On the Road: Fresno, California

Click on Thumbnail for MapNote: First published on Blogger on April 27, 2007

Unfolding the Map

We're in the heart of California's Central Valley, moving on down toward LA. Click the map!

Book Quote

"He drove me into buzzing Fresno and let me off by the south side of town. I went for a quick Coke in a little grocery by the tracks, and here came a melancholy Armenian youth along the red boxcars, and just at that moment a locomotive howled, and I said to myself, yes, yes Saroyan's town."

On the Road, Chapter 12

Fresno, California

Californians can be very provincial. I'm not sure this isn't like other parts of the United States, and we certainly know that provincialism on a larger scale is known as nationalism and has caused many problems on the international stage. When I write "provincial," I mean an attitude that not only is the place where one is the best place, but also that one has a lack of interest in other places.

I will provide my own mother as an example, who has been a place or two, but who really never left my hometown except for some temporary trips, and who doesn't seem to have a great curiousity about the outside world. But I have more as well. There seems to be a reluctance among many New Orleanians, and having lived there I have found this to be true in many cases, to leave their home and settle in any other place. This can be summed up for two reasons -- one is that New Orleans was and still is a very unique place in our country, but the other is that New Orleanians feel this uniqueness and cannot see themselves in any other place, despite the problems and the difficulties that come with living in New Orleans. This is why post-Katrina, the diaspora was so difficult for many New Orleanians -- they have difficulty adjusting to life outside of New Orleans because of their attitudes, their rootedness to the place and to their social environment.

So, in California, the Bay Area thinks it is THE place to live. All of Northern California is very resentful of Southern California, and Southern Californians feel pretty superior to everyone else.
About the only thing that urban dwellers in California can agree upon is that they can look down upon more rural areas of California, and when I was growing up, going to or living in Fresno (or Bakersfield, which will be considered in the next post) was considered to be a karmic punishment.

Why this is, I don't know. I haven't been to Fresno. But I heard about the blazing hot summers, the thick tule (pronounced too-lee) fog in the mornings that made driving hazardous. The lack of things to do. I bought into these attitudes, but have since learned in my life that making pronouncements about places not only does an injustice to them, but also limits one from ever exploring what they may have to offer. I offer as an example Houston. When I lived in Texas and in New Orleans, everyone pretty much put down Houston. It was hot and humid, it was a concrete jungle, it was too big, you had to drive long distances to do anything. Yes, Houston was these things and more, but we found by exploring it that there are fantastic things in Houston that make some of the inconveniences worth negotiating, like the Art Car Parade, or the Rothko Chapel.

So I try not to bias myself against Fresno or any other place any more. Sure I have my favorites, but everything seems to have at least something to offer. And it is notable that in this particular Kerouac passage, Sal acknowledges that Fresno is the hometown of William Saroyan, who wrote optimistic tales set in some of America's darkest times. If Fresno was such a terrible place, then wouldn't it have made a worse impression on Saroyan? Wouldn't Saroyan's stories and plays be darker?

If you want to learn more about Fresno

California State University - Fresno
City of Fresno
Fresno Bee
Fresno City and County Historical Society
Fresno Convention and Visitor's Bureau
Wikipedia: Fresno
Wikipedia: William Saroyan
William Saroyan Society

Next up: Bakersfield, California

On the Road: Manteca, California

Click on Thumbnail for MapNote: First published on Blogger on April 25, 2007

Unfolding the Map

Sal is working his way down California, which is a long way since it's a long state. You can work your way down California too by clicking on the map to see where we've come (and a little of where we are going)!

Book Quote

"The sun goes down long and red. All the magic names of the valley unrolled -- Manteca..."

On the Road, Chapter 12

Manteca, California

I remember, when I was growing up, that we only had two television stations for the first few years of my life, both out of Eureka, California. Just before I hit my teens, my parents splurged on cable, which gave us a total of about 12 stations, most of them on VHF but at least a couple in the UHF area. These stations opened a whole new world for me, because they were San Francisco stations with new and different programming. I actually saw new cartoons after school like Speed Racer and Kimba the White Lion. I also began to learn about place names around the Bay Area that I hadn't known before. These names were often exotic, like Sausalito, or simply descriptive, like Mill Valley or Stinson Beach. One TV station, advertising its reach with a catchy jingle, threw the name "Manteca" into the mix and that was probably the first time I ever heard of that particular place.

