October 21, 1964, I was fortunate to be there, …in New York City, walking around the Staten Island side of this brand new and, at that time, longest suspension bridge in the world. In an hour or two the ribbon cutting would facilitate the official opening, and we would be among the first to cross.
“New York’s Finest” on foot, and on motorcycle, as the latter start one final sweep of the roadway just prior to the official opening.
See Part Two, as we prepare to cross the new bridge, which after 2018 became correctly and officially named as the Verrazzano-Narrows Bridge with two z’s, finally conforming to the explorer’s actual name. Giovanni va Verrazzano was the first documented European explorer to sail through this waterway, in 1524!
Thanks for viewing, zoom in for a closer look on these original 35mm film images, and comments are always welcome. M 🙂
Above: “Bounce,” an early envisioned form of nuclear deterrent.
We’ve been busy cleaning out our attic, including boxes and boxes of old high school and college workbooks and paraphernalia. Lurking in the margins and edges of these otherwise “academic” journals are the innermost and most provocative thoughts and revelations of higher education …the DOODLES!
The Cuban Missile Crisis, Vietnam, Woodstock, Social Pressures and Change – Doodles.
Thanks for viewing. Zoom in for a closer look, and comments are always welcomed. M 🙂
Today, Wednesday, we would continue the adventure from Roberval, arriving at what would be our ultimate destination, indicated below as “Route du Nord”
In Part Two, I covered our initial 725 miles (1,167 km) non-stop drive over just under 22 hours from New Jersey to Roberval, Quebec Province, Canada. “Day Two” began at 9:45 AM August 31, 1966, in that lakeside town, driving North-West among more alpine lakes enjoying a smooth, well maintained paved road.
Within about 35 miles (56 km), however, we came across this worrisome signpost just inside another provincial park, (“Chibougamau Reserve”) indicating the end of the pavement. 🙁
65 mph (104 km/hr.) was no longer practical on the gravel surface that stretched endlessly ahead. Stones occasionally pelted the sides of the car; and as this was lumber country, massive logging trucks would fly by enveloping us in choking clouds of dirt and dust.
It would be 115 miles (186 km) before reaching pavement again, at the junction of Rt. 58 West (now known as Rt. 113.) After hours of gravel, the Sprite’s ride felt smoother than ever! Eight miles (13 km) later we would be in the last town while heading north in this part of the world, Chibougamau, serving a growing copper mining region, logging, and the Royal Canadian Air Force radar services.
Continuing, …the pavement ended again just past the town, as we once again were on the gravel road. Thirty minutes later we arrived at the barrier shown below. Its deterrent-rousing presence seemed to emphasize increasing aches and pains, emotional drain and weariness to us, not to mention the effects of dust inhalation and a worsening cold, on my part. We decided this would be our turn-around point as the road would end about 100 miles (161 km) further with limited or no amenities, and likely little change in scenery.
3:25 PM, 8/31/66, 918 car miles (1477 km) – 632 miles (1017 km) as the crow flies.
The non-stop return trip would first take us over 200 miles (322 km) on an unprecedented, unexpected overnightchallenge of gravel and poorly maintained, primitive dirt road before reaching dawn and the increase of population, north of Ottawa!
See the conclusion of “A Northbound Adventure,” (Part Four) here.
Thanks for viewing, and comments are always welcome. Zoom-in or finger-stretch for a closer view of the maps and images. M 🙂
It was late August. Summer jobs were finishing and my friend and I wanted to do something different before returning to school. “Let’s drive north, as far as we can go!”
(Three-second pause …) “Ok!”
Although my 1962 Austin Healy Sprite was slightly damaged by a rear-ending just a week before, its fun handling characteristics and open-air ambiance was an easy choice of vehicle, not to mention great mileage for college kid’s stingy budgets.
There was little debate, and in the warm, humid air of a New Jersey evening, we decided, …the trip was on.
Back in 1966, there was no internet or Google Maps. Preparation was more fly-by-wire as our available time and financial resources didn’t allow many options besides just …going! The Sinclair, Mobil, or Exxon paper maps were our planning media, and if it wasn’t on the map, we’d have to resort to local advice along the way.
