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Day 15 - Fallon NV to Auburn CA

From the Diary of Eagle Scout Bernard R. Queneau
Member of the 1928 Lincoln Highway BSA Lincoln Highway Promotional Tour

Sunday, August 5, 1928 - We slept here in Fallon Saturday night, then had dinner with the local Scout Executive after attending a very tiresome service.  The valley of Reno is very fine and the only part of Nevada that I have liked.  There we did not make a demonstration, since we were ahead of schedule.  We slept on the Y.M.C.A. porch.  Here we had a fine turkey dinner for once.  It certainly felt fine after the canned cow stuff.
Sunday - August 31st

Our next to last day on this cross-country odyssey starts off cool and clear as we load up Sophie.  Fran Reidl is nearby brushing her large and very pretty Siamese cat ‘Mouser’ on a large rock next to her truck.  It has taken a while for the cat to get used to travel – he still hates elevators, but now likes to lean on the dashboard with his front paws and watch the scenery.

Our hotel is actually in between the old and new Lincoln Highways – we exit out of the back lot and get a quick photo next to the ‘Stockman’s Casino’ sign that still stands next to the former highway.   Apparently there is an old postcard that shows the same scene when the casino and sign were both new.  Then we rejoin Route 50 and put the pedal to the metal.  None of us car guys want to be late for today’s mid-day event.  We are touring the auto hobbyist’s Mecca – the National Automobile Museum in Reno, Nevada – home of the famous Harrah’s classic car collection.

The distance today is short, but much of our travel will be through the Sierra mountains between Nevada and California.  Given Sophie’s performance the past two days, we aren’t really concerned.  Still, we can’t maintain quite the same pace that the new vehicles can.  And it is not fun rolling at 40 mph up a mountain with semis coming up behind you at 65!

The early party of the trip is all flatlands – the upper desert area continues all the way to the mountains.  However, we can see the distant peaks become clearer and higher as we approach.  It is hard to tell distances out here – the mountains could be 10 miles away or 50.   We come up on the Tillet’s lavender 58 Oldsmobile.  Rad had complained that he was tired of looking at Packard back ends after the first week, so showing his tail to us should be a welcome change.  But no – the pressure of leading such a stately Packard is too much and he and Marge escape to a Rest Area while we continue on.

The mountains loom up quickly – almost completely barren and rocky, but not too steep up or down.  Sophie handles them all with ease, rolling along at a respectable 60-65 mph.  I am driving this morning – we are trying to switch off to avoid TB syndrome (Tired Butt).

The directions are a bit vague (no surprise there), and we get off on what we think is the correct exit into Reno.  Amazingly enough, a kind fellow in a pickup truck confirms we are heading the right way.  Harrah’s is four miles straight ahead.  Before we get there, however, we see a gas price sign that forces us to turn around for a second look at Golden Bear Exxon.  Regular - $2.09.  Plus – Arm.  Supreme – Leg.

Such blatant honesty requires that we stop and give the owner business.  After all, he is certainly giving his customers the business.  The opposite side of the sign has an alternate price – ‘First Born.’  Since the car belongs to Bill, we make him pay for gas this time.  Owner Moe Alazawi shows us that he is not playing favorites – he has obviously filled up at his own station before.  His great sense of humor made it almost a pleasure to pay $2.09 a gallon.  I did say ‘almost.’

Then it was on into Reno.  At first glance, the ‘Biggest Little City in the World’ appears to be a clone of Las Vegas, with casinos and lights everywhere.  However, a lot of differences quickly become apparent.  First of all, I see some young kids on bicycles riding along the main routes.  Streets are much narrower here, but also much cleaner.  Maybe I am still under the spell of the small towns we have been traveling through for the past week, but Reno actually looks like a nice, safe place to live. 

The National Automobile Museum is just over the river from Harrah’s hotel, and special parking has been arranged for the Lincoln Highway Tour group.  The building is quite large – it contains more than 200 antique, classic, and special interest cars, all restored to the highest standards in the world.  It is amazing to think that this stunning collection is only half of Harrah’s original collection – the rest were sold after his death.

Rosemary is waiting inside to make what she gleefully announces is her LAST collection of money on the tour.  Dinner tonight is up to us, and breakfast, lunch, and dinner tomorrow are all free or already paid for.  Today’s fee covers both entrance to the museum and a buffet lunch set up just for us.  We pay our dues, take a deep breath, and step into Nirvana.

OK – I know a lot of you are not addicted to the automobile.  Some of you even consider us car hobbyists to be a bit strange.  So I will try to condense as much of the experience as I can.  Drool.  Drool.  “Hey, look at that one!”  Drool.  Drool.  “Wow!  Did you know...?”  Drool.  Drool.  “You gotta see this!”  Get the idea?