I write this because not just because I wanted to highlight my ignorance of Manteca, but also because the names evoke images that are hard to replace. When Jack Kerouac writes about "all the magic names..." I can identify with that because growing up in rural California in an isolated spot on the coast, these names created some imaginary scenes in my mind. I would have never pictured Manteca as being a simple and small San Joaquin Valley community surrounded by farms. Manteca to me sounded much more exotic and fantastical. The fact that the TV station celebrated its name in a jingle made it that much more likely that it was a special place. I don't mean to imply that it is not special in many ways, but you may see my point, that we often create images where the reality is probably less than the imagination.

Even when traveling as a teen with my family, on our occasional trips to the Bay Area (which were often fraught with tension because my parents weren't comfortable driving in urban areas) the simple act of passing a road sign pointing to some town off the freeway often made me wish that we could take a side trip. Now that I'm an adult, when I drive and notice a sign that seems interesting, I will go there. I remember one memorable trip I made when I was younger where I visited Salt Lick, Kentucky and Pee Pee, Ohio. Who can resist stopping in such places, if only to take a look around and say "Well, that was interesting/uninteresting?" Of course, any place that had some variant of my last name got a visit if I was passing by. It was magical, in a way, and only heightened at sunrise or sunset, when people were either getting up to start a day's work, or going in to have their suppers and settle in for the evening. At those times, passing through such sleepy places often seemed to me like catching them in a private moment and that I should be honored that they let me view them, illuminated almost mysteriously in the first or last rays of the day.

If you want to know more about Manteca

City of Manteca
Manteca Chamber of Commerce
Manteca Convention and Visitors Bureau
Wikipedia: Manteca

Next up: Madera, California

On the Road: Tracy, California

Click on Thumbnail for MapNote: First published on Blogger on April 24, 2007

Unfolding the Map

Sal gets out into rural California. Hard to believe there is such a thing, right, when most of what is transmitted around the country about California involves glamorous LA city life, or crunchy granola San Francisco city life. Surprise! California is much more rural than urban, at least in land space, and if you throw a dart at a map of California you're probably more likely to stick in the general vicinity of a country-music listening redneck than you are a hip-hop loving, clubbing, partying blonde bombshell starlet of the week. So check the map.

Book Quote

"The first was the mad one, with a burly blond kid in a souped-up rod. 'See that toe?' he said as he gunned the heap to eighty and passed everybody on the road. 'Look at it.' It was swathed in bandages. 'I just had it amputated this morning. The bastards wanted me to stay in the hospital. I packed my bag and left. What's a toe?' Yes, indeed, I said to myself, look out now, and I hung on. You never saw a driving fool like that. He made Tracy in no time. Tracy is a railroad town; brakemen eat surly meals in diners by the tracks. Trains howl away across the valley."

On the Road, Chapter 12

Tracy, California

I didn't have an amputated toe, but I drove like that through California once. I was in maybe my second year of college. A friend of mine, John, and I drove down to Walnut Creek where I could visit my sister, who was in the hospital there. On the way back, being youthful, we decided to see how fast we could get back to our hometown. From Walnut Creek, the trip could take about four hours, the last 75 miles or so over winding roads through the coast range to Fort Bragg. We may have been spurred on by a supposed deadline -- John had to be home for dinner or I had to be home for something or other.

So, starting from Walnut Creek, we pushed 90 mph, me driving, while taking the long flat road around the top of the Bay area, then hitting the freeway at highway 101 and heading north. We slowed somewhat through Santa Rosa, but then pushed it again until we got to Cloverdale, where we turned west on CA-128 and drove over to the coast. This was the windy section, but I swear that John, who was driving this part, pushed 60 mph over most of it. We clocked in at 2½ hours, if I remember correctly. Only now when I look back on it am I amazed that we didn't get stopped by a cop, nor did we have a major wreck.

