When I was growing up, my family, the Moraga Family, Eddie, Linda, Eddie Jr. Elizabeth and Gloria had only one vacation destination. And it took us right through Hell. Hell, California, that is.
Other families would head to the coast, escaping the heat at the beach, or the mountains, there are dozens of lakes tucked away in the Sierra surrounding the San Joaquin Valley.
There was just one place the Moraga Family would vacation. And it wasn’t Wally World. It was Blythe, California. Why Blythe? You may ask. Blythe is where my Nana lived. This Nana was my dad’s mom, Elenore Moraga.
We are in the midst of Summer. It’s a time Americans reserve for our summer vacations.
Vacation, in my family went something like this:
My dad got off work on Friday at 3:00 p.m., at 3:05, five of us were in the car, no air conditioning, on the road heading south on Highway 99.
There were no stops, except for gas, and the gas station had to be on the right side of the freeway. There was no turning left, in my father’s world, it took up too much time to turn left.
We could use the facilities at the gas station. But only at the gas station.
No exceptions.
When the car needed gas, we were to use the rest room. No extra stops.
The good news was we were traveling away from Fresno where it was 105 – 110 degrees in the summer with no breeze or cool-down in the evening.
In Fresno, California, located in the heart of the San Joaquin Valley, once it turns hot, it stays hot, all day, all night until October.
Seeing Fresno in the rear-view mirror was a relief, however, we were traveling to Blythe, California, where it was/is 115 -120 degrees in the summer, and it stayed that way.
Have you ever see a movie that is set in the desert and the actors are trudging through the desert, hot and sweaty, then at night they are huddled together and they are freezing.
Not in Blythe. There were no cool evenings there, ever. I mean Never!
Blythe is located at the junction of Interstate 10 and US 95 near the California/Arizona border. It is in the Colorado Desert section of the Sonoran Desert.
Blythe is east of Los Angeles, and West of Phoenix Arizona.
Basically, Blythe is nowhere.
Let me explain the point I’m trying to make. There are only 4 deserts in North America. Blythe is near two of them.
I know what you are all thinking. Oh, she is wrong. There are more than four deserts in North America. I’m not wrong. Why am I not wrong?
I read.
According to the Bureau of Land Management, too many places were claiming to be Deserts. Why? I don’t know. But someone wanted to control the situation so, these criteria were established:
“To be considered a desert, the area receives less than 10 inches of rain and evaporates more than 10 inches of rain per year.”
There are four deserts in North America: The Great Basin, Mojave, Chihuahuan, and Sonoran.
The Sonoran Desert
The Sonoran Desert occurs primarily in Mexico. More than two-thirds of its total area is in Baja California and the state of Sonora. In the United States, most of the Sonoran Desert can be found in the southern third of Arizona, with small areas in southeastern California.
BLYTHE, CALIFORNIA is one of those small areas in southeastern California. And it is the birthplace of my parents.
And it’s in America Baby.
Blythe was named after Thomas H. Blythe, a San Francisco financier, who established primary water rights to the Colorado River in the region in 1877.
Each summer on our way to Blythe, we used to pass through a small town called Hell. Hell, California, Population 3.
Hell was founded by Charles Carr in 1954. Although there are various explanations why Hell disappeared, according to my father, there was a flash flood, and it washed the town away. No sign of a man named Noah or an Ark.
In my opinion, the only thing good about Blythe is that it’s near the Colorado River.
And even though I spend many hours swimming in the Colorado River, I didn’t learn to swim in the River. I learned to swim in a Canal.
There were two agricultural irrigation canals near my Nana’s, the Big Sea and the Little Sea Canals. I was pushed into the Big Sea when I was 7. When you are pushed into a canal when you are 7, you either learn how to swim or you drown.
I swam. I love swimming. I’m part fish.
But I don’t recommend it. As a young reporter in Fresno, I covered many canal drownings. And it’s just a terrible way to die. No child should ever swim in a canal.
So back to the Moraga Family Vacation.
My Nana lived in a trailer. It was tiny. And it was hot.
She had a swamp cooler. Are you familiar with swamp coolers?! You put them in the window and attach a yard hose to them and it blows wet hot air into the house or trailer.
Nana did not have an indoor toilet.
She had an outdoor facility way, way, way, way outback. There were spiders in that little out-house. Spiders and lord knows what else.
You think Chevy Chase had some bad vacations. The Moraga’s could give the Griswold’s a run for the money.
At night, my Nana would tell Ghost Stories. I believe she was the best storyteller who ever lived. And it wasn’t the heat that kept me up nights. It’s was fear that the ghosts from her horror stories were going to get me.
That is something else I love. A good ghost story,
Once we arrived in Blythe we would stay for two weeks. The minute we got to my Nana’s trailer my dad would disappear and my brother would disappear with his older cousins. I’m not sure where my sister went or my mom.
But I was stuck with Nana and her cats. I love cats. I hate swamp coolers and outdoor toilets and the desert. I’ll hate them until the day I die and into my next life.
The only things that saved me from the heat, the swamp cooler, the loneliness, and the out-house were the books I brought along. “Gone With the Wind” by Margaret Mitchell. “A Streetcar Named Desire”, Tennessee Williams. “To Kill a Mockingbird”, Harper Lee.
I also lived for an occasional trip in the back of my Uncle’s truck to the Colorado River.
Blythe was our only vacation option when I was growing up.
Eventually, my mom, sister and I OPTED out! We stayed home, in Fresno for our summer vacation. It didn’t stop my dad and brother from going to Blythe.
As I was searching for information about Blythe for my Podcast, and this blog I found some great photos and including some aerial shots of the famous Blythe Intaglios, prehistoric geoglyphs in the Mojave Desert.
Who knew? I never heard of them or knew about them. I now know where my father disappeared to each summer. He was with the Aliens drinking beer and chasing women.
As you head out for vacation this year. Take some time to read a great book, see a great film or even a bad one. Please pull over and see the sights on your car trip. Make left turns, see what’s on the left side of the road. Stay cool. Don’t swim in canals.
Read aloud and talk about it. See a film and talk about it. If you love playing tunes in the car take some time to talk about why you love that song, where were you when you first heard it. Become a champion “Name that Tune” player. Talk to each other and if you love the desert please visit the Blythe Intaglios. And say hi to my dad.
