Nerd OUT with DJ Action Slacks: This one's for Rex

Summer has come and gone. Autumn shuffled its way to center stage and now it's here trying to dance its way back into our hearts just like Jennifer Grey. For me, the arrival of fall is bittersweet. It's my favorite season, and not only because I can begin wearing ascots again. But this year, unlike most years, I do shed a tear for the end of summer because I was unable to do most of what I wanted to do.

My lovely companion and I did manage one "balls to the walls" road trip to San Francisco. Now that summer is over I'm reflecting upon it and longing for my next chance to hit that open road.

Here we are stuck in a 2 hour traffic jam on Highway 101 trying to leave SF

Those of you who know me are well aware of my unusual, increasing obsession with vintage roadside attractions (or tourist traps, as my dad would call them). Over the past couple of years it’s become a near obsession for me to explore and research the history of the roadside tourism industry of the Pacific Northwest. That project could definitely be a blog in itself.

I suppose my interest comes from being so bored with our contemporary freeway culture of bland, beige shopping centers and boring “tombstone” signage that seems to have marked the death of our once exciting commercial landscape of giant fiberglass statues and enormous, mesmerizing neon signs. THAT was highway culture, when businesses were trying so hard to stand out, be different and command your attention. In today’s freeway culture everything has to be drab and blend together. Signs no longer beckon, they merely mark territory. This is partly due to city ordinances and it’s partly voluntary.

If you drive along the freeway, as we did on our way down to San Francisco, most stops along the way look identical. We stopped in Redding, CA for a burger and it might as well have been Beaverton, OR (except they don't have In & Out there).

Luckily we drove the legendary Highway 101 for our return drive. It took FOREVER, but it was worth it!

Now after digressing a bit, I must come back to the original point of this post. As I was reflecting upon our summer road trip, I was reminded of the giant estate sale score I made last winter. I don’t go to estate sales often (I think I’ve gone to 4 in my whole life). They make me feel like an unscrupulous vulture picking over the bones of the recently departed.

Despite my reservations about estate saling, I do think I was meant to go to this one in Hillsboro last winter. The people who had lived in the home were once devout roadsters, TRAILER travelers who thoroughly explored the northwest during the 40s, 50s, 60s and 70s. Best of all, they saved EVERY little bit of ephemera - business cards, brochures, maps, postcards, photos and so much more. In fact, here is a photo of their precious camper.

It's easy for me to romanticize what I imagine to be their glorious recreational life; A life filled with dune buggies, Aqua Follies, futuristic space exhibits, sky rides, and picnics at state parks. I'd love a life like that but I have very limited time off, an unreliable vehicle and I don't think I could afford the gas. Not to mention, times have changed, for better and for worse.

As I looked over their souvenirs again last night I couldn’t help but wonder what remains of what they saw 30, 40, 50 years ago? What did WE see 3 weeks ago that THEY saw in decades past. How much has it changed?

He waves, turns his head, winks AND talks

This would be me talking to Paul Bunyan at the Tress of Mystery

So to close out summer and I pay tribute to these folks who have taken the ultimate road trip to the great beyond by sharing some of their treasure trove of Pacific Northwest Past.

Trip Journal belonging to Lois

This is The Trees of Mystery with the original wooden Paul Bunyan. They rebuilt him in the early 60s complete with waving hand, winking eye and voice.