• Originally published August 25, 2009 at 9:12 p.m., updated August 26, 2009 at 9:42 a.m.

• 

The Road to Mount Rainer

Georgia Rice Herreth, Bay City

After visiting relatives in San Diego, Calif. we planned to go to Mount Rainier National Park in Washington state, by way of scenic and exciting Highways 1 and 10, that hug the Pacific Coast of California.

It was more exciting than we expected. We were towing a pickup behind a motorhome. We had to drive over boards that the highway department had put down over washouts. They guided us over where we could see ocean below the boards. We also had to dodge rock slides and other oncoming vehicles on the narrow road. There were breathtaking views of the Pacific and the Redwoods, but a scary drive.

After crossing through Oregon and into Washington, we stopped to call my parents back in Bay City to see how everything was going. My dad, Jack Rice, wanted to know where we were. I told him and he said to turn around and go back to California.

I asked him what was wrong as he sounded excited. He said that Mount St. Helens had erupted and everyone had been advised to stay away.

We had not turned on our radio or bought a paper since we had left home, so we were shocked to hear the news.

When we arrived back home, dad said he could tell by my voice that I was not going to turn back and he was right.

When we got to Kelso the ash was so thick and fine. It had gotten into the RV and we could barely see each other. Of the few people who were outside, all had on masks. We put wet paper towels around our faces to keep from breathing the ash.

The town looked like an old black and white movie of a ghost town. Everything was covered with gray ash and there was hardly anyone out on the streets. I got out and scooped up some of the ash and put it in a plastic bag.

While I was out, I found a pay phone and called the sheriff's office to see if we could go up to the volcano. I was told, "We can't stop you lady, but you are crazy if you do."

I got back in the RV and told my husband, "Let's go." He said, "No, it's too dangerous."

He then turned around and started south on Highway 5. It started raining and I was having a fit to go back because I thought the rain would settle the ash. Besides, other cars were going north so I thought we could too.

Suddenly, my husband made a U-turn across the median and turned back north. We went back to Kelso, to Castle Rock, then turned on a very bad secondary road. Then I got really scared.

The rain had made the ash as slick as ice. Helicopters were roaring right on top of us. They were dropping down hooks to pull cars out of ditches. There seemed to be no way for us to turn around while still pulling our pickup. I jumped out and took a couple of pictures with a Polaroid camera. The roads were so hazardous that cars could not get any traction. One went right through a house at the bottom of a hill.

Just when we thought we were getting back to normal roads, we had to detour a giant sink-hole. Then, when eating in a small cafe, I got dizzy and had to ask for some water. I was told it was an earthquake tremor, that I wasn't sick.

We were beginning to think a black cloud was following us and maybe people would pay us to stay away.

Our trip lasted five weeks and we saw some beautiful sights in our wonderful national parks out west. But the side trip to Mount St. Helens was the part of our trip that we will never forget. And we never got to Mount Rainier.

Maybe it's best to vacation closer to home

Virginia Quinn, Edna

We were planning to go to Yellowstone Park in Wyoming, and some places in Colorado on the way.

My husband, a cowboy at heart, didn't want to travel far from home. We planned the trip anyway, and he didn't tell us he would go until the day before the trip. We spent the first night in Fort Stockton. This was a very peaceful, enjoyable ride.

I wanted the three kids and husband to see Carlsbad Caverns in New Mexico, because I saw it as a child. This actually is not good to start a trip with because my husband and I were very tired and sore later.

We didn't know Santa Fe was such a tourist town. There were tour buses everywhere. It was very hard to find a motel room so late in the evening.

The next day, my husband informed me I could see three things in Santa Fe, so decide what I really wanted to do. We saw the chapel with the unique staircase and the oldest house, the others I can't remember. Did I get to cross the street where the Indians were selling their handmade jewelry and wares? No.

We stopped in Taos, and I spent the whole time reading history in the historical house of Kit Carson. We didn't get to look at all the other shops on the street. Everyone loved the Chama Valley and seeing snow in June.

We had heard so much about the train ride from Durango, Colo. to Silverton, we wanted to go on the ride. But my husband said a flat no, he wasn't riding the train.

My husband drove us to Silverton. Our car had Edna, Tx on the license plates. Quite a few families from Edna spent every summer in Silverton. A boy in my daughter's high school class ran out in the street to greet us when he saw the license plate.

The kids and I went through the fake mine tour. My husband didn't want to go but when we came out, he was jolly happy talking to a beautiful blonde and was buying souvenirs from her.

One of the families from Edna was my husband's high school football coach, who was a dear friend. The coach and his wife invited us to have sandwiches for supper with them. To my shock, my husband told him we weren't spending the night there.

