1938 Project Wrap-up
I have not posted any update for a few weeks, choosing instead to give my brain a rest after the intensity of the 1938 Project trip and all that it entailed. December and January have been blissfully absent of any intensity at all in my personal life, marked mostly by nesting activities and social connections as I have been reestablishing some semblance of a daily routine and hunkering down for the winter (as I write this it is 5 degrees outside and will fall below 0 tonight - that’s Fahrenheit, not Celsius). I have spent quality time with treasured friends and family I had not seen in months, and as I go about my days various thoughts and ideas about potential future endeavors swirl around my head in a chaotic word-jumble cloud that travels with me wherever I go.
Before I begin sorting through the mental chaos that will eventually become my pathway into the future, I feel a need to bring closure to the 1938 Project now that I am home and can reflect on the experience. Was it everything I had hoped? What did I learn about myself? How did the trip change me? Would I do it again? What would I do differently? Etc. etc.
Trip Stats
I thought it might be fun and interesting to begin by comparing various data points and stats from the trip in 1938 and my trip in 2023. After looking at all the information from both trips and crunching the numbers as best I could to achieve a fair comparison and make some observations, here is what I came up with:
Total Miles Travelled
1938: 9,400
2023: 9,500
Days Away From Home
1938: 31 (entire month of March)
2023: 64 (entire months of October and November, returned home December 3)
Average Fuel Cost Per Gallon of Gas
1938: $.23 per gallon ($4.90 per gallon in 2023 dollars, adjusted for inflation)
2023: $3.56
Total Cost of Gas
1938: $139.73 ($2,982 in 2023 dollars)
2023: $2,076.50
Average Miles Per Gallon of Fuel
1938: 16 (1938 Series F Oldsmobile 4-door touring sedan, fully loaded with 5 adults and their luggage)
2023: 16 (2022 Dodge Ram Promaster 1500 high-top cargo van camper fully loaded with 1 adult, 1 65 pound dog and lots of equipment and “stuff” either built in or stored)
States Travelled
1938: 17 (Ohio, Kentucky, Tennessee, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, California, Oklahoma, Missouri, Illinois, Indiana, Michigan, New York, Pennsylvania)
2023: 15 (same states, but excluding New York and Pennsylvania since I started from Ann Arbor, Michigan and not Fredonia, New York)
Foreign Countries Visited
1938: 2 (Mexico on the way out, and Canada on the way back)
2023: 0
Lodging
1938: $.75 per night per person average ($16 per night in 2023 dollars) (mostly motor courts and motels; one or more of the group may have stayed with relatives here and there, which brings the per night average down)
2023: $26.00 average per night (combination of camping, hotel/airbnb, boondocking, and free stays with friends/relatives)
Food
1938: $.57 per day average per person ($12 per day average per person in 2023 dollars)
2023: $25 per day average (yikes!! really??)
Some Observations
These travellers were not hurting for money, even with the effects of the Great Depression still raging in most parts of the country. My grandfather Fred brought $400 in travelers’ checks with him to cover gas, car maintenance, food and lodging expenses for the five travelers. This would have been a little over $8,500.00 in today’s dollars. He kept meticulous records so that each person could pay him back and he marked his various notes and calculations “pd” once he received the payment. During the trip Fred took good care of “honey girl,” as they called the car, and had her washed four times and serviced three times: twice for an oil change and once for a full tune-up before the return trip. His calculations when planning the trip were pretty spot on because he still had $40 ($854 in 2023 dollars) when they arrived back in Fredonia.
Fred kept a ledger like this for every member of the group.
In looking at the final tallies of “eats” and “beds” there is variability among the five travellers, which isn’t surprising.
Fred spent the most on food and Bertie the least. Fred and Lucille’s room costs in Bakersfield, where they stayed two weeks, were significantly higher than the others for the same period. Did they rent a luxury suite perhaps? It appears that Frank, the patriarch, stayed with his daughter Jenny during those two weeks, and that Flo and Bert may have shared the cost of a small rented room and taken turns staying at their sister Jenny’s home. Fred, Lucille and Bertie paid extra to have access to a pool and other amenities during their stay (this expense was listed as $3.00, which would have been about $60 over and above the room cost for the two weeks). Other “extras” included on Fred’s expense sheet were guided tours of El Paso which included Old Mexico, and Hollywood. Those activities each cost a little over $20 per person (in 2023 dollars), and all five travellers participated.
