Americans, they say, have always loved driving vacations. When my parents planned a trip, it was always to go north from our southern situated home. And as they planned, their concern was only for distance and time. We never knew exactly where we would sleep en route and we just took our chances. And Mom packed picnic fare “just in case”, with her famous hard boiled eggs, oranges, and yummy sandwiches and cookies for dessert.
Dad would spread out his maps on the kitchen table and mark off how many miles he thought we should go before watching for a place to spend the night. “Keep your eyes open now,” he would say, “let’s find a good place to stop!” Computers, cell phones, in-car t.v.’s and GPS systems were non-existent and in fact, never heard of and if there were any chain motels, they must have been few and far between because we never even thought to stay there or to book anything in advance.
When my brother, Steve, and I became cranky and tired of the eternal hum of the engine and being hot and sticky from riding in a car with no air-conditioning, or hungry and thirsty and eager to run and explore, our parents knew it was time to look for a tourist court/camp/cottage where we could rest, play, dine and hopefully, get a good night’s sleep. Dad liked to get started at 4AM, so we all had to go to bed very early!
Yesterday, my husband and I drove on U.S. Route 11, now a country road that was once a main north-south corridor and even now goes all the way from Louisiana to New York. Once a bustling, commercial thoroughfare with an abundance of shops, restaurants, gas stations and tourist camps, it has long since been replaced by a high-speed Interstate Highway System. But like a Ghost Road, the highway holds secrets of the past, and if you take the time to look left or right on this ancient byway, you will see numerous remnants of another era.
Every time we take this route, I marvel at the old tourist courts along the way. They are the kind where my family used to stay when I was little. There it is again – the big main house where the owners lived and their little cabin-offspring spread out and waiting for occupancy. Oh, how they represented mystery and adventure!
“What about stopping there?” “How about there?” my brother and I would cry. “That place looks great!” We never did stay at the one that looked like a big teepee with little teepees around it. But, eventually, Dad would pull in somewhere and we would eagerly inspect our overnight home. I remember once we spent the night at a pine paneled little place with squeaky beds and linoleum flooring. That evening my little brother and I stepped out the door of our private oasis to a world of fireflies and hundreds of tiny leaping frogs! How exciting can you get?
Those old travelers’ courts were still in evidence as my husband and I drove along our Ghost Road. Some are vacantly hollow and crumbling like abandoned bee hives. Others, though painfully small, seem to be occupied by young families. There are many lovely homes along the way and parts of the old road have been designated a Virginia Scenic Byway. But, every now and then a “Diner” sign reminds me that we might have stopped there once long ago. Or look, there is an idle, rusty gas pump that has ceased fueling anything but my imagination. Did we have a meal at that diner? Did my Dad stop here for gasoline? Did we stay in those cabins?
Let’s go for a ride!
Country Tip for City Dudes:
When traveling Virginia Scenic Byways, look left and then right for the crumbling remains of another era.
Beautifully written! You took me back to my childhood trips with your story. Oh, the memories :).
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We used to go up to New England every fall and stay at those little bungalows with two metal chairs by the front door. It was always exciting.
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Bungalows – that’s the word I was looking for! And weren’t they fun Kate, because you never knew quite what you were getting into?
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I love it when you get serious Cindy… and thank you! 🙂
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You’re very welcome 🙂
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When we visited my Gr. and Grm.’s house in the summer, there was always this sign at the end of their lawn: “Tourists: Vacancy.” It was just them. I knew sometimes strangers stayed overnight, but it never dawned on me till many years later that they were one of those tourist homes for travellers, or what may even be called a Bed and Breakfast now.
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Loving the nostalgia. I remember waking at 4 or 5am to start a journey, I’d be so sleepy and so excited at the same time! Great post!
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That was a fun walk down memory lane. We also stayed in those tourist courts and like your family, we just took off and stopped when we got tired, always on the lookout for that “Vacancy” sign.
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what a trip. What memories. Thanks for the ride.
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Here in Kentucky, near Mammoth Cave, we STILL have the Wigwam Village and you can stay in one of the tepee-shaped cabins. http://www.wigwamvillage.com/
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You went for a ride, aptly took us along with you, and succeeded with a very interesting post too! Good thing you took your niece’s advice. That was a nice ride down memory lane, Dor, as it brought back my own childhood memories of road trips. 🙂
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Lovely memories Dor to keep but also to share with those of us who live in other parts of the world. Inspiration for another post perhaps – thanks.
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Judith, I’m so glad you enjoyed the road trip post. Lots of memories from a long ago time and maybe more to come. 🙂
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Yes, I have my niece to thank for the road trip post, and glad it triggered some memories for you to Mama. Thanks. 🙂
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I always did want to stay in one of those wigwams Lydia. Next time I’m in Kentucky….. 🙂 And thanks for the link!
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Little girl memories dredged up on a country road. Amazing what blogging can do. Glad you could hitch a ride with us via the post. Thanks for commenting too! 🙂
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Thanks Lori! I still think you are much too young to have experienced some of my experiences. And, I was sure tourist courts were not on our shared list. Delighted that we are sharing memories though! 🙂
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Oh, those early morning departures in the dark – I too remember the feelings of sleepy excitement and how different the world felt. Thanks Dana! 🙂
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What fun Lilly, that your grandparents had a tourist home! Did you get to meet anyone? Did your Gram serve breakfast? My friend, Kit is from Canada and her parents owned a “lodge” with a summer “camp”. The camp was a set of little cabins on Lake Superior, but Kit and her parents and siblings lived in the big house. Sounds a lot like your grandparents place. And yes, the whole concept in the old days was very much like our bed and breakfasts today. Interesting.
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Brewed coffee and Sugar Pops were what I remember of breakfast there. We weren’t allowed sugar cereals and only had instant coffee at home. So that was luxury. Vacancy sign came down when we were in town–7 kids, 2 adults!
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You probably took up all the cabins!!! Coffee and sugar pops – That sounds like a wonderful breakfast, though somewhat lacking in nutritional value! Where do you fit into the fabulous 7? Are you the middle child? They say middle children are potential comedians and artists! 🙂
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I am #3. We are all girls except the boy, who was #5. So I am kind of appraching middle.
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Well Lilly, you are approaching brilliance! An artist and a comedienne, and waaaaay more. Mayabe #3 of 7 is the magic number. 🙂
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I’ll tell my siblings. 🙂
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I remember once taking a car trip to Niagara Falls, traveling with no reservations. And guess what? There was NO place that would have us! How’s That for an adventure? The four of us shut our eyes and fell asleep right in the car!
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Car trips like that seem to stick in our minds over the years, maybe because there was a sense of adventure the whole family shared.
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