Later my husband told me he felt "hemmed in" and he would not spend the night in that place. I loved Silverton and I was mad. He's a flat-lander who wants to see what's around the corner.

After some shopping in Silverton, we drove to Ouray. We drove past historical markers, my husband gripping the steering wheel and looking straight ahead, acted like he didn't even see them. His stomach was hurting (nerves) and the brakes, gears or something were smelling.

We were so relieved to get to Ouray, we all ate pie and ice cream.

Finally we arrived as Montrose to spend the night in a motel. My first cousin lives there with her husband, who is from Colorado, and their boys. We had a wonderful visit with them and they wanted us to go the next day up the mountains for a picnic, but Husband said we just couldn't do that. I didn't get to see the Indian Museum in Montrose that my grandmother had told me about enjoying.

By this time, we all decided to forget Wyoming and start on our way home. The next stopping place was Gunnison. I loved the cool air and you could fish, then the cafe would cook the fish for you. No one wanted to get out of the car, much less go fishing. Husband and I got out to eat while the kids stayed in the car.

We saw signs about The Royal Gorge, so I wanted to see this place. We took the first road to the Gorge, which turned out to be the backside of the park. The gatekeepers, who were selling tickets, said because it was about closing time we would have to cross the bridge to get out.

Husband paid the money then I told him that I wanted to see the Gorge, not cross the thing. Our youngest son is crying, he's scared, so am I. The daughter is crying because in May she survived a tragic wreck in which her boyfriend was killed.

Husband gets the money back and drives down the mountain like a maniac. He tells me to look for a motel in town. I told him, "No, I don't ever in my life want to see another sign with Royal Gorge on it."

As the car is headed south, and we are getting closer to Texas, my husband is relaxed and so happy.

The kids wanted to spend time in New Braunfels to tube the river. Husband, who never shows his snow white, Irish legs anywhere close to home, puts on cut-off jeans.

Husband tubes the river with a cold can in his hand and a big smile on his face. They are happy. We spent the rest of our vacation right there in New Braunfels, Texas.

Beauty and the darkness of Hawaii

Carolyn, Faltysek, Inez

It had to have been one of the best and worst vacations at the same time. In October 2008, my husband, Tim, my daughter, Kelly, my son Lennert, my daughter-in-law Amanda, her parents, Joe and Julia Sarlls, and her two brothers, Mark and Joey, took a week-long trip to Hawaii.

Amanda rented a house on the west side of the island of Oahu.

The house was beautiful. The front yard had a view of the mountains and the backyard was the beach. It was literally 50-feet from the ocean.

We immediately checked out the beach. The rest of the week was spent sightseeing.

The highlight of the trip was the visit to Pearl Harbor. What an awesome sight.

You start out with a self-guided tour around the museum, watch a film on the bombing of Pearl Harbor, then ride a ferry to the actual memorial. You can't describe the feelings you get when you are on the memorial. You are allowed 15 minutes before the ferry leaves. It was a very quiet ride back to the museum. Amanda got her picture taken with a survivor of Pearl Harbor.

What a wonderful vacation we were having.

Then the last day came. We had to be out of the beach by 10 a.m. Once we got everything loaded and checked out, we decided to go to the Honolulu Aquarium. Our flight did not leave until 6 p.m., so we had several hours left to sight see.

Once in downtown Honolulu, Tim and I decided not to go to the aquarium. We decided to walk Waikiki Beach, then go shopping. We spent two to three hours sightseeing and shopping, then headed back to the car to leave for the airport.

This is when the worst part of the vacation started. Tim opened the trunk to put up our souvenirs and found the trunk almost empty. Someone had stolen my purse, suitcase, laptop, iPod, video camera and Tim's sleep apnea machine. The only thing left was Tim's suitcase.

Luckily, Tim had my drivers license, so I could get my plane ticket home. By the time we got on the plane, I had a migraine headache and was sick the whole flight.

So it was the best and worst vacation all in one. In spite of all of this, I am ready to go back to Hawaii in a heartbeat.

Her vacation was helping people

A.V. Sokol, Hallettsville

Well I wish I could talk about my vacation. Well I can't. Why? Never had one.

But I was always happy for the ones that had one.

Here is why I never had one. My husband was bedridden for 23 years. I'd go to work so bills could be paid.

After his passing, I got a job, but not for long. When my mama needed care, her wish was not to be put in a nursing home. So her wishes were carried out.

I never did put myself first and I still don't. I never was a material-minded person. It was so uplifting to help a needy person.

As the saying goes, lay your treasures in Heaven ... where earthly material things can be taken away from you in a twinkle of God's eye.

Yes, at peace I live and soon I'll be 85 years young. Yes, memories are there.

