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Runnin’ Shotgun with Dad and a CB Radio

We took a road trip from Ohio every two or three years in our Oldsmobile Vista Cruiser  to visit family in California.

Hauling three kids some 3,000 miles in close quarters with a weak air conditioner might make the heartiest parent shudder, but not mine.

Parents today prepare for road trips by stocking up on DVDs and iPad games. In the mid-1970’s Mom and Dad installed a CB radio in the Vista Cruiser. THIS one purchase set the stage for an epic road trip!

First I have to tell you what a CB radio is and how we used it.

CB radio? What’s that?

President Carter with the 55mph sign Citizen Band radio (CB radio)  required special equipment but not an operator’s license. If you had the right equipment you just jumped on the the airwaves, communicating with other CB users on one of 40 open channels.

People used it like today’s social media—you could follow public conversations in real time without saying a word. Social media users call this “following the stream” or “lurking.”

CB radio had been used by truckers for years but it became popular with the general public as the means to subvert the 1974 national speed limit  of 55 m.p.h. Truckers’ wallets were jeopardized by the law while everyone else was merely inconvenienced, but the law was universally despised and flouted.

The state highway patrol departments became major revenue sources and aggressively pursued speeders.

The truck drivers all communicated on channel 19 so they could keep each other apprised of road hazards and law enforcement (code name, “Smokey the Bear” or “Smokey” or “bear”) so everyone else who wanted to dodge the law tuned into channel 19, too.

CB jargon hits pop culture & America’s Top 40

In 1975 the wildly-popular  song Convoyhit the airwaves. It told of a fictitious convoy of 18-wheelers that blockaded highway lanes and refused to stop for any reason—including law enforcement—as it traveled west to east, picking up converts and reinforcements along the way.

Real-life trucker convoys and strikes were real, but not as flamboyant as the song portrayed them to be. 

You couldn’t go an hour between plays on every country or pop music station on your AM/FM dial. The song became a movie in 1978 and taught us all CB jargon like “10-4 good buddy” and “put the pedal to the metal.” That’s how CB talk became common parlance.

You’d even hear people in grocery stores and PTA meetings saying “10-4″ instead of “okay.”

Fascinated by this history? Mortal Journey offers an extensive list of jargon and a history of the CB radio.

Choosing our “CB handles” before hitting the road

CB radio

Picture courtesy of Mortal Journey

My family went all-in on CB radio culture. We had a base camp unit at home that resembled the one in the picture (left). My grandparents lived about two miles away and we could give them a “shout” on the CB instead of using the rotary-dial telephone that was RENTED from the phone company and weighed more than the family dog.

buckskin colored horse

Photo of this Buckskin-colored horse courtesy of Skunktail17

In preparation for our bi-annual road trip, Dad installed a mobile CB unit in the wagon and everyone in the family chose their “handles,” which was sort of like choosing your Twitter name (I’m @TamelaRich there). In the Convoy song and movie, “Rubber Duck” and “Pig Pen” were handles (have you watched the clip yet?).

I was “Buckskin,” a horse color. Dad was “Stage Coach,” and Mom was “Running Deer.” Since I was the eldest child—and a teenager —I didn’t give a hoot what my younger siblings’ handles were.

The CB was a precursor to the cell phone. We could use the base camp to hail Dad on the CB Radio in the Vista Cruiser and tell him to stop at the store for a missing dinner ingredient. For sport he’d say  “Stage Coach here. I’ll put the ‘pedal to the metal’ and be home in five minutes.”

Ohio to California with the truckers on CB

Now, back to the promised story about our legendary Ohio-to-California road trip.

Traveling along I-40 and parts of the old Route 66 we faced a couple of days in the scalding desert both going to and coming from California. At midsummer, those days were brutal in a car with vinyl seats and an underpowered air conditioner.

On that note, some highway departments filled roadside barrels with water that drivers could use to keep their radiators from overheating. Please don’t tell me I sound elderly with this recollection.

Mom and Dad had a great system for getting through this portion of the trip. Mom drove the day shift and Dad drove at night. This brought the added advantage of skipping the cost of a motel—take note, minivan parents! Desert truck with gas tank

As a night owl myself, my job was to keep the conversation with Dad going in order to keep him awake. In CB jargon, I was “runnin’ shotgun.”

I thought it was great fun spotting Smokey Bears and reporting them on Channel 19. Dad had the eagle eye for Smokies, but he let me make the reports. There weren’t as many bears to spot at night, which was why we had to keep the conversation going.

With my little feet propped up on the dashboard, the air conditioner passing air up my shorts with the force of a baby’s breath, Dad and I talked about the meaning of life through the wee hours. To this day we are amateur philosophers.

Lots of the truck drivers we eavesdropped and conversed with had philosophical streaks, too. We heard misgivings about the nature of their work: providing for their families too often conflicted with important family events.

