Stories of travels in your wagon past

I was thinking it could be fun to share a story, or more, about a funny experience you remember from your wagon travels. Either as a kid, or a parent, or what ever.

 

So, as kids my two sisters, my brother and I were a singing group. We used to open shows for Hank Snow and guys like that when they came to Alberta and sang on local radio and TV. Through that we were invited to sing at the Grand Ole Opry in the summer 1957 and my parents set up a road trip for the entire summer that had us touring across much of Canada to the east coast, then down the US east coast to Nashville, where we did our singing, then finished up through the Grand Canyon, out to the coast and home to Edmonton in time for a late start in school.

To do this trip we needed a new station wagon so Dad bought a 1957 Plymouth Savoy. I think it was pink, grey and white. An elcheapo model - Dad was pretty thrifty. He had it just maybe a day or two and he went out to pick up a big sack of something which I promptly sat on in the very back and was told to sit down in the seat. I didn't. Dad had to hit the brakes suddenly, and I made like a bullet for the windshield, hitting the dash and broke something, I think the mirror but can't remember. The only thing hurt on me was my pride, and my butt for not listening.

The car was taken right in to the dealership for repairs so we could leave and it was stolen that night out of their shop. So Dad ended up with the much nicer loaner as our official new wagon, I think the same colours, but it had options. I don't remember even the model but it was a V8 with an automatic, had power steering and brakes, carpet (I think the first one was rubber mats but could be wrong) and just looked and felt like a much nicer car. More chrome inside and out. So with my Dad, Mom, Gram (mom's mom lived with us) and us four kids, four guitars and suitcases for all for three months of on the road travel we headed out from Edmonton. There was a roof rack and a carrier Dad had built with a tarp over it and our bags and two of the guitars in their cases and two empty cases lived there while traveling. I think, but I'm not positive, that our costumes were in the two "empty" guitar cases but that was one heck of a long time ago.

We went south into the US from Edmonton, then east and re-entered Canada again at the southwest corner of Ontario. We spent a bit of time at my Dad's parents place in Formosa, Ontario, then continued east and then down the east coast of the US. Two of the guitars were in the car with us and as we traveled we'd practice new songs, there were coolers with the days sandwiches and pops and thermoses for coffee and tea. It was to say the least cramped yet I don't remember being actually uncomfortable. My sister and I in the very back, older sister and brother and gram in the middle and the Boss man driving and the Boss lady riding shot gun. It was fun. Hot and dusty on gravel stretches of highway and we had all kinds of weather but mostly hot and humid once we got into Ontario and from there until we hit AZ, then it was just plain HOT.

One of the things we did on the trip was try to identify every vehicle that came past us. I got really good at it. Sometimes we'd see a really old car from the teens and twenties and a few times we'd see a 30's luxury car parked and for those Dad would often stop and chat to the owner for a bit. My Dad had a '35 Pierce Arrow when he, Mom and Gram and my sister who was a baby moved to Edmonton right after WWII and he had a fondness for big old classy cars.

When we got home that Plymouth wagon was pretty well used. It was gone by early '58, replaced if I remember correctly with a '58 Mercury wagon, blue and white.

I suspect though that it was that trip that perverted me into a life long wagon lover. Yet I've never owned a Plymouth or for that matter a Chrysler wagon in all these years. Not by intent, I just never found one that worked for me when I was looking.

And I know where I got my trailer loving perversion too. After that trip we hauled a travel trailer behind and it had not only sleeping accommodations but held all the "stuff" so we had way more room in the car, the trips were way less expensive, and we camped in some incredible places all over the continent.

So, that is my wagon story. Any one else got one to share?

 

I told my daughter (age 8) that I was going on a brunch date with a girl and while I was having a shower that I would pay her $ if she cleaned out the wagon. I showered, got dressed and found the wagon gutted, rite down to the glove box was empty. It was a very windy day and all my papers and insurance were way up the road bowing further away by the second. I was a hour late, for the first date.

Brunch went very nice and when I drove her home we stayed in the drive way talking and ended up going for a drive, my sister was looking after my child so it was'nt a big deal ( I phoned ).

Well we went for a drive and ended up half way up the island before we turned around and got back to her house at almost 2AM, again we just sat in the car talking and ended up at parking at a local beach and did nothing but talk till we woke up ( in the front seat fully clothed guys)

We went for breakfast and I phoned home, Sis and the Kido were not missing me, the talking started up, we went cruising again and I only made it home in time that nite to tuck my daughter in..........

I married that girl, my honey, that week end was in my 80 Colony Park.

 

Wow, neat story F-T . What a great way to meet your lady. Set the expectations right up front - I'm a wagon guy.

 

Great stories. Saf57 - IIRC, the inside mirror on those late 50's Chrysler products was actually mounted on the dash, not from the windshield header, so it would have been very likely you hit the mirror.......

 

In '64, my dad married my (now) step-mom. I had two sisters. Step-mom also had 2 girls and a boy. We had a '63 Nova 2-door hardtop (dad's first new car). She had a '63 Falcon Futura sedan. The Nova ended up getting stolen, so the folks replaced it with a new '65 Nova wagon - 283 V8, powerglide, PS, PB, radio, and not much else.