Years later, I learned what Sal is learning while careening with madmen over two-lane highways in rural California. On a month-long trip to Bangladesh, I was driven most everywhere. You can't imagine my thoughts the first time I sat in the back of the vehicle as the driver careened toward a huge truck bearing down on us in the opposite direction. Both blared their horns incessantly and I was certain there would be a head-on. At the last minute, both swerved, still blaring their horns, and passed each other with little room to spare. I was to experience many more moments like that, and learned how to simply go into a Zen-like calm. It is a good day to die, I would say, and simply let it be. Thankfully, I think some sorts of rules of the road that I was not aware of were at work, and I lived.

I don't know anything about Tracy, and I am not even sure if it is still a railroad town. Most likely it isn't, and is a stereotypical sleepy Central Valley farm community, but check out the links below to learn more.

If you want to know more about Tracy:

City of Tracy
Tracy Chamber of Commerce
Tracy Press
Wikipedia: Tracy

Next up: Manteca, California

On the Road: Denver, Colorado

Click on Thumbnail for MapNote: First published on Blogger on July 29, 2006

Unfolding the Map

You have done it, Littourati! You and Sal Paradise have braved the prairies, the loneliness, the long hours of wondering whether you will get a ride, and have reached Denver. Now you will kick back for a while, enjoy your friends, meet up with Dean Moriarty and have some wild times until the road calls you again. Wonder exactly how far you've come? Click the image!

Book Quote

"I got on that hot road, and off I went in a brand-new car driven by a Denver businessman of about thirty-five. He went seventy. I tingled all over; I counted minutes and subtracted miles. Just ahead, over the rolling wheatfields all golden beneath the distant snows of Estes, I'd be seeing old Denver at last. I pictured myself in a Denver bar that night, with all the gang, and in their eyes I would be strange and ragged and like the Prophet who has walked across the land to bring the dark Word, and the only Word I had was 'Wow!'....and before I knew it we were going over the wholesale fruitmarkets outside Denver; there were smokestacks, smoke, railyards, red-brick buildings, and the distant downtown graystone buildings, and here I was in Denver. He let me off at Larimer Street. I stumbled along with the most wicked grin of joy in the world, among the old bums and beat cowboys of Larimer Street."

On the Road, Chapter 5

Denver, Colorado

Just two weekends ago, I made my first trip to Denver. While I was there, I made sure to stop at Larimer Street to see for myself what Sal/Jack might have seen when he was let off there. I can honestly say that despite the fact that many buildings might be left over from 1947, I'm sure that Denver is very different from when Sal stumbled "among the old bums and beat cowboys of Larimer Street."

On the corner of Larimer and 16th, I think, was an area called Writers Corner. Surely they would make some reference to Jack Kerouac? No, there was nary a mention of any writer, and the whole area was a small urban shopping mall with upscale art shops and tiny cafe style restaurants.

16th Street was most likely also very different from Jack's time through. It had become one, long urban shopping mall almost along its entirety through downtown. There was a Starbucks coffee shop approximately every two blocks, along with other chain-style stores. The few businesses that looked local along the street had to really create a niche for themselves and bring in a lot of customers to be able to afford the rent, it appeared to me. 16th Street and had few recognizable Kerouacian characters, a few "bums," so to speak. These were sitting along the side of the sidewalk, watching the free shuttle bus go back and forth, and mumbling their hellos to passersby over the signs that they held reading "God Bless You." They had to be circumspect, however, because Denver had recently started cracking down on panhandling, and the mounted police riding patrol down the street evidently weren't above arresting panhandlers they deemed too aggressive. When my wife attempted to give a woman in a wheelchair money, she said "wait until later," while warily eyeing the cops as they walked by on horseback.

Though I was not able to get there, I heard that a new building, the Jack Kerouac Lofts, had opened up off downtown at 3100 Huron Street, near the Camargo market where Jack (and Sal) took a job for a few days. Evidently, they do not sit on any site that is specifically known for a historic connection to Kerouac.

