The Road To Tucson - Part 2 of 2 by KimB

First time travelers in the desert learned really fast that you don't travel by day. After about 10 AM the heat becomes really noticeable and shortly there-after you'd wished you had stopped at that seedy little motor court you sneered at as you passed it by. And with no other hamlets within hours and hours, you learned and burned your way to the next wide-spot-in-the-road and headed to whatever accommodations you could get, no questions asked, and hoped for at least a swamp-cooler to temper the desert's wrath.

Evenings were for travel, and at sundown the roads would fill up with savvy travelers heading farther and farther into the the desert. The temperature of the desert would plummet as the sun faded away and driving would be enjoyable. You couldn't see much but at least you could be comfortable while heading to your destination.

Our car had a radio but out of the main cities there was no reception. The shot-gun-seat rider would often turn the knobs vainly looking for something to listen too, but generally, only static was found. We found our own entertainments, watching license plates, counting box cars in passing freight trains, animal-vegetable-mineral guessing games and other amusements.

But most often we sang songs for the long hours of driving the highway. We knew lots of them and we each took turns suggesting a song and then we would sing it – all three of us. We would sing the same song multiple times as we practiced to get it “just right” or “what was that phrase again?” or “remind me, how does that go?”. The longer the song the better – all 9,000 verses of Barbara Allen was a favorite. If we muffed a verse we started over “from the top” to get things in the proper order. Later on, my personal repertory of songs was large enough to entertain drivers for 3 days without repeating a one - unless requested of course.

My brother often wrote his own songs and we all enthusiastically helped sing them as we traveled the highway. Sometimes we had a collaboration: Mom, me and my brother would work out a song together; topics, phrases, melodies would be reviewed and best lines chosen and we would sing the resulting song for hours but many of these faded away with the sunrise. A few lasted and became staples along with the English muffins. We sang them each time we traveled the road and laughed about our adventures as we headed towards the horizon and Grandma's Cafe.

Grandma's Cafe
[to the tune of Botany Bay]

It's not leaving Los Angeles we care about,
Or driving the highway all day,
It's the blooming monotony that wears us out,
And the prospects of Grandma's Cafe.

[Editor's note: This story was written by KimB and is part 2 of a 2 part series.]