Birds don't make good travel companions

Donna Schultheiss

It was 1984. We had just purchased a new Suburban - finally we had a three-seater. That summer we set off for an inaugural driving vacation in the Rockies with our two young daughters, ages 8 and 10.

It was a beautiful morning, our windows were wide open to breathe in that cool mountain air.

Rounding a curve we heard a little popping sound near the driver's window.

I scrutinized the interior for a mountain-sized bug but I didn't see anything, except for a lone feather. I was in the second seat with Becky. Looking farther, I peeked over into the back seat. On the floor was a dead bird. With tissue I gently picked up the tiny lifeless body.

Even worse, he'd been gutted. It took a few seconds to realize his guts were all over us, everyone screamed.

The screams continued as we found each new bit of bird. The trail started on the driver's shoulder, continued through Becky's hair, and onto her neck and shirt. Bird bits were on the ceiling and managed to splatter across the car onto Jessica and I. The screams erupted intermittently until we reached the bottom of the mountain and could pick up and clean every birdie bit.

The rest of the trip the window remained up and no one sat in the back seat. In fact, no one sat in the back seat for about a year.

My husband has recently passed on, that story always made him chuckle.

Trains, planes, and a cruise ship

Robert Brecount, Victoria

Our greatest adventure began on the island of Murano, near Venice, Italy, when we went hunting for a place to sit. That led us out of sight of the boat dock and all the other tourists and into a small park where there were benches under shade trees. By the time we were rested and began waiting at the dock the boat had already come and gone without us.

Thus began the great boat chase.

We had to learn about public transportation - big fast boats - to get back to Venice just in time to hear the cruise ship sound its great horn saying "Goodbye, Venice," and steam off without us.

"The only way we're going to catch that ship is to get ahead of it and that means we fly, and there sure is no airport here," I said. "Now we just have to figure out how to get to the airport at Messina. An alternate place was Reggio De Calabria, just a ferry ride away so we bought tickets for Reggio - which required charm and pleading and a driver's license from the great state of Texas in lieu of a passport - and had to wait another sleepless 12 hours for the once-a-day flight at noon the next day.

The airline booth attendant called a cop - which required charm and pleading and a driver's license from the great state of Texas in lieu of a passport - before we were issued a boarding pass.

Messina, Sicily was just a bus ride on a ferry away. Yes, one can ride from Italy to Sicily on a bus, or on a train we saw later.

By earnest wandering along the waterfront, we found a woman who pointed out a nice hotel just around the corner and from that to a travel agent 'just around the corner' and from him we learned of a nice cafe 'just around the corner' and the very best news of all, that the cruise ship should make its only stop at Messina for the whole year - the very next morning.

The small hotel 'just around the corner' turned out to be a world-class place, all marble and high ceilings and fancy wall covering - which required charm and pleading and a driver's license from the great state of Texas in lieu of a passport - before we got to enjoy hot water, clean sheets on soft beds and breakfast before we sauntered proudly with few blocks down to where the tall cruise ship lay gleaming in the bright morning sun and presented our ship's cards.

Tour of Aruba almost didn't happen

Mary Ann Jarisch, Victoria

August 1984 I was going to my travel agent to pick up my documents for Aruba. On arrival, no documents, the tour had been canceled, and the tour company did not inform our travel agent. Tour company had our money.

They would get us another tour. Plans on first tour were from Houston to Aruba. Now we had to leave Houston to Dallas. All documents will be at the airport, meet with tour agent. Agent gave us flight transportation only. My husband said we might have to sleep on the beach.

Some kind lady and her two daughters said we could sleep on the floor until we got a room.

Tour agent said to pay everything by credit card and we would be reimbursed. We get to Aruba, everyone gets on the tour bus, and then we have to take a cab. We arrive at the hotel and yes they would have a room. After about a three-hour wait, we got a room. We rented a car, and off we went sightseeing. The good thing about a bad start was a side trip to Curacoa.

What's for lunch?

James A. McClane, Karnes City

In the late spring, Karnes City Explorer Scouts: Cal Day, Wes Stout, Jonathan Schultz, Steve Crews, Bob Ruchman, Lyn Luthringer, Jerry and Jim Smolish with advisor Pat Lyssy and I took a trip to the coast and the Aransas National Wildlife Refuge to camp and do some fishing and floundering.

They had rented a cabin that had cooking facilities and the food committee had brought some groceries. They had purchased apple juice, wieners and buns, cinnamon rolls along with other foods.

After lunch the next day, the cook said we needed to make a food run because our groceries were getting low. So a food committee went into the local H-E-B for supplies.

We eagerly awaited their return and several speculated on the content of what delights awaited us. Someone said pork chops, or stew meat and all the trimmings, or another explorer said a nice roast with onion, potatoes and carrots - each scout is calling for their favorite food.