Actually, even the most mechanically jaded person would appreciate the museum’s collection.  In addition to some of the most unique and often strange vehicles ever built, there are a lot of life-sized dioramas that recreate scenes from America’s automotive past.  Marge Tillett finds a 1902 Capital Steamer in a blacksmith shop, complete with sound effects.  Vicky and John Peters visit the Palace Theater, where a 1932 Lincoln is parked by the curb.  Vicky and I take advantage of a free photo op with period dusters and a Model T Ford, quickly followed by Shirley Woolfitt.  The place is huge, and some of the Tour members end up resting on benches by the river while lunch is being set up.

Rain clouds are moving in from the mountains, and the caterer is giving the elaborate outdoor buffet nervous looks.  It will be a while yet, so I go back in for another ‘fix’.  While I promised not to bore you with a car-by-car description, two of the vehicles are unusual enough to merit special mention.  One is the 1907 Thomas Flyer that won the New York to Paris race of the same year.  The car is all original – and still runs.  The other is one of Mr. Harrah’s personal vehicles – a Jeep Wagoneer with a Ferarri V-12 engine! 

 

The clouds drift past with only a few sprinkles, and the buffet opens.  Salads, deli trays, all sorts of breads, fresh fruit, and even two different kinds of hot cobbler are provided.  Have I mentioned that I will be putting my scale in the closet for a week or two after I get back?

We get some bad news in the parking lot.  Fellow tour participant Bob Martin’s 1970 Cadillac convertible has developed serious engine problems.  He will have to drop out of the tour, but hopes to meet us in San Francisco tomorrow.  Whenever you take old cars on long trips, there is a risk that something will break.  We are reminded how fortunate we have been with Sophie – so far.

The Lincoln Highway actually had two different routes through the Sierra Nevadas.  We leave Reno on the Northern route so we can visit two places – Rainbow Bridge and Donner Pass.  We stop at the Donner Pass monument first – a statue depicting a family of settlers looking hopefully west.  They stand on a 22-foot pedestal – the height of the snow that covered this site when the Donner party was trapped here.

Outside the main building is a touch of humor – a ‘Weather Prophet Rock’ that is guaranteed to be 100 percent accurate if used correctly.  An example – A wet rock means it is raining.

From the Donner Memorial, we continue to Rainbow Bridge.  In addition to a spectacular view of the valley below, you can see parts of the 1920s Lincoln Highway, as well as ruts made by pioneer wagons in the 1800s.  The climb is rather steep, and driver Bill has to downshift to keep the 5,000 pound car rolling.  When we pull up into the parking lot, Sophie has a slight temper tantrum, spitting coolant for the first time on the trip.  Bob Woolfitt kindly provides a jug of water that restores our Packard’s cooling system to full.

We take photos and look over the incredible scenery.  Most of the tour participants make this stop – although the steep grade proves too much for a couple of the cars.  Not J.R. Manning’s valiant little Model A Ford, however.  He chugs over the bridge and up the rest of the summit as we watch.

Although Sophie is still a little temperamental, Bill decides to go the rest of the way up the mountain instead of turning back.  Bob Woolfitt pulls out to lead, and we begin the final ascent.  Things are looking OK until someone in a white pickup truck suddenly pulls in front of the Woolfitt Packard and immediately slows to a crawl.  Sophie is starting to heat up again and giving signs of stalling.  After a few shouts to speed up are ignored, I lose my temper and scream a rather ungentlemanly comment at the idiots – who happen to be a camera team from a local television station.  Not that I still don’t think they were idiots, but I really hope my indiscretion doesn’t show up on the news. 

Luckily, the summit isn’t too far up and Sophie makes it to the top.  From here it is all downhill, and both Sophie’s radiator and my temper cool off quickly.  We wind our way alongside Interstate 80, following the twisting path of the old Lincoln Highway to a ranger station set in the woods.  Ranger Phil Sexton greets us as we arrive – he has been expecting us, as there is a paved section of the original Lincoln Highway about 30 feet into the woods across from the station.

J.R.’s Model A has already got an admirer – local resident and park volunteer Justin has been waiting to see the cars all day, and is more than happy to direct us to the original Lincoln Highway marker in the woods, and the remains of the old highway.  He also shows us the old barn where the rangers used to keep horses – which turns out to be a perfect photo opportunity for J.R.  After getting permission from Ranger Phil, he drives the Model A onto the crumbling scrap of pavement – truly a glimpse into the past of this historic road.

We leave the Ranger Station for our hotel stop in Auburn, CA.  More mountains lie between us and our destination, and Sophie is spitting foam from her radiator with alarming frequency.  The problem does not appear serious, for the temperature is OK and several checks confirm that she hasn’t lost any more water.  We make our way to the hotel, finally ignoring the occasional spurts but keeping a close eye on the temperature gauge.

The hotel at last! We park the car and Ken starts checking things out while I start the web update.  He and Bill return to the room with the culprit – a split rubber gasket on the radiator cap!  Ken thinks he can seal the split with some electrical tape.  They also took time to wash and polish Sophie for the final celebration tomorrow.  Our lovely lady deserves to look her best as we finish this 4,000 mile trek!
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