The 53 Ford was laden with the band equipment and the clock having started for Jerry and Gary’s 1600 mile trek to Oklahoma. Gary’s view of his East Oakland hills childhood home on Greenly Drive was in recession, the landmark hillside mass extracted by the Gallagher and Burk quarry and the edifice of Oak Knoll Naval Hospital, a station for 6000 during WWII extirpating the advancing dysphoria that comes with goodbyes. His brief return enabled a search for congruity, to establish an imprint rather than to absorb and reflect on the caliber of his surroundings, but giving thought to his flight as an opportunity or a prospective but still questionable and with his departure the chronicles would remain as written.
The black 53 Ford Convertible peregrinating southeast on mountain boulevard to McArthur boulevard, then eastward on US 50, the voyage just beginning. Upon entering Castro Valley an immediate complication, a dashboard blinking red light once again appearing, serving notice of a generator in distress. A sense of day ja view beginning to prevail, it was the same problem experienced on the bands trip west. After a brief discussion, the two musicians concluding that it was better to resolve the problem now while in the civilized world, rather than later in the middle of the Mojave desert. Exiting the highway into metro Castro Valley, the search for an automotive repair facility coming to a conclusion, and with the installation of a rebuilt generator, the two stalwarts once again resuming the ambiguous journey, Oklahoma their ambition, uncertainty a destination. With highway 50 merging with 99 north to Sacramento, the ford traveling south on 99 to Bakersfield, and the junction of 58 to Barstow.
Inaugurating 58, they passed a hitchhiker adorning a denim jacket, possessing a small suitcase satchel. Gary recalling, and mentioning to Jerry his thumbing days at Fort Ord, and the unforgettable experience of an eighteen wheeler auto transport rig stopping for him and a soldier buddy named Steward, being asked where they were headed and wanted off, then told the cars were unlocked, realizing there wasn’t room for both of them in the cab. They rode from San Jose to Oakland in an upper trailer level new ford. Continuing on, the two still keeping a watchful eye on the dash, a lingering doubt still remained but confidence was prevailing, the generator was behaving normally. Hopefully this trip across the arid Mojave expanse to Barstow and beyond should go without incident. Unlike their first encounter and the summer desert heat, unable to put the convertible top up because of a hastily storage arrangement. This time the enclosed transport provided a more convening environment. Oklahoma their ambition, uncertainty a destination.
Neither Jerry or Gary having bequeath the weather a single thought, residency in the bay area tends to make a person circumvent weather extremes, especially in October, but approaching Flagstaff, the temperature began dropping and a powdery light snow began to fall. Jerry having a concern about antifreeze, noting that the Ford was devoid of the weather accommodating substance. The two deciding on a brief stop to eat and gas up at a truck stop in Flagstaff, questioning about the weather, the local attendant reassuring them that this early season powder would not hamper their travel.
The attendant was right, exiting town the snow ceased, the Ford procuring its downhill eastward journey, and with their descent the sun once again proclaimed itself. It was leaving Winslow that the two once again encountered an elapsed hitchhiker in a denim jacket with a small satchel, both commenting that this was the second time they had passed this person. Gary having thoughts about a 1960 twilight zone episode, the Hitch-Hiker, only it was Inger Stevens appraising the same hitchhiker several time during her travels. The Californian mentioning the scenario to Jerry, both laughing, but it was agreed upon, if the traveler appears again, they would stop and accord his plight.
It was leaving Albuquerque, the two in the Ford professing an upcoming truck-stop, noticing a person wearing a denim jacket and carrying a small suitcase satchel standing, thumb extending facing the oncoming traffic, it was the phantom traveler. Without hesitation, Jerry pulled the Ford to the side of the road, the hitch-hiker approaching, thanking them, introducing himself saying he was traveling to Shamrock Texas. When questioned about his thumbing conveyances, he related it was the big rigs that provided his rides, which answered the question of seeing more than once,.\ but to the two travelers in the ford, the twilight zone still remained ominous.
The wayfarers of the highway arriving in Lawton, fulfilling thirty-two hours of travel since leaving Oakland, their Castro Valley generator replacement stop included, the two weary travelers ready for a brief hibernation. Glenn having rented the two bedroom side of a duplex for the couple and their new addition, mentioning to the west coast arrivals, it could serve as a temporary reside pending getting their own accommodation. Glenn was true to his word, giving assurance, having booked them for the coming weekend. Gary discerned it would take time for the group to reach a status of ascendancy, but by renewing the initiative and collating their individual virtuosity, wonders could be accomplished, and the untouchables would be ready to take on the competitive challenge.
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