In a few hours, the committee returned and all gather around as eager hungry scouts gather around as the food committee unloaded the sacks of cinnamon rolls, wieners and buns and apple juice. The scouts gave the food committee a very hard time as only friends can.

Forget the fishing

James A. McClane, Karnes City

Several years ago about 1970, several Explorer Scouts from Karnes City Post 495 enjoyed a trip to the Big Bend. They each had fishing gear and were looking forward to catching some fish. The first evening we camped outside Del Rio in the lodge of a lake. The water was crystal clean and they could see some small fish that ignored the bait.

The next day we head into the eastern edge of the park and Big Bend.

As we got closer, we encountered some rain and water came over the road in the low spots. The rained stacked as we drove to the campground.

The Rio Grande was rushing and had lots of runoff. Fishing gear was brought out and they cast out into the fast moving water, but no success.

The rain broke in the morning as the sun shone bright. After breakfast, we toured the several scenic spots of the Big Bend. All the fishing places were taken, but the Rio Grande was running too swift. The rain further west had caused the river to get up and run swift.

We enjoyed the drive along the river through the west end of Big Bend Park and to Presidio and up to Marfa. The drive along the river was very scenic.

The next morning after breakfast, we headed back to Del Rio. The boys talked about not really getting to fish and we wondered what place would be a possible location we might find for fishing. As we headed north I remembered Garner State Park and the nice shaded riverbanks with the possibility of some good fishing.

The boys got their fishing spirits up and were real excited as we drove into the campgrounds. I told them they had to set up tents before going to the river. They griped some but soon had tents and campsite all squared away. Fishing tackle and rods all headed to the water. They were back in five minutes - I asked "What, I thought you boys wanted to fish?" They said we did, but there was girls in neat bathing suits down there. 'We got to put our fishing gear up and get into our swimsuits and get back down there quick.' I laughed as nature had take hold of these 16-year-old scouts. There was no more talk of fishing.

European Tour

Laddie and Frances Kolacny, Ganado

In 1988, we decided to take my cousin and her husband on a trip to Switzerland.

We had to go to the American Embassy, which gave us permission to travel. We went to the Czech Republic and into Austria., but there were no places to sleep. So we had to stay in a park and sleep in the car because there were no vacancies at the hotels.

We went through Austria and the little country of Lichtenstein, which is no bigger than Wharton County. When they have a wedding there, everybody is invited for the wedding so we were lucky. They had music and gave us a plate to eat.

After that, we went to Switzerland. There was snow and we went through lots of tunnels. We drove all through Switzerland.

When we started back we went to Munich, Germany. It was about 17 miles to the concentration camp of Dachau. I was in a group that liberated the camp on April 29, 1945 when I was in the service. I told the driver to go by the concentration camp. He would not drive the highway and said he saw plenty of that but my wife, Frances, and I wanted to see it.

When we got to Frankfurt, Germany, we bought them a TV, it was $200. We called her the other day and she said it's 20 years old. I hope it works 20 more.

Making history at Munich Olympics

Rick Marik, El Campo

While stationed in Germany with the first armored division in 1972, two friends and I saved up our leave for the entire year and planned to go to the Olympics in Munich in September.

The time finally arrived and we drove to Munich in a 1965 Opel Kadet car, which had been passed on and on by guys who had already rotated back to the States.

We spent our first day at the Olympic village just walking around and taking in all of the sights. It was unreal just being there amongst the people from around the world. That night we drove to a camp ground to spend the night. The next morning we cleaned up and were excited about watching some of the events. We got within two miles of the Olympic site and were turned around by the police and the German army.

We had heard that something bad had happened the night before in the village and that no one was allowed to enter. Little did we know that Arab terrorists had infiltrated the Olympic village and killed several members of the Israeli Olympic team.

We decided that since we could not see the Olympics, we would just start driving south. We worked our way through Austria, Switzerland and then Venice, Italy with the intention of making it as far as Rome before turning back north and then back to our base in Germany.

Our luck ran out in Florence, Italy in another campground. We loaded our car in the morning, got in, turned the key and the engine virtually blew up.

While the car was on fire, we hurriedly tried to unload everything from inside and on the roof.

We still had two days left to get back to Germany, so we boarded a train and headed north. At the German border, we were greeted by German police holding machine guns along with growling, snapping police dogs. We and our camping equipment were thoroughly searched and finally learned the entire American Army was on full alert and that everyone had been ordered back to their duty stations.

We made it back to first armored division headquarters. It was then that we heard about all of the hostages being killed at the Munich airport by the Arab terrorists. We were part of history and did not know it.

Our reward for making it back in one piece? Guard duty for the rest of the week.

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