving from the upper East Coast to South Florida the speed traps are still at the same locations.
Side note: When young I traveled with Ritz crackers, cheese slices, and peanuts.
Thanks for another enjoyable tale. For quite a few years I kept my full toolbox in my trunk, because you never knew what was the next thing that was going to break or fail on an old car, and I wanted to be maximally prepared. But tools probably would not have helped with the heater core, other than maybe to try and bypass it. But the frigid weather might have made me re-think that. You stumbled on one really good Ford dealer!
Roadtrips during the college years were lots of fun and great learning experiences. I am about ten years younger than the author, so perhaps the reliability of cars during the mid-Malaise era was a bit better, as we never experienced any major mechanical issues (or we were just plain lucky). About the worst thing I can recall is when I hit a turkey vulture while speeding through a national forest at near 100 mph in a borrowed car, but the damage seemed to be limited to blood, feathers and gore smeared across the grille and windshield. A trip through an automatic car wash removed about 70% of the mess, so we called it good and we were on our way.
I am enjoying this series very much, so thanks for your efforts.
Wouldn’t drive my own car “100 mph” let alone a “borrowed one”.
Fixing the “failed , heater core” on my “81 Citation” cost waay more then fifteen bucks..lol The winter of “84-85” I believe it was.
Ford liked to bury the heater core and blower motor under the dash. My ’70 Mustang had the core bypassed, you could see the open heater pipe fittings from under the hood. Most of my GM cars had the blower mounted on the cowl at the firewall, accessible from under the hood. I changed out an inoperative blower motor on my ’84 Cougar when it was out of warranty. It too was buried under the dash.
On my long motorcycle trips, almost never done in the Winter, which meant rain in the Bay Area, I would eat a huge breakfast, and that would hold me through the day. Breakfast being the cheapest meal at roadside restaurants.