Road trip to H _ _ _
By Glen - Mar. 1994 Hudson Spoken Here
The story you are about to read is true. It was one of those trips where every bad thing
that could happen did!
Our goal was to attend the annual
San Diego swap meet at the Jack Murphy Stadium. Having
been there before we were looking forward to cheap auto parts, good company of fellow
HETers, and warm weather.
… My son Cary and his friend
Bill drove my ’47 coupe. Doug, Robert and
I were in Robert’s Chevy van towing a ‘’49 Hudson coupe owned by Robert and
me. We had plans to sell it in San Diego…
Leaving Brigham City, Doug drove my
’47, and Cary and Bill in the GMC pickup towing the ’49 coupe stopped at Ogden
to pick me up at work. It was 1:30 and
raining. I unloaded my stuff from the AMC
Eagle to the truck and was ready to go when Cary said that the GMC battery was dead. We took the battery out of the Eagle and put it in
the GMC and headed for Orem. In Orem we hooked
the trailer on to Robert’s Chevy van and we were on our way.
Just south of the Scipio overpass we
stopped because we could not see Cary’s headlights behind us. Unknown to us the ’47 windshield wipers quit
working and the headlights blew a fuse. Finally
a passer-by saw our Hudson on the trailer and stopped to tell us that he saw another
Hudson along with a pickup limping along the side of the road about five miles back.
What had happened is that Cary drove
on the shoulder and a pickup followed Cary with flashers.
Unknown to us, Cary drove over the overpass into Scipio while we drove south
looking for a firm area to cross over to the northbound lane. (In case you were unaware, the markers for a turn
around on the interstate are two reflectors instead of one.) We found two reflectors and crossed over to the
northbound lane – Cary must have been driving above us as we checked all oncoming
traffic for a ’47 Hudson coupe.
Meanwhile, Cary found the fuse
holder, replaced the fuse and headed south to catch us.
We traveled twenty miles in the opposite direction looking for him. We returned to Scipio and checked the C-store,
stopped a sheriff deputy, and a few travelers southbound to ask if they had seen an old
Hudson. No luck!
It was dark, getting very cold, and drizzling.
Robert started south from Scipio. I knew there was no way Cary could be in front of
us, and I also knew if I lost my only son I was in BIG trouble with the “little
woman” who wasn’t thrilled I was going on this trip (in bad weather) and taking
the only offspring I legally claim as mine.
Anyway, I told Robert and Doug that
just maybe Cary had limped back to Nephi and we had to turn around and check. Robert missed the double reflectors and decided he
could cross to the other lane any where despite the rain and soggy terrain. When Robert started across the median my whole
being screamed out, “What the h _ _ _ are you turning here for?” I was in such shock, I didn’t utter one word. Robert later said that if he thought for one moment
that we wouldn’t make it, he never would have tried.
Does stuck up to our axels in 12 inches of wet, gooey mud with 3 inches of
water and still raining paint any kind of picture?
First Doug and I pushed against the
’49 coupe on the trailer as Robert rocked both van and trailer deeper into the mud. I pushed so hard on the bumperette on the Hudson
that it broke off.
Next we decided to unload the Hudson
to lighten the trailer so that Robert could drive out of the “quicksand” we were
in. Our tools, flashlights, and my heavy coat
were all in the ’47 coupe! Working in
total darkness, we were finally ready to unload the ’49 coupe. Standing on the trailer fenders, I gave my muddy
shoes to Doug. The Hudson started right up! I gunned the Hudson as I drove down the ramps and
up the side of the shoulder. I never expected
to make it onto the shoulder and I didn’t. Robert
got in the van and really gave it h _ _ _. No
luck! Robert came back to the Hudson because I
hadn’t gotten out since I had no shoes and my feet were cold. Robert told me that the ground was more solid to
the left of the van and trailer and he thought that I could make it across and then use
the Hudson to help pull the van out of the mud.
As I reflect back to that moment, I
knew in my heart there was no way that low bodied Hudson was going to plow through 50 feet
of mud and then make it up to the shoulder on the other side. Robert, however, has more faith. He knew we could make it with he and Doug pushing! Looking back with 20/20 hindsight, I’m here to
tell you. If he and Doug and ten other guys were shoving that Hudson we would still not
have made it.
Anyway, back to the story. Three more times I told Robert, “We’ll
never make it!” Robert assured me we could get it across the median. Of course, I was
right, but a lot of good that did me then or even now!
In fact, I would have given almost anything to have been wrong. I put the Hudson in low, floored the gas, and Doug
and Robert pushed. The Hudson came down off
the shoulder and sailed about six feet and became mired in gooey mud up to the rocker
panels. We got about two feet farther than I
figured. Robert, however, knew we would make
it across the median… I’m not the kind of guy to say, “See, I told you,
Robert!”
I thought if we lifted the trailer
off of the van [hitch], Robert might be able to drive the car out of the predicament we
were in. Then we could use chains to pull the
trailer, then the Hudson. We were doomed
again. The trailer was locked with a padlock
and Cary had the key, as well as the hacksaw. Robert
decided to remove the pin that holds the trailer hitch in place. Even with the pin out, the hitch was binding so
tight, it would not pull free. So Robert
gunned the van, Doug and I pushed from behind and finally the van began to move up the
side of the shoulder.
Finally we were out but parked in
the fast lane of traffic. Robert pulled over
and we replaced the pin and the hitch without loosing the trailer and drove to the C-store
to buy flashlights. I called Cary’s wife
to see if Cary had called home. No luck!
We drove back to get the Hudson out. Robert joined all the chains together and started
to pull on the Hudson. I was watching for the
metal post with reflectors that I knew was behind me when I heard a crunch. Luckily, the back bumper and not the side panel
made contact. We jumped on the metal post and
continued to pull the Hudson over it.
With the van, the trailer, the
length of chain, and then the Hudson, this made a pretty long combination, and I was
sitting backwards in the fast lane