1990-1993 (FORMERLY 4 YEARS- NOW CONDENSED TO 3)
Martin S.:
Great story! Brings me back to those trips we did heading south down the I5 from Vancouver. I remember we always freaked each other out with stories about the I5 Killer (who killed 44 people along the route) and played songs from the Pacific Northwest early 90's was quite the era. Here's a taste - I-5 Killers, Vol. 3
http://www.cdbaby.com/cd/i5killers3
Jim Ratto:
As Night Falls, on Interstate 5, Orange County Bound (Summer 1990)
I maintained a balance of pace and engine temp, slowly, in a southerly direction. In another hour or so, I came upon the dusty, lonely exit for CA 46, Lost Hills. Unlike this exit in today's terms, in 1990 it was little more than a few gas stations, and a Jack in the Box. I needed fuel and I needed a break. A quick fill up and a large Dr Pepper and I was back headed south. As I got back on the 5 freeway I thought about the weird names all these gritty little towns had. Who settled in a patch of dirt and tumbleweeds and decided to "spruce up" the area with a cheery name like Lost Hills?
Within 15 minutes, the coolant gauge had my attention again. By now it was after 5pm and the valley was being baked. In another half hour, I decided to try something, and exited at Highway 58, Buttonwillow. This was much like the stop at Lost Hills, nothing but flatland, a few fast food places and the smell of heat and diesel. I pulled into one of the truck-stop refilling stations and looked for the water hose (which was free to use in those days, no need to pay). After seeing the pink hose laying across the corner of the lot, I parked the X19 near it and proceeded to soak the radiator, through the small grill under the front bumper. I flooded the entire front fascia of the car for a good 10-15 minutes. A sun-hammered half-bake, with a big brim hat and no shirt approached me and just stared down at me. I ignored him at first, figuring he was gonna ask me for money or a ride. After an awkward minute or so, he growled out "That ain't gonna work." I turned and glared at him. He stood over me, blocking out the piercing sunlight. "Huh?", I asked.
"You worried 'bout Grapevine? You goin to LA?"
"Car's running warm, I'm just trying this to cool it off, but yeah I'm going to LA"
"That ain't gonna work. You got 50 miles before you even get to Grapevine."
And with that he limped off into the weeds.
Well, I had a car and clothes on, so I figured I was the brighter of the two of us, and kept watering the grill, while the car idled. I checked the temp gauge and it had fallen a measurable amount. Mr sunstroke didn't know. I was right, as most 19 years old always are. Or assume that they are. Back on I-5....
And of course, within a song or two from Doors' "Strange Days" the gauge was mocking me too. Needle had to prove me wrong and sunburn guy right. More juggling speed and temperature and more bad smells, and exits off the freeway for nothing. And in the heat haze, off in the distance I could see a faint line of glowing lights, the headlights of northbound cars, on I-5, coming down the Grapevine. Oh man.
As you approach the incline, the 300 previous miles of flatland begins to angle upwards, pretty abruptly. You don't see it at first, but in a small-engine car, you feel it. If you were able to maintain 75mph, soon you'd be struggling at 55mph. And the real climb was still a good couple of miles south. Big diesel trucks all hugged the right shoulder and seemed to be really laboring, like a line of oxen trying to drag plows through wet cement. I brought the gearshift back into 4th, and gave the motor some leverage. Up I went. Foot down hard, now down to third. Amazingly the temp gauge didn't climb. The extra rpm's must have given the car enough leverage or something. I didn't care. The truth of it is, the ambient air grew much cooler, as I was now up around 4000'. Frazier Park and Gorman exits came and went. I knew there'd be a lake on my right sometime soon. It was getting dark now, the sky turning an eggplant skin color. Now able to keep 70mph on the clock no prob. Through some gaps in the mountains south of me I could see the urban glow of Southern CA. It was 8:00pm. Time to find some grub and somewhere to sleep.
Jim Ratto:
Nowhere to Stay in L.A. (Summer 1990)
The cool of night was a welcome change after hours in an X19 with no roof, midsummer in the heat of Central CA. Soon the traffic thickened on I5 and the freeway exits became more worthwhile. Passing Magic Mountain, I saw a sign for In N Out Burger. Having never had one, I decided it would be dinner. The place was packed. While waiting I noticed they sold T shirts, with palm trees, shiny Corvette Stingrays, all crowded around an In N Out restaurant. Well that looked pretty "L A" to me I guess, even though it didn't look very hot-rod VW. I bought one anyway. As it was I was wearing a red Mallory Ignition T shirt, and that wasn't very VW-like either. The burger tasted amazing, much closer to something you'd have your mom make, than anything from Carl's Jr. This long, hot trip was beginning to shape up. Back in the car and back on the road. Before I took off I checked the AAA map, just making sure I5 got me to Costa Mesa. Looked close enough, I'd look for "55" in a few hours. I'd need to find a cheap room somewhere soon.
The next few hours are a blur of streetlights, traffic and being lost. I don't remember where now, 26 years later, but I got off the freeway somewhere in Los Angeles. I remember going in circles, and a street I do remember now is "Flower Street." I also remember seeing nothing as far as a cheap, but trustworthy place to get some winks. Around the blocks and around the clock I went. It was nearing 10pm and this wasn't working. Back on the 5, south. I knew if I could get to the area around Disneyland, I'd find something. I had been a few times as a kid and my parents always had a room.
Difference was, they also had reservations.
In Anaheim, Buena Park, Cypress, Garden Grove, everybody was blinking their "NO VACANCY" signs. Again, this was 1990. No iPhone to log into to dial up the nearest hotel with WiFi and nearby vape bar. Nope, I stopped at a phone booth and started flipping through yellow pages. Waste of time. Back in the car, now heading south on 5 in Santa Ana, then Irvine, then San Juan Capistrano, then things went black. I had passed San Onofre and was deep into Camp Pendleton. I pulled over to navigate by dome light, and discovered I was way past Costa Mesa. In Oceanside, I changed directions on 5, now going north. It was midnight. Back through San Clemente, and San Juan Capistrano. I never saw any Motel 6 signs. Kept going. Somehow I ended up, off the freeway in Laguna Niguel. I was falling asleep, cooked, hungry and dehydrated. I drove around aimlessly until I found a Spanish style lodge, pretty swank looking, with tile roof, and adobe-looking walls. The cars parked outside the place were a few levels above my Fiat. But I parked and asked at the lobby if they had a room. They did, for $70, for a single with in room coffee machine. Cool I wouldn't have to find a 7-11 for coffee the next morning. I asked the clerk how far Costa Mesa was, "Oh not far maybe a half hour. What are your plans there?"
"There's a VW show I am going to at the fairgrounds"
Got my key, clicked the targa top back on the X19, grabbed my change of clothes and junk and was asleep in no time.
I cannot tell you all, in this writing, how unprepared I was to come across the cars I saw firsthand, the next morning. I had no idea how the next day would affect my life for the next quarter century, plus.
We'll take a trip into VW Jamboree, 1990 from my eyes, tomorrow.
karl h:
i was there in 1990, flying in from Europe with my first wife. i somewhere have a pack of pics i took, maybe i can find them.
Olaf A./DFL:
Like others said before -this is great reading! Thank you so much!
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