Judging from the numerous receipts, brochures and hand-written notes about gifts for specific people back home, each traveler no doubt brought their own discretionary spending money for various “extras” that are not fully documented in the scrapbook. For example, there is a brochure for a zoo in Chicago that I’m quite sure they visited on their way home but there are no receipts or notes in the ledger showing what that cost was. Same for Bellingrath Gardens in Alabama, Santa Catalina Island in California, and money they spent at the Santa Anita racetrack in California.
It’s interesting to me that I only drove an extra 100 miles over my 1938 counterparts, despite being out a full month longer than they were. I guess it just goes to show how packed their itinerary was with sightseeing in a very short time period. It could also be that they were forced to rack up miles on the curvy, smaller roads much more than I was. I did utilize the superhighways where it made sense for me to do so, despite my intention to stay off of them as much as possible. Also, even when I was on the smaller roads, in many places they were not nearly as small or curvy as they were in 1938, having been widened and straightened over the years.
“Everyone Bug Dad” - clear evidence that Fred and his siblings found ways to have fun on the long, boring stretches of road.
The 1938 group did not have the luxury and convenience of today’s highways and byways, and their driving days were typically much longer than mine were.
On the topic of spending money, I too made numerous (too many!) discretionary purchases of gifts, souvenirs and other sight-seeing-related activities that added to the total cost of my trip. Like my relatives, I’ll just pocket that information and not reveal how much went to frivolous purchases that, nevertheless, gave me great joy in the moment (especially those items I bought for others) and treasured memories after I returned home. No regrets even if I stressed my bank account a little…
Reflecting Back
Here are some of my final thoughts and take-aways from the trip, in no particular order:
Would I do it again?
Most certainly!!! It really was everything I had hoped for and more. I’m glad that I had my grandfather’s scrapbook and maps to guide me on this first big trip of my retirement and camper life, and I loved weaving the family history into my thoughts and writings as I journeyed across the country. I stuck to the 1938 route as much as possible and stayed off the big roads as much as possible. I tried to be true to the experience of my relatives in 1938 and had great fun soaking in the same landscapes they did, especially when I knew they saw exactly what I was also seeing. All those months I spent before the trip planning my overnights and destinations paid off, and definitely reduced my stress level during the trip.
Would I do anything differently?
I wouldn’t change much about this particular trip, which had a very specific purpose. I realized while on the trip and again after I got home that I could have done more research about some of the places my relatives visited. The scrapbook itself was too big and fragile to take with me so I didn’t have an easy way of paging through it whenever I wanted. I did have most of the pages electronically, but accessibility was somewhat limited and cumbersome because of my small laptop screen. When I looked at the actual scrapbook after I got home, I realized that I drove right past some missed opportunities.
Sometimes Google led me to some tightish spots where I felt like I was driving on the edge of the world.
Maybe less reliance on Google gps and more reliance on paper maps next time…
Generally, everything about the trip flowed pretty well once I got on the road. I made choices about how and where I wanted to linger longer or deviate from the 1938 path to honor my personal whims and the “me” portions of the trip. I think I had a good balance of paid campsites, hotels/airbnbs, boondocking “on the fly” and visiting friends and relatives. Nelly Bly served me well. I might try to manage meals better on the next trip. My average per day cost of meals seems high, and I think I could do better with a bit more thought and planning. I have a better sense now of the pros and cons and effort required to prep and cook meals while on the road, and the preferences on a given day depend on what the activities and driving entailed.
But other than that there is nothing major that pops out when I ask myself this question.
What was it like to get home after all that time on the road?
It was wonderful! I arrived home after dark on a gloomy, rainy, cold, clammy evening to find my cozy house nice and warm, a fire in the fireplace, and Conrad’s famous lasagna and pumpkin pie waiting for me. My homecoming couldn’t have been more perfect. In addition to Conrad, his dog Sophie and my cat Casper also seemed happy to see me.
Over the next two days I completely unloaded the camper and cleaned it out as best I could, then took it to my friends at Drifter Vans for winterizing (i.e. blowing all the water lines out so that nothing bursts over the winter). There were a couple of other minor repairs they were able to do on the spot and then I drove the van to the storage facility where it will sit until spring.
