When I learned I would be released from active duty early, I considered taking a long way home. I thought about just driving up the West Coast from San Diego to Vancouver before turning east. Then I realized I would be adding about 1,400 miles to an already 3,000-mile journey. I might have done it had I a companion, but, after spending a total of less than a month at home in the past 34 months, I wanted to get home.
I spent most of this day 50 years ago doing a final checkout at the BOQ, packing up my car, and hitting the road for Las Vegas, first stop on the trip east.
Back in those days, Coors beer was only available in several states west of the Mississippi River. Thinking of my Coors-deprived buds back East, I stashed a case in my trunk.
These days, San Diego to Las Vegas is a straight shot on I-15. In 1971, State Route 15 started in Riverside County and was not a multi-lane road all the way to Las Vegas. I bet I got a map, but not a TripTik, from AAA to find my way home. I assume I took State Route 395 north out of San Diego. (Interestingly, that route would have brought me quite close by where I live now.) Connected to the 15 near San Bernardino and headed out through the Mojave Desert to Nevada.
At some point, I heard an odd noise, or series of sounds, from the trunk. I pulled over to check out what happened. The scent of warm beer wafted from the trunk as I opened it. The jostling and heat from the desert (it’s mid-July, remember) had caused several cans of Coors to explode. (I’m pretty sure I considered the effort to bring Coors east as noble but in vain, and dumped whatever was left when I got to Vegas.)
This was my first time visiting Las Vegas and, arriving at night, it was a spectacular sight. Not sure how I picked out a hotel, probably just by seeing a “vacancy” sign. It was, however, at least slightly above the quality of places I usually stayed on road trips. A bellboy accompanied me, bringing my bag up to the room. Awaiting his tip, he asked me if I wanted any “company” for the evening. I declined. Pretty sure I was tuckered out and spent my first night in Vegas in my hotel room. . . .alone and asleep.
Next morning, I drove around a little bit and took these photos of “the strip.”
