I found this photo of me taken by my cousin Vincent while perusing my archive this afternoon. Initially, I thought it was taken in Montana while on a road trip from Indianapolis to California. When I reached out to him for confirmation, his memory proved to be substantially better than mine, and he provided a full accounting of the adventure. He flew out to California to help me drive my Alfa Romeo Spider from Palo Alto, where I had just completed my Master’s Degree at Stanford, to Indianapolis, where I was expected to report for work at Bell Labs a week later. In the photo below, I am seen servicing the car in advance of our departure. I believe I changed the plugs, oil, and front brake pads, the latter of which will be significant to the end of the story.

After bidding farewell to my California friends, we drove up the California and Oregon coast, stopping to see giant redwood trees and the ocean rocks of the Oregon Islands National Wildlife Refuge. Then we started heading east through Idaho and into Wyoming, where the handstand photo was taken in front of the Grand Tetons. As we were running short of time and money, the remainder of the trip was something of a high-speed blur through Nebraska, Iowa, and Illinois. Vincent drove the final overnight shift through dense fog while I slept. He did this without the benefit of working brakes. Apparently, while hanging the calipers to change pads, I damaged one of the brake line hoses which led to the eventual loss of all brake fluid. Vincent used the mechanical emergency brake to complete the journey without incident.

Looking back, it was probably the most epic road trip of my life and a fond memory I will share with my cousin (now that we have collectively recalled it). I have omitted several details such that my children (and wife) will continue to hold me in high regard. Suffice it to say that we narrowly avoided confrontations with the police, collisions with wildlife, and other general consequences of debauchery.