Sadie settled right back into her daily routines, and seemed very happy to have her favorite bed back.
Sadie, of course, was ecstatic to arrive home and showered Conrad with sloppy kisses while racing around the house excitedly. She was such a trooper the whole time we were away, and while she could still be a bit unpredictable (i.e. reactive) when she perceived a threat to me or an invasion of the camper (she did not like having anyone who was not family poking their head inside the cabin), she really did remarkably well the entire time. I’m really proud of her and she was great company.
A week after I got home it was hard to imagine that I had even been gone, except for all the newly purchased items that were lying all over the place.
What was my favorite place that I visited?
Many people have asked me this question, and I still don’t have a clear answer. Everywhere I went was fascinating, beautiful and worth visiting, though often for very different reasons. Also, it is impossible to separate the place from the experience I had while there. Each was unique and wonderful on its own terms and I have no need or desire to stack them up side by side to compare or rank them.
Did I like some locations better than others? Sure, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t go there again. Our country is so unique and beautiful and interesting that even in places where I had clear preconceptions going in or disappointing experiences after arriving, I was able to embrace and make the best of what that city or region or state had to offer. For example, I really disliked the scenery as I drove through big parts of Texas where the flat landscape was (in my opinion) littered with nothing but ugly big oil refineries, oil storage facilities, pumps and other industrial plants connected to the oil industry. That said, I had never seen anything like it before and was fascinated by the thought of all the money that goes into the oil production industry, the number of jobs it must provide, and the sheer scale of the operations. Driving through this area helped me understand better why there is so much resistance by states and corporations to the goal of weaning ourselves away from the dependency on fossil fuels. And despite the unsightly nature of being surrounded by all that oil and machinery, I still really enjoyed the long, straight highways that went on for hours and hours of driving (I know, others can’t stand that aspect of driving through Texas). This even in the high traffic areas while my little van was sandwiched between huge commercial trucks and enormous semi tractor-trailers on their high-speed long haul journeys through the state.
I did not truly appreciate the full extent of homelessness in America until I drove through the streets and neighborhoods of our larger cities. The sheer number of unhoused people across the country is mind boggling, as is our collective willingness to let it continue.
I guess it’s safe to say that for everything I may not have liked or appreciated about a particular area I visited, the natural beauty, history (even where that history is tarnished or fraught), and people I met provided new insights, meaning and richness to every experience and place.
What was my favorite experience on the trip?
I had many memorable experiences, so in a sense my answer is similar to the one above. From horseback riding with my sister, to mastering the art of climbing mountains in the van, to visiting numerous remote locations, to the sheer delight of discovering a new (for me) part of the country I had no idea even existed, to the many people whose acquaintance I made (and the fun of giving away my bookmarks), to the wonderful extended time I spent exploring California and New Mexico, to sharing the holiday table with my brother and friends at Thanksgiving, to the moments of blissful solitude on long driving days, each was wonderful in its own right and became my “favorite” at one point or another.
There is one experience, however, that rises above the rest and holds more meaning and significance for me than any of the others. It was just a few days before I left on the trip that I decided to bring some of my late husband’s ashes with me. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with them, but I had some vague notion that I might find places to sprinkle them in the states I visited.
As it turned out, the simple act of answering the “pull” I felt in certain places along my trail became perhaps the most memorable aspect of the trip. When I felt that “pull” I knew I was in a place of significance and I responded by finding what I thought to be an appropriate place to leave a part of Jay behind. Some of the places were locations where we had been together. Some were places where he had lived or visited without me. Some were places neither of us had visited but that held some significance to who Jay was as a person.
This is the Auglaize River in Wapakoneta, Ohio
I began the ritual in Wapakoneta, Ohio where Jay’s family lived during his early years in grade school. My son Conrad was with me that first day of the trip, which added to the significance of the experience.
The last place I sprinkled ashes was on the graves of his grandparents and great grandparents in St. Charles, Missouri. His Aunt Toosie and cousin Kim were with me for that one which, again, enhanced the experience of the occasion and seemed a fitting bookend to the first day.
