In 1956 (just before I turned 9 years old) my family took a trip. It was our first big trip with the Nash. This trip became famous and we have been talking about it for more than 50 years.It was Labor Day weekend, a weekend with an extra day off. My Dad didn't get many days off and he was excited about this one. Dad had spent weeks pouring over maps to find the perfect route and making lists of things to pack.
I was so impressed with this trip that I made a little booklet about it. It seems funny now to read what I wrote then. You can tell that I was a little erratic with my spelling.
Things like the mileage and the route were important to my Dad. So I carefully noted them down. I really wanted to impress my Dad and I thought the things that were important to him should be important to me too.
Dad had gone camping in the Smoky Mountains when he was a Boy Scout. While he was planning this trip he told us about their hikes and adventures. He was really looking forward to seeing the mountains again. My Mother was not quite so enthusiastic. She didn't particularly enjoy camping - especially sleeping in a tent. So she was glad we had the Nash car with the seats that folded down to make a real bed. But we didn't sleep in the car our first night out. I'll tell you about that in my next post. 
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