Decades passed, though, with no return to Canada put on our calendars. My family always thought that one day we would go back and tend to the unfinished business. A golden-age traveler looks back, and now forward Trying to finish the odyssey
We crammed into two vehicles - a two-speed '64 Pontiac Tempest LeMans, which pulled the travel trailer, and a loaded '69 Pontiac GTO - and started our grand getaway. The family pets (i.e., two dogs and two cats) also joined us.
MAKING THE JOURNEY BACK PLUS
Ten of us were along for the adventure, including me, my mom, my dad and my sister, plus two friends, three grandparents and an aunt. The epic cross-country (countries) journey with our travel trailer became a series of chapters bound together into a single journal. In retrospect, we probably logged about 2,600 miles one-way, as Santa Fe, New Mexico Telluride, Colorado Moab, Utah Salt Lake City Sun Valley, Idaho Stanley, Idaho and Glacier National Park in Montana became stops to experience along the way. However, our trip was anything but the proverbial shortest distance between two points. It was a 1,931-mile drive due north from our home in southeast Texas to Jasper, Alberta.
Two weeks became three, and before we knew it, the Rocky Mountain theme was extended into Canada, with Banff and Jasper National Parks becoming our ultimate goals.
MAKING THE JOURNEY BACK MOVIE
The summer of 1972 (wasn't there a movie by that title?) saw my family double-down and go all-in with the annual sabbatical. Despite our numerous visits, we could never get enough of our adventures in and around the Rockies, as we always came away with grand memories. We were budget travelers, so we camped a lot, ate at roadside park tables, cooked on Coleman stoves and drank from the always-at-the-ready thermos. So, it may come as no surprise to you that most summers of my youth featured two-week road trips and vacations to the Rocky Mountain states of our great American West. They mostly preferred states that were either bisected by the Rocky Mountains, touched by the Rocky Mountains, bordered the Rocky Mountains or had to be traversed to get to the Rocky Mountains. My parents, born in the early portion of the last century, liked to travel. That's hard to believe, but it's true.Ī little backstory at this point seems appropriate. In August of 1972, I started a travel journey that didn't conclude until a few weeks ago. As it turns out, it also pertains to travel. That applies to movies, books, games, careers and life itself. Everything needs a conclusion, a final period, a closure.
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