For all of my working life, I have been blessed with a fairly easy commute.
My very first job at Fairchild Semiconductor was from Petaluma to San Rafael for the graveyard shift. My cousin Carl dropped me off at 11:30 pm and by morning I had made friends with a woman who commuted from Petaluma and she had room in her Itty Bitty ancient Carmenghia. Thus I rode that away until I found a closer pick up. Second person I commuted with was Jo, she and her lover girl lived close enough that I walked to her house.
Eventually I got an apartment closer to work and while still on graveyard drove from Novato to work and my roommate rode along. Sue was hard on vehicles. They were always breaking down, or she was wrecking them. I learned how to change one of Sue's flat tires.
My fastest trip to work was with a girl friend. We had visited her gentleman friend in Sausolito. We had 15 minutes to make it before shift change. I was driving the 65 Barracuda then and hit 90 on the way. I may have accidentally straightened Kris's hair. And we did get to work by the skin of our teeth.
The next commute was after I moved to Emmett. After two years of a relatively benign commute to Boise State University, I worked in Emmett and drove less half a mile to work. That went on for eleven years.
I was recruited to work in Barrow in 1989 an by late December was commuting by bus or taxi less than 2 miles. One time when there was a taxi strike and my regular driver called to let me know, so I walked to work and prayed that any Polar bears were far far away.
Last commute was when we left Barrow and moved to Coquille. Four blocks south, up a couple hundred yards to CVH. Wheee!
:Made a couple dangerous/long trips One Christmas I decided to save money flying home and drove. Started off and the roads were clear. I slogged through Reno, it started snowing and I carefully followed the truck tire prints in the very fluffy snow.
I decided to get a room in Winnemucca. Next morning I slithered into the gas station next door to get chains put on. I was dressed fit to kill. Had my hair done, wore my new coat with fake fur collar over a new dress and took off. About 50 miles later one of the chains broke and some farmer stopped and helped wire the chains back together. He also told me that my chains were on upside down. I continued to slither further north, through Jackpot The snow had melted off shortly after that so I stopped to remove the chains. After a mile south of Burns Junction I hit a patch of black ice and slid of the road ever so gently. Some people stopped and helped get back on the road. We putt putting away. Went sailing by Rome, Oregon, got half way up the hill and car stopped, no worky. Yet another farmer stopped and took me and my wounded duck of a car back to Rome. I met an older couple who let me call home. Dad came and picked me up. Once all repairs had been accomplished and the visit was finished, he very kindly drove me back to Novato.
The longest road trip was with Judy Jones, her little girl and myself. We had borrowed her sister's big old Bonneville Pontiac for the trip to Judy's home in West Virginia. We had Triple A send us a map with the straightest route marked out and off we went. We drove south and it took us 33 hours with only one brief stop along side the freeway in Mississippi, big old semi's whipping us awake. We gave up trying to sleep and just kept on slogging. We drove to Gossip Bottom and visited with her folks. Very nice people.
One other memorable trip to West VA involved a flight. There was Judy, her daughter, her sister Betty and her daughter, at least one dog. We looked like the Gabor sisters on tour. The last leg of the flight was on a plane so small that human passengers went on one flight and the luggage came on the next. Betty had brought her wig mounted on a Styrofoam head. That took up one mid sized suitcase. But at least I got to see the fireflies. So pretty.
My very first job at Fairchild Semiconductor was from Petaluma to San Rafael for the graveyard shift. My cousin Carl dropped me off at 11:30 pm and by morning I had made friends with a woman who commuted from Petaluma and she had room in her Itty Bitty ancient Carmenghia. Thus I rode that away until I found a closer pick up. Second person I commuted with was Jo, she and her lover girl lived close enough that I walked to her house.
Eventually I got an apartment closer to work and while still on graveyard drove from Novato to work and my roommate rode along. Sue was hard on vehicles. They were always breaking down, or she was wrecking them. I learned how to change one of Sue's flat tires.
My fastest trip to work was with a girl friend. We had visited her gentleman friend in Sausolito. We had 15 minutes to make it before shift change. I was driving the 65 Barracuda then and hit 90 on the way. I may have accidentally straightened Kris's hair. And we did get to work by the skin of our teeth.
The next commute was after I moved to Emmett. After two years of a relatively benign commute to Boise State University, I worked in Emmett and drove less half a mile to work. That went on for eleven years.
I was recruited to work in Barrow in 1989 an by late December was commuting by bus or taxi less than 2 miles. One time when there was a taxi strike and my regular driver called to let me know, so I walked to work and prayed that any Polar bears were far far away.
Last commute was when we left Barrow and moved to Coquille. Four blocks south, up a couple hundred yards to CVH. Wheee!
:Made a couple dangerous/long trips One Christmas I decided to save money flying home and drove. Started off and the roads were clear. I slogged through Reno, it started snowing and I carefully followed the truck tire prints in the very fluffy snow.
I decided to get a room in Winnemucca. Next morning I slithered into the gas station next door to get chains put on. I was dressed fit to kill. Had my hair done, wore my new coat with fake fur collar over a new dress and took off. About 50 miles later one of the chains broke and some farmer stopped and helped wire the chains back together. He also told me that my chains were on upside down. I continued to slither further north, through Jackpot The snow had melted off shortly after that so I stopped to remove the chains. After a mile south of Burns Junction I hit a patch of black ice and slid of the road ever so gently. Some people stopped and helped get back on the road. We putt putting away. Went sailing by Rome, Oregon, got half way up the hill and car stopped, no worky. Yet another farmer stopped and took me and my wounded duck of a car back to Rome. I met an older couple who let me call home. Dad came and picked me up. Once all repairs had been accomplished and the visit was finished, he very kindly drove me back to Novato.
The longest road trip was with Judy Jones, her little girl and myself. We had borrowed her sister's big old Bonneville Pontiac for the trip to Judy's home in West Virginia. We had Triple A send us a map with the straightest route marked out and off we went. We drove south and it took us 33 hours with only one brief stop along side the freeway in Mississippi, big old semi's whipping us awake. We gave up trying to sleep and just kept on slogging. We drove to Gossip Bottom and visited with her folks. Very nice people.
One other memorable trip to West VA involved a flight. There was Judy, her daughter, her sister Betty and her daughter, at least one dog. We looked like the Gabor sisters on tour. The last leg of the flight was on a plane so small that human passengers went on one flight and the luggage came on the next. Betty had brought her wig mounted on a Styrofoam head. That took up one mid sized suitcase. But at least I got to see the fireflies. So pretty.
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