Atlantic City or bust with crazy aunt Ruth

Now, see I promised more stories with "crazy " aunt Ruth so let me tell an aunt Ruth story. I must begin with a physical description of my mother and my aunt. My mother was the third of 4 children. She was so unlike the other 3 that one might wonder if she was accidentally sent home with the wrong parents. The other 3 were born in December, she was born in May. The other 3 had the dominant Native American features of my grandmother. Small in stature, dark eyed, tawny brown complexion and jet black hair. My aunt Ruth was a beautiful, petite funny woman. Now, my mother, tall, fair skinned rosy complexion, brown hair, large in stature and a serious disposition. To be exact, they were opposites but when you put the two together the laughs were sure to follow.

Well, my mother decided that we needed a road trip to somewhere exciting so a place that was drivable in a day and considered exciting by her standards was Atlantic City. Mind you this was before the Internet and "Travelocity.com". We took off blind with no reservations.....................managed to find our way to the outskirts of Atlantic City. Now remember the limited resources situation. We found a nice little Motel. It was a Single story with drive up to your own door for the mere price of $49 a night. ( a small fortune in 1986 for the 3 of us)

We checked in and got all gussied -up ( Southern translation-put on our best Sunday best) Oh, it was a sight to behold, we were fighting for the mirror, make-up, hairspary- you name it we were fighting for it. We checked each other out for presentation sake, rushed out the door, jumped in the 1986 Bonneville and I peeled rubber as we pulled out of the motel. We were chattering like idiots with excitement as I drove away and then it hit me.....................

"Hey ya'll" pause for them to listen to the question and their expectant eyes focused on me.

"Did anyone happen to get the name of the motel we are staying in?" as the motel disappeared out of sight on a one way 65 mph Turnpike

Well, several things began to happen quickly including but not limited to the following:

My mother dove for her purse in search of the room key(you know that old type of traditional key with the plastic key chain) She wa hoping for the name to be on the key chain. We were not so lucky.

My aunt frantically tried to turn around and see the motel sign as it faded from view. Mind you, I have one speed -FAST. I never once let up on the gas.

We all began screaming out what we thought the name of the motel was; "Turnpike Motel, Atlantic City Drive Motel, The Motor Lodge" and on and on.

I asked, "Does anyone remember what exit we took?" Blank stares were my answers.................


Off we drove to Atlantic City.................ask me if I remember a thing about Trump Casino. Nope, not a darn thing. I was too worried if we would ever find our way back to our hotel and personal belongings. I was imagining the confused motel keeper when the 3 women never returned for their things and the possible police report and last but not least our embarrassed answer once the police tracked us back down in North Carolina weeks later.

The beginning

As the young child of a single parent, who was raising me in the 60's and 70's on a secretary salary, the extent of vacation was a yearly 2 week stay at The Carolina Beach Motel. Picture a 2 story motel , painted white with aqua green trim. Now, the positive side was, it was ocean front and there was a pool. The only two things a young girl of 8 needs. We went to that same motel every year for about 6 years running and stayed in the same efficiency room. This was a good thing since there was little money to eat out. During our entire 2 week stay we might go out to eat two or three times. My mother began to realize that we needed to broaden our vacation destinations. However, money was the obstacle.

Thus began my love of ROAD TRIPS!

Mother would decide one Friday, out of the blue, that we needed to drive in any direction as far as we could go in a weekend. There were limitations that hindered our travels. Primarily, the money to rent a motel room. So some of our first trips involved staying at the rental homes of a professor that my mother worked for. Nothing like staying at the bottom of Grandfather Mountain in an empty home with no electricity or water. There were daily trips to the gas station to fill up buckets of water and the primary source of heat was the gas stove. (Yes, I know - we could have died) but we would have been warm and toasty if we had died-pardon the "toasty" pun. I could not resist. In addition, in order to save money, we would go through Greensboro, NC and pick up my aunt (mother's sister) and my cousin Mark. Ruth would contribute to the gas fund. Please stay tuned there are more ROAD TRIP tales involving my crazy aunt Ruth.

Back to the bottom of Grandfather Mountain. As we lay there at night, in the dark, chattering from the cold, we would talk and tell ghost stories. For sound effects we would get the roaring engine braking of large tractor trailers coming down the mountain. Now, when I say, we sat at the bottom of Grandfather Mountain, I mean at the bottom in a sharp curve. Yes, we were living life on the edge and it was ............... wonderful.

As you can see, my ROAD TRIP life started out by traveling on a shoestring. I hope to move forward through my life and ROAD TRIPS with all that wish to share. I promise laughter, good pix and maybe a few tears. I hope you will join me.

Choxter