As I recall, traveling during the holiday season was a grand adventure. I’m talking here about back in the day… back when communication beyond a face-to-face conversation with a neighbor was an iffy proposition and most of our news came over the radio, all things being equal.

I’m talking here about the days of my childhood when the trip to Oysterville from Alameda, California took at least two overnights, sometimes three. We drove up on what we now call ‘old 99’ which wasn’t a very pleasant trip even in the summer – no air conditioning, lots of flat tires – and in the winter it was all about hoping the heater would work and that you could get through the mountains without having to put on chains.

It was far easier to go up by train and we did that, too, when we could get tickets. It was wartime and priority was given to the troops who were lucky enough to get home for the holidays. Even when we did luck out, it was often a matter of sitting up all night. We caught the train in Oakland in the morning and it pulled into Portland the next day about noon. Some of ‘the relatives’ met us and then, if it worked out that way, they gave us a ride to Oysterville. We hurried so we’d make it to Astoria before the last ferry.

But, of course, if the weather was nasty and the ferry wasn’t running, it was another overnight in Astoria. Or we might have to wait for a while (maybe another day or two) in Portland until Papa (my grandfather) could get there to pick us up. Partly, it was a matter of his having enough gas rationing stamps.

So, this morning when we suddenly have no landline communications, no internet service, no way of checking those new-fangled travel advisory sites, I remind myself that this planning trips to the gnat’s eyebrow that we’ve been lulled into hasn’t always been possible. Holiday travel wasn’t a Christmas “Vacation” then and, apparently it isn’t going to be one now. More like a “Winter Adventure.” I hope we are up to the challenge…