"Goin' Mobile"

This is the second of three parts, chronicling the three-week odyssey five of us took, leaving late the same night we swaggered across the stage at Bishop Amat.

“I’m going home

And when I want to go home, I’m going mobile

Well I’m gonna find a home on wheels, see how it feels,

Goin’ mobile

Keep me moving” The Who

At my request Glen Wass popped Who’s Next? into the eight-track, as we set off for Sequoia National Forest in his ’64 Econoline van. With John Hartnett, Bill McCluney and Steve Haskell, we were celebrating freedom from Bishop Amat High School, earlier that day, together with freedom from parental control. 

Who am I kidding? We could remove ourselves from our parents but we could not remove our parents from us. So attending Mass on Sundays was a given. This and other edicts were passed down to the five of us at a meeting at the Hartnett residence, each of us present with at least one parent.

“One final thing we want to discuss is alcohol and girls,” intoned Mrs. Hartnett. 

I thought to myself, that’s two things but math is not the subject here, Mass is.

Bill chimed in. “We’re always happy to talk about alcohol and girls,” and then his eyes opened wide as someone kicked him under the dining room table. “But that’s all we do is talk,” he finished lamely.

And yet I was the one with the gag order…

We were nodding in five-part harmony with Mrs. Hartnett, as John assured her that we were not going to be trying to pick up any girls.

“Humph. I should certainly hope not. You boys-no, you young men-are going to have to live up to the ideals we have instilled in you.”

John squirmed uncomfortably in his hard-backed chair. “Mom,” he began, but she turned to him.

“Now John. You know very well that I believe you are good boys, but I also know that good boys have the same temptations as bad boys, and I want to have your word that there will be no shenanigans on this trip.”

“Of course not, Mom. What do you think? That we’re planning a big party up north somewhere, and that we are inviting every girl we know to be part of it?” 

Let’s not exaggerate John-we know more than seven girls…

“Well, I wouldn’t put it past you to try and pull the wool over our eyes.”

 

“Mom.......”

“We haven’t discussed Church. How do we know that you will go to Mass each Sunday?”

Ripping the duct tape from my mouth-metaphorically speaking-I blurted out, “We’ll have all day Saturday to find a church to attend on Sunday.” The words sounded lame, even to me. As though we were going to spend all day Saturday looking for a church. Right.  

Can I help it that the duct tape came off so easily? 

Our chariot home...

Surprisingly, Mrs H. was pacified. “Fine. If you can follow the rules that we have set down, then I feel you have earned our trust.” And here she leaned forward. “But if you break your word, my, my, my,” and she let it go at that. 

Mama didn't say anything because she didn't have to. She knew me well enough to know that all she had to do when I got home was give me the look and I would spill my guts. As it turned out I would need no words to explain what had occurred. After all, Debbie was standing right beside me, mute testimony that I was smart enough not to try and get away with anything. 

“Come to me now (Come to me now)

And rest your head for just five minutes

Everything is done

Such a cozy room

The windows are illuminated

By the evening sunshine through them

Fiery gems for you, only for you”  Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young

Just as Goin’ Mobile was my go-to, music-wise, CSN&Y’s second album Deja Vu was everyone's favorite. It was ironic that the letter the girls sent announcing their plan to join us at Plaskett Creek was addressed to Bill, and yet by the time the girls actually arrived, Bill had already set off for SoCal on his own. He hitchhiked down to San Luis Obispo and then took a bus back to SoCal, because he was missing home and more specifically his girl, Nancy McIlvenna.

But I have leaped ahead of the story. Upon leaving Sequoia we headed 250 miles up to Yuba City, the home of my mom’s brother Walter, his wife Ellen and more kids than even the nine in my family. John, of course, wanted to go fishing with them, having read that catfish were plentiful in the Feather River.

As to the fact that the first eight kids born to Walt and Ellen were girls, I am shocked that any of you reading this would think of that as a possible motivator for our trip to Yuba City. 

That the five of us were welcomed and invited to stay, speaks volumes for the hospitality extended. I will confess to having vague and unsettling memories of one of the girls being unceremoniously dumped into the swimming pool, horror of horrors. Nevertheless, we ate dinner with the entire family, spread our sleeping bags out on the living room floor when that time came, and enjoyed breakfast in the morning before once again setting off on our journey. 

I can pull up by the curb,

I can make it on the road,

Goin’ mobile

I can stop in any street

And talk with people that we meet

Goin’ mobile

Keep me moving

We made our way north and up into Oregon. Heading counter-clockwise we traveled east and then north, and eventually back to the coast. We ended up at the home of another set of first cousins, these on my father's side of the family. It being toasty outside, we visited a local swimming hole, a large reservoir that had life guards and a horde of swimmers.

One of those lifeguards had a megaphone to go along with with his bark, and he spent the afternoon bellowing, “Off Those Ropes!” to swimmers who instinctively reached out to grab ropes that extended across the swimming area towards the middle of pool. We never fully grasped the reasoning behind the edict, figuring the rope to be a safe haven, but Steve adopted this phrase as his mantra. At any point in time, either in response to a question or right out of the blue, he would bellow out, “Off Those Ropes,” and everyone would nod in agreement.

Our house is a very, very fine house

With two cats in the yard

Life used to be so hard

Now everything is easy ‘cause of you

We had such a blast in Yuba City on the way north, that we cut across from Highway 101 and returned for an encore. We kept this visit to a late morning/afternoon stint and then headed back over to the coast and down to Big Sur. 

Two things stand out during this time period, prior to the girls arriving: First, we went up to the Trappist Monks Monastery, being treated with respect and being welcomed to attend Sunday Mass with the monks in their chapel. This was one mass that required no parental proclamation to induce attendance. The facility was exquisite in it simplicity and beauty, and a calm presided over everything.  

Out in the woods 

Or in the city

It’s all the same to me

When I’m driving free

The world’s my home

When I’m mobile

Secondly, John was chopping kindling with the hatchet, when he brought the blade down on the index finger of his left hand, splitting the nail and a good portion of his finger wide open. We drove back to Carmel to have it seen and attended to. 

In forty years of living off the grid up here on this twenty-acre parcel of land, I have had to split wood with a hatchet countless times. I learned from John’s mishap to keep my fingers on the side of the piece of wood being split, so that I could never bring the blade down on any of my fingers. I benefited from the lesson John paid for so dearly.

Taken upon my return from our epic
journey, complete with three-week
growth of beard.

When the time finally came and the girls arrived, there was much whooping and hollering, before we headed across the highway and down to the water. There were seven girls and the four of us guys who remained. Having consulted John, Glen, Bill, Peggy, Debbie and my own fuzzy recollection, I have compiled the following names as the posse of girls who journeyed up to Big Sur to meet us: Peggy Callan, Debbie Bienville, Alice Frausto, Charlotte Neal, Theresa Briones, Janet Brown and one other, whose name remains in the mist. 

It was mid-June, the weather was ideal and there were no clouds in sight to foreshadow the storm that was about to be unleashed.