About a year after getting the wagon, the original tires were shot, so dad bought some retreads. Shortly after, we took our annual trip to Disneyland. It wasn't far from home - about 45 miles one-way. There were 7 of us all together. My step-brother and I were in the way-back. No - not in a seat - just the way-back. Dad was cruising down the Santa Ana freeway, doing about 65 - 70 in the fast lane when BAM! The left rear tire blows out. White knuckle time while dad tries to keep control of the vehicle. The freeway gods were with us. Dad got us stopped OK, and was able to change the tire, and we were on our way. Pretty scary ride in the back of that Nova, though.

Step mom couldn't understand that the retread tires wern't up to the job (the car was overloaded....duh). She didn't trust it after that. Dad traded it in on a '66 Caprice wagon soon after.

 

Great stories guys!

I have no idea on what vacation, or what year this happened, but I remember my dad pulling the Country Squire over on the side of the road, and running back, picking up all of our luggage that had come off the roof rack. He had a big blue vinyl zippered bag made to hold all the luggage, and keep it dry, and I guess it ripped open.

When I see Clark Griswald back out their garage, and all the luggage comes off the roof, I always think of this.

David

 

Us kids grew up in Massachusetts. All four of us. My parents had a 54 Bel Air wagon, green and white. Often we'd head north to NH and for us we'd head to Laconia to see the Old Man in the Mountain (now gone since 2004), the Flume and other touristy sites. My parents loved a road trip and loved NH.

On one particular trip we stopped at a gas station to fill up and use the restroom. We all got back in the car and Mom asks "who wants a boiled egg". When she went down the list of names my sister didn't answer. Ooops, she was missing. My dad spun the car around and went back and there she was standing at the pump....13 years old and mad as a hornet. We still laugh about that and she now gets pissed when we tell the story.

 

I've had so many wagon trips over the years that I'll start with the very first one, after I list the wagons:

Dad's new 1958 Ford Ranchwagon

Mom's new 1963 Corvair wagon

Mom's new 1964 Studebaker Wagon (Daytona model IIRC)

Dad's 1956 New Yorker wagon, with the 331 Hemi - What a hauler that was!

Dad had a couple others (1967 Poncho wagon) but I never rode in them. They were on the West Coast, retired, and doing rockhound trips.

My new 1981 Fairmont Futura Wagon (great car)

My 1971 Plymouth wagon
My 1975 T&C Brougham

We've had this 1979 Fairmont Squire since 1997. The longest, heaviest load I've ever done with the same trailer, from Guadalajara, MX to Winnipeg, Canada - 2,600 miles and 3.480 lbs of home stuffed everywhere, including the roofrack.

The most FUN trip of all was driving to the Ford Oakville plant to pick up my dad's brand new 1958 Ranchwagon, back from the factory. It was only about 75 miles from our little town, Bowmanville, Ontario. Dad ordered it with a 289 V8, two-tone blue, near the beiginning of the Production season. It was delayed, and delayed and delayed, and the dealer was embarrassed, so he told my dad that he'd make it up to him. Why? Everyone in our town, worked for the GM car and Truck plants, 10 miles east of us. My dad was the manager for GM Auto Shippers.

Oh, yeah, the Ford dealer made up for it. Dad got to the pickup desk, and showed the guy the bill of sale and the dealer's order forms. He wanted to save $300 on the delivery, so we went to pick it up with an old family friend.

He ordered a plain-jane 2-tone, 289 V8 stationwagon. He got a woodgrained, 390-Auto Ranchwagon. Not a regular Ford 390, a Tbird 390, with all the trimmings. The guy told him that the car was a custom for a dealer's own car, but instead of being shipped to the dealer in New York, it ended up in Oakville, Ontario. 11 miles on the Speedometer. My dad's first encounter with a raw speed=demon under his foot - 34 years old, 4 kids (mom was 4 months pregnant with my kid brother). Well, he went through the scared-sh!tless through to the seasoned circuit racer phase in the 1.5 hours it took to get home!

Mom didn't know how to drive and she was still scared for about 6 months, when some drunk smashed into it, while dad had just finished parking it on the street, to move some stuff in the garage. Totalled. He bought a new 1958 Mercedes 180D after that.

 

Tbird, we did that with Mom left at the pumps! Before we stopped, mom was in the back seat keeping the peace between two of my sisters. I was in the front, holding my baby sister. So when we loaded up, we all took our seats with mom supposedly in the back. NOT!!!

Funny how the women hate to be forgotten 45 miles back. And funnier how they insisted that dad hand over the keys, from that day, onward, at every pitstop.

 

Just a quick blurb for the moment, as I'm heading for bed...

I remember travelling with the family in our wagon from El Paso to Los Angeles to visit my brother in 1986.
We were crossing Arizona at night and everybody but Dad was sleeping. Now, keep in mind that Dad is a totally conservative "I drive the speed limit and not an MPH more" kind of guy. I remember waking up and looking over from the back seat and noticed the speedo was at 95. Way to go, Dad! Your "secret leadfoot" has been revealed.

 

Oh man, I can't imagine being left behind at a gas station

 

Yeah - that happened to my older sister, too. Got left at church on a Sunday. I think we got all the way home before noticing she wasn't with us.....

 

Do you think that it's those kinds of events that gets them to speak up... and never stop.

 

No kidding, talk about ....are you wanted?


Norm, oh your poor Dad....that must have been,,,I don't even want to think about it...you know your going to wish you died when....