Yes, even a tattooed, chain-smoking trucker with Yosemite Sam mud flaps (“Back Off”) will choke up when he tells you the story of missing his daughter’s ninth birthday party.

I still talk to truck drivers, but not on CB. I like asking them at a diner or truck stop about the things they’ve seen and the sights I should be sure to see myself. They lead interesting lives, for sure.

How to report a bear sighting

A CB operator with something important like a bear  sighting (law enforcement varietal) to report would start the conversation with “Breaker, 1-9″ which was the way to “break” into the ongoing conversation.

“Breaker 1-9, this is Buckskin. There’s a bear at mile 142 southbound behind the bushes,” meant, “Attention everyone! Buckskin here.  There’s a speed trap at mile marker 142 south. Look behind the bushes.”

CB operators would immediately conform to the speed limit, and leave the others to be swept up in the speed traps. I thought it was cool that I could change interstate behavior with one report. The power of broadcasting!

I didn’t always understand the CB conversations—again, like the Twitter feed, they moved quickly, and I was only about 13—so Dad often fed me my lines.

He made me sound grown up and well-informed so I didn’t realize at the time that my high-pitched voice gave my age away. I thought the truckers mistook me for an adult, which of course was my life’s ambition.

The grizzled road warriors often chuckled at my witticisms, but if they stepped out of line, Stage Coach would take the handset and put them in their place.

Busted!

blue police lights

Photo courtesy of Flickr user Jon Candy

One morning, when Dad was at the end of his night shift, I was dozing in the front seat and everyone else was waking up in the back seats. Dad picked up the CB handset and said “Breaker 1-9, this is Stage Coach. I just passed a bear in the median at mile marker (whatever it was).”

And the next sound we heard was a great baritone, “Stage Coach, this is Smokey the Bear. Pull that Vista Cruiser over to the shoulder. We’re gonna have a conversation.” Blue lights lit up in the back window and we children were terrified. We’d never had a run-in with the law!

Mom said, “That’s gonna be an expensive ticket, Stage Coach.”

We  all love that memory! I lovingly compare that road trip to National Lampoon’s Summer Vacation (see the video at the top of this post). Dad wasn’t Clark Griswold—he wasn’t as goofy—but he was just as lovable and open to life’s adventures.

 

Advice for a 2014 road trip with kids

Picture of The Big Texan

Photo courtesy of Flickr user Tim Anderson

Okay, so why did I tell you this story? It’s the perfect illustration for why parents who want a memorable vacation should actively involve their kids in its planning AND during the road trip itself.

Wait a minute, you’re planning on flying to your destination? Think again!

I remember a few other vignettes from the trip; eating at The Big Texan where I bought a hair ornament decorated with little pistols, meeting my California cousins, and watching nuns play jump rope on the beach with a rope made of sea kelp. Yet nothing makes me smile more the memory of being right in the thick of it with Dad in the middle of the night, sighting bears and reporting them to the truckers.

My advice for involving the kids? Give an older child an entire travel day of the vacation to plan the roadside stops or a destination city to research and make recommendations to the rest of the family. I like the Roadside America and Roadside Presidents and History Here apps for finding unusual sights and historical markers.

Here’s a novel idea: Use MovieLocations.com to search for locations where movies have been filmed. You can search by movie name, actor/director and world map. You’d be surprised the places where movies have been filmed. It’s not always Los Angeles and New York; Missouri saw nine major motion films and Iowa claims six!

A younger child can choose a restaurant from the billboard signs along the way or can choose where to eat a picnic lunch. You can say to the child, “We’re going to stop in Berkeley Springs West Virginia for a picnic lunch. Would you like to eat at a pull-off where you can see three states (Pennsylvania, Maryland and West Virginia), or at this state park where President George Washington took a bath?” Giving kids two choices that you can live with makes everyone happy.

Okay, now back to you. What was YOUR MOST MEMORABLE ROAD TRIP? A friend in college told me about a trip where one of her brothers got car sick and her dad had to pull over and let everyone puke their guts out (puking is usually contagious, even if what caused it isn’t). As I type these words I’m snorting with laughter!

Send me a picture and story from your favorite road trip and I’ll make a collage with your stories! The best story can write a guest post here on my blog. 

About Tamela Rich

Avatar for Tamela Rich
Tamela lives in Charlotte, North Carolina with her family, but most summers she'll be found elsewhere, astride her motorcycle. Ask her to share some of her lessons from the road at your next event! Tamela's award-winning book, "Live Full Throttle: Life Lessons From Friends Who Faced Cancer" draws on the stories she heard while traveling the United States on two long charity rides to benefit cancer organizations.

