Going To the Mountains...A Journey

When we lived in Delano in the late fifties, our idea of family fun was to travel to the nearby mountains (or fairly far away mountains sometimes) and just look at the lovely world the Lord made. We often visited the mountains near Visalia, which are situated quite a way from Delano. In those days, even though cars didn't get the good gas mileage they do today, it still seemed an inexpensive outing for our big family.

The boys wanted the windows down, but I didn't, because I didn't want my hair blown out of shape. In those days girls shampooed their hair once a week (bending over the kitchen sink, because no one I knew had a "shower"). It was a big deal to put in all the brush rollers to get the curls just right. Those old rollers were bad enough just to wear around for the two or three hours it took for the hair to dry, but if you had to leave them in overnight and sleep on those prickly things, you wouldn't wake up in a mood to go for a nice ride and lose all the nice, curly effect. So that was the first disagreement with my brothers, unless it was winter. No one minded the windows being up in winter, but in summer, with no air conditioning, it was stifling in the car. The boys usually won.

We loved the huge, beautiful trees up in the mountains. Also there were beautiful rivers and streams cascading down the mountains. We would stop and all get out, and take pictures of the trees with different family members standing in front so you could see by comparison how huge those redwoods were.

The winding roads, though, were another matter. I would get sick in the back. I remember once we rode into the mountains with some visiting Ballentine cousins in their station wagon, and I had to ride in the way-back. I emptied my tummy out the way-back window on the way down the hill. It ruined the trip for everyone. After that, if mountains and curvy roads were in the plan, I got to ride in front so I wouldn't be car-sick.

One year Ray and I went to Youth Camp up in those mountains east of Visalia, Camp Peaceful Pines. It was so beautiful, and I loved sleeping in a top bunk and having walks with a whole troop of kids my age, having classes for teens, attending "church" where most everyone was young, just a few adults to keep order and teach lessons and serve as counselors. It was exciting and fun and I loved every minute of it.

And I didn't even get sick coming home down the mountain...