The Arizona Vacation

Ken’s Story
The highlight of the year 1972 was an automobile trip to Arizona. We traded for a Pontiac station wagon with the idea it would be suitable for sleeping. We had determined to drive straight through to my sister’s house and on the return trip we would camp out when the weather was good and use the car if it was raining - thus saving motel bills. Since the station wagon was considerably above our budget for transportation we also planned to use the car for the trip and then trade down when we got home.

Neither plan worked out.

When we found a suitable camp site, Janice always found a reason not to stop (snakes, etc.). Consequently, we stayed in motels every night out. And the year 1972 was the year gas prices began to soar and by the time we got home every car buyer was looking for compact units that didn’t guzzle gas. The trade-in value of the Pontiac was reduced measurably. It did turn out to be one of the best vehicles we ever owned.

Sam was a fanatic on map reading and routed the entire trip. This was before the advent of computer generated trip plans. Since he would turn 16 on the trip he was allowed to be one of the drivers with his student permit as long as an adult was in the front seat. I remember going through Albuquerque, New Mexico at 2:30 a.m. with me in the front passenger seat fast asleep. I woke up long enough to see traffic on both sides of us on the interstate. I asked Sam if everything was all right and he said it was no problem. I have difficulty finding my way in broad daylight on interstates. Not Sam. He had us so regimented we didn’t dare need to go to the bathroom at the wrong time. He scheduled himself, Janice, and I for about 200 miles of driving at a time with gas stops to coincide with a change of driver.

We made the 1,300 mile trip down to Sierra Vista in less than 30 hours, despite one major slow down. We had never driven in the mountains and the route took us a short distance through the White Mountains. The last 120 miles of narrow mountain roads took us four hours. When we got to Sierra Vista and told my sister, Marqueta, which way we came, she laughed and said, “Oh, no. You didn’t come over the White Mountains?”

There was one other problem with Sam’s schedule. He had us booked for a gas stop on the Zuni Indian reservation. The map showed a town of 2,500 so he figured it would be all right. He had overlooked, however, the fact of a time zone change and that Arizona was the one state in the union not to observe daylight savings time. We thought we would hit the gas station at 8 a.m. It was actually 6 a.m. Not only was nothing open, there was, in fact, no gas station, and not much of a town, either. Luckily, the gas tank held enough to get us to the next town off the reservation.

A stop at the Grand Canyon featured our return trip home.

Sam’s Version
I turned 16 the day we stopped at the Four Corners monument. Dad, being the law abiding citizen that he is, noted that my Learner’s Permit had expired. I sat in the back seat for the rest of trip, complaining about not getting to drive across the Great Divide.