15 comments

  1. Avatar for Tamela Rich

    OMG! Firstly my handle while driving truck was “Topshelf” it had two meanings, beer income, champagne appetite; and I was able to reach the top shelves in stores for my short friend. I was mostly a stalker on the CB, but I pranked with more than one fellow trucker who tried to flirt on the air with me. Good times.

  2. Avatar for Tamela Rich

    Haha, I love that, Topshelf!

    Do you remember folks like us in cars getting in on the action?

  3. Avatar for Tamela Rich

    Love this

  4. Avatar for Tamela Rich

    This is an awesome trip down memory lane. My father drove us all around the southeast and old videos of Bob Hope on a bungie-corded early VHS player (today you’d think of it as a land bridge) in the back of the van, a cassette book of Time Life’s Decades to educate us musically, a solid supply of 8-Track hits, and the CBR for being a road warrior.

    We watched for smoky, we talked to truckers about incidents, and more. I’ll have to speak to my dad if he had a handle–as a Doctor he often found himself a roadside medic and helped out when he had to and I have the feeling he was one of the classic ‘Docs’ on the air. Meanwhile I was Snakeeyes for my love of GI Joe, haha. :D

    Anyhow, this was a fun trip to engage my own memories and I’m glad you shared yours!

  5. Avatar for Tamela Rich

    Haha, I would love to see that bungie cord setup! I saw some fun rigs back in the days before built-in TV screens. A friend strapped a small TV-VCR combo to a milk crate between the minivan seats for her kids in the back. Oh, the lengths we’ll go to to keep those kids in their car seats!

  6. Avatar for Tamela Rich

    Wow, this brought back some memories of my grandfather, who was big into CB radios at one time. And when I was in my 20s, I got sucked into CBing awhile myself, in the pre-cell phone days. I was a wanna-be “high tech redneck.” Sadly, my Honda Civic with the giant antenna on the roof was not as impressive as a big pickup truck. In fact, I probably looked a little silly, especially when the wind picked up on the highway and the stupid antenna would fly off and flap in the breeze. That, plus the fact I could never understand most of the CB chatter, made it one of my all-time dumbest investments. 10-4, 10-8.

  7. Avatar for Tamela Rich

    It still amazes me how much CB dig its way into 70,s and 80,s popular culture with many T.V programs shoehorning citizens band in (no matter how irrelevant). Got me first handheld CB at 16 and radio has been with me ever since, one way or another.

    Convey is a classic and always reminds me of some great times :)

  8. Avatar for Tamela Rich

    Brandon you cracked me up with the image of that tiny Honda being tossed around by that CB antenna-sail!

    Fortunately I had my dad feeding me my CB lines or I’d have been lost too! What a moment in time!

  9. Avatar for Tamela Rich

    Carl, what amazes me is CB’s staying power. I have friends who use it to communicate while on motorcycles!

    Thanks for reading and reminiscing.

  10. Avatar for Tamela Rich

    Hi Tamela, what a good story; while listening, I remembered of my experience learning to drive, going up the mountain behind all the trucks. I was just learning to drive. Coming to this State from Manhattan, I did not need to learn how to drive, nor did I care to do so. Driving has never been my great passion.
    My husband got me a CB and I got very good at informing others about “Brown Bears” hidden on bushes or deep road turns. I had a tiny sports car which I learned to use as “butter on a hot pan”, once my first months full of fear and precaution were left behind.
    Although I was scared of driving late at night to return home after classes, with mostly truckers on the road, soon my fear change into respect for conductors of huge cargo vehicles. I would listen to their conversations, not always clean, but they were like forewarning ” flags “. I did not converse to them but because of their chat, I learned of dangerous areas on the road when the weather was bad; and obviously, where those “bears on brown wrappers” were.
    Thanks Tammy for your story. I have always admired your sunny attitude.

  11. Avatar for Tamela Rich

    Teresa, I never heard the phrase “butter on a hot pan” in CB jargon. What does it mean? Thanks for chipping in on the conversation!

  12. Avatar for Tamela Rich

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  13. Avatar for Tamela Rich

    A CB radio or “citizens band” radio is the perfect medium range communications tool. The average store bought 2 way radio usually operates on GRMS or FRS frequencies. These frequencies are limited to a few miles and are limited even further by buildings, tress, mountains and all obstacles. CB radios can obtain ranges up to 150 miles, sometimes more. CB’s operate on a different frequency than traditional consumer radios which allows them to obtain these extended ranges and makes them a preferable communications tools.
    Many people thought that CB Radios are extinct, but they’re still here and widely used to date. They are very useful and the cost to buy one is quite cheap as compared to the price of cellular phones. There usually used in business, industries, personal use and many more other applications.

  14. Avatar for Tamela Rich

    Thanks for the information. I have some friends who still use CBs on their motorcycles. “Tried and true” is what I hear from them.

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