Below is the 1098 cc Sprite as it appeared ten months prior our trip, when it was …clean! (“FANG,” the dog, agreed to be the model!)
This former passenger line, crossing Palisades Ave, in Englewood, NJ and adequately guarded by flashing lights and long crossing gates, would not be a comfortable ride today. Still used for limited light freight, it was originally opened in 1859, providing passenger service for 107 years, till 1966. The re-purposed original station still stands aside the right of way, just behind me in this photograph. Many would welcome the conversion to modernized “Light Rail” for connections to Manhattan, via Hoboken, NJ.
As usual, thanks for viewing. Comments are always welcome. M 🙂
The top photo could have been taken last week. But when I stood on the Capitol lawn with the EXA camera, man was yet to step foot on the moon and our president was embroiled in a Southeast Asian war. The camera was a manual SLR, with something called photographic film, from Kodak. (Admittedly some digital enhancing gave the image just a little more snap than the original snap! 🙂 )
As usual, click on the image for a closer look, and thanks for viewing. Comments are always welcome. M 🙂
It was January 23rd, 1965, and I had driven through the night in a winter snowstorm from New Jersey to Niagara Falls in my parents 1960 Buick.
After seeing and photographing the falls, I continued north, first on the Canadian side, and then back in the U.S., to the mouth of the Niagara River where it flows into Lake Ontario. Heading home now, the first 30 miles or so on Rt. 18, along the lake’s southern edge, was magical …the road virtually deserted as the high winds whipped falling and drifting snow across its breath. I loved the adventure. (See end of first part for more “frigid”comments on this stretch)
The image below was taken around 4:00 PM before running out of film and daylight near Avon, The snow continued to fall, although more lightly, into this second night.
I stayed overnight in a decent $8 motel in Bath, leaving at about 10:30 AM the next morning with frozen hands after cleaning off the snow covered car.
Continuing southeast on Rt. 15 brought me to to nearby Savona, where I turned left onto Rt. 226 with the anticipation of passing through Watkins Glen, noted for its automotive race track, and for me particularly, its famous 400 foot deep natural gorge and waterfalls. See this link. Seeing the gorge was not to happen. In fact I was lucky to get anywhere near it. Being a bit self assured, (think: cocky,) I didn’t mind the snow covered conditions of the back roads. But at Tyrone, (upper right in the first map below, left of center in the second) I was determined to take a more direct route, turning right off State Rt. 226, onto Schuylar County Rt. 23 (not labeled.)
It should be mentioned that the ‘few miles wide’ ridges between New York’s Finger Lakes rise from a few hundred feet to about 1000 feet (3050 m) above the lakes. Watkins Glen was on Seneca Lake over one of these ridges, and Huey Hill was in my way. Starting from the intersection at the bottom, I was able to reach about 40 mph (64 kmh) before losing traction on the hill. But I just couldn’t make it to the top. I backed the Buick down and tried again, gaining only a few more feet. The third time, with more initial speed, ended in similiar defeat as the tires just could not maintain their grip on the snowy surface. I felt I was in control, but the “slide-o-matic” Buick just couldn’t maintain any further, upward-forward traction! (Of course, 4 wheel drive, good tires and posi-traction would have helped.) Today (2015) I know it was 1.8 miles (2.9 km) from the intersection to the top with a vertical gain of about 600 feet (1830 m.)
Sulking a bit, it took me a while more to get to Watkins Glen by a much longer, gradually climbing (and descending) state road. And then, upon arrival, the Watkins Glen State Park was closed! I think I was a little relieved.
After 7 more hours, at 7:30 PM, I was back in New Jersey after nearly 1000 miles over about 47 hours, and expenses of about $46.
Immediatly after, my Dad and I had a “conversation!”
Just another interesting week-end.
The camera: a 1960 Exacta (EXA) 35 mm manual SLR, f2.8 50 mm lens. Body composition: finger-freezing metal!
As usual, thanks for viewing, and comments are always welcome.M 🙂