In between those two locations were numerous others spread across the states I visited. They were mostly solitary events witnessed by no one other than myself. Each act of spreading ashes was, for me, a sacred moment of connection and remembrance. Jay’s presence with me during the entire trip was palpable always, but especially in those special moments. I had a journal with me where I wrote a short little note or poem (I am not much of a poet) about the significance of each location and the reason it felt important to leave a piece of him there. I also photographed each place. I think he would approve of my choices and I am so glad he was with me in such a tangible way on this trip. Knowing he was taking the journey with me from beginning to end gave me peace. I never felt truly alone.
I can’t explain the experience further other than to say that it became a very important part of my spiritual experience on the trip that I had not anticipated or planned.
What did I learn on this trip?
Several takeaways come to mind as I think back on the overall experience of this trip:
I learned that I can manage quite well on my own while on the move for weeks at a time, even when I’m feeling under the weather (in the middle of the trip I ran a low grade fever for about 10 days). My camper is the perfect size for me and I had everything I needed. The Ram Promaster is a workhorse vehicle that can take me up and down narrow mountain roads and over pretty rough terrain (it is not four wheel drive so I did avoid driving in mud and sand). Fortunately, I side-stepped the test of a true crisis like serious illness, accident or breakdown, but I have more confidence now than I did at the beginning that I could figure out how to solve or avoid most problems that might arise.
I learned that I have no desire at this time in my life to be a full-time van camper. The two months I was on the road were spectacular but I was also very happy to return to my home base in Ann Arbor. I like being able to access the best of both worlds, and am grateful that I can afford to make that choice.
I learned that I may be ready to break free of the constraints put on me by my incessant need to plan every detail before I take to the road. On my next big trip (more than 30 days) I may take off without much of a plan other than heading in a general direction. I now have confidence in my ability to find a place to stopover, and confidence in my ability to manage the needs of my camper (fuel, water, electricity, battery life, etc). A no-agenda trip would be totally different than the one I just finished, and will really test the limits of my discomfort with ambiguity and uncertainty.
I learned that I have a love and genuine regard for this great country of ours, even with all of its flaws (mostly of our own making). There is much about it to appreciate and enjoy that can only be experienced by getting up close and personal. Small roads, small towns, big city streets and neighborhoods, rural life, local history, all have their allure for me. I was left wanting more, which is a good thing and will help shape future travels.
I learned that I can spend days alone on the road without getting lonely. I don’t mind going into a restaurant or bar by myself anymore. I enjoy my solitude at the campsite and savor the long hours I spend in my van while driving. I enjoy the feeling of being the only vehicle on a stretch of roadway, surrounded by interesting landscapes that belong to the communities I pass through or that are hidden behind the mountains or beyond the forests. I love stopping in different places and exploring the local scenery, history and culture. There is a contentedness to this lifestyle that was unknown to me until I lived it, and I understand better why others are attracted to it full-time.
If I do start feeling the tug of loneliness, I learned that I can connect with people fairly easily and pretty much wherever I am. For me a brief, superficial conversation over a beer or in a shop can provide just enough of a human touch that I know I am not alone in the world. A friendly face and welcoming smile from someone you don’t know has a way of lifting one’s spirit and brightening the day no matter what else is going on. I try to be that person for others when I can, but it’s also nice being on the receiving end.
Being a solo traveler is about balancing the joys of traveling alone with the joys of human connection. It is possible to have both.
What’s next for me?
I don’t have any immediate plans for travel and I haven’t decided where my next long trip will take me. I’m hoping to take some short trips in the spring and my camping buddy Kim and I are beginning to scout music festivals we might want to attend.
Besides travel, I am also considering other activities and goals for the year. Relating to the continuing saga of my Larson relatives, I’m trying to decide whether and how I might want to write up the family history and my 1938 Project trip in a more permanent, thoughtful way (i.e. a book). I’m exploring possible central themes for such a book and playing around with how it might be written and organized in a way that would be relevant and interesting to a broad audience. Not sure yet how that will all unfold.
I plan to keep up this blog and would like to take the history of the Larson family forward a bit to cover the time period after they returned from California and when my mother was growing up in the 1940’s and 50’s. We’ll see where my thoughts and research take me once I get back into the family research. There are also many stories from the paternal side of my family, and I’m just beginning to explore some of the legacy left by Jay’s family, which is especially relevant to my son Conrad. Lots of family breadcrumbs yet to discover!
Thanks for hanging with me through the close of this phase of the blog and the 1938 Project. Stay tuned for future project reports and who knows what else!!!