While my experience in Denver, unlike Sal's, did not consist of watching a friend romance two girls at once (Dean Moriarty), sitting and talking politics and philosophy (Dean and Carlo Marx on bennies), and doing the bars up and down Colfax Avenue (Sal and all his friends), I did eat great Ethiopian (I bet Jack never tried that) and saw the Body Worlds 2 exhibit where corpses without skin were posed doing activities like soccer and ice skating. Almost worthy of Kerouac, I think!

If you want to learn more about Denver and Kerouac's haunts

City and County of Denver Denver Beat Auto Tour (be sure to see all pages, including Beat Shuttle and Beat Train)
Denver's Beat Poetry Driving Tour (I wish I had seen these tours before I went!)
Denver Metro Convention and Visitors Bureau
Denver Post
Jack Kerouac Lofts Attract Eclectic Mix (Denver Business Journal)
Neal Cassady's Denver
Wikipedia: Denver

Next stop: Central City, Colorado

On the Road: Longmont, Colorado

Click on Thumbnail for MapNote: First published on Blogger on July 26, 2006

Unfolding the Map

Sal is almost to Denver and to his friends, but not without a rest and helping cause a controversy over 50 years later. And you, all you need to do is click on the map to see how far we've come!

Book Quote

"It was beautiful in Longmont. Under a tremendous old tree was a bed of green lawn-grass belonging to a gas station. I asked the attendant if I could sleep there, and he said sure; so I stretched out a wool shirt, laid my face flat on it, with an elbow out, and with one eye cocked at the snowy Rockies in the hot sun for just a moment. I fell asleep for two delicious hours, the only discomfort being an occasional Colorado ant. And here I am in Colorado! I kept thinking gleefully. Damn! damn! damn! I'm making it!"

On the Road, Chapter 5

Longmont, Colorado

I really enjoy this passage, as Sal gets a rest on the lawn of the gas station underneath with the Rockies within sight. I've had those moments myself, usually during times when I have nothing to do and all the time in the world. There is nothing like falling asleep outside on grass in the shade of a tree.

The last time I did it was actually a relatively sad time. Our dog was due to be put down on a Tuesday this last March, giving my wife and I an opportunity to spend time with him before the vet came over. We took him over to a nearby local park, and sat with him in the dappled sunlight underneath the trees. It was a warm, lazy day. He just lay there watching the other dogs play -- he couldn't get up by himself any more and had to content himself with observation. We sat, ate some food we brought, talked about our life with him, and read some literature about dogs. After awhile, our dog went to sleep, and we stretched out beside him, falling asleep ourselves for about an hour. The time seemed so peaceful, as if it could drag on forever. When we woke, I felt more fresh than I often have after a full night of sleep. Even Hannibal, on his literal death-bed, seemed more alert and responsive after his rest.

I imagine that the timelessness of the moment (Isn't that a strange phrase -- mixing timelessness with a measure of time? But it somehow seems apt) was also experienced by Sal/Jack as he laid down underneath that tree. In that interval, perhaps he was thinking about how he was making it, how he was finally within reach of his first goal, and just the surety of that meant that all was okay. Finally, a couple of hours, but really an eternity, of rest knowing that he was going to make it to Denver.

A side note about Sal/Jack's time in Longmont. The gas station where Jack stopped is still standing, but not in the place it was in 1947. Located at Johnson's Corner at the northwest corner of the intersection of Colorado 119 and US 287, the gas station was slated for demolition around 2002 to make room for a road extension. A number of people fought to preserve it for its legacy. Not only was it the spot where Jack Kerouac supposedly stopped for his brief nap and bought an ice cream, but it was also one of the few art-deco gas stations left (click for example). Eventually, a compromise was reached, and the gas station was moved about a mile south. I have posted links to the stories and pictures below.

If you want to learn more about Longmont or about Johnson's Corner (the actual gas station where Jack/Sal slept on the lawn)

City of Longmont
Info Longmont
Longmont Chamber of Commerce
Wikipedia: Longmont

Historic Longmont Foundation report on preservation of the gas station
Historic Gas Station to be razed? Article in Longmont Times-Call
Photos of Johnson's Corner

Next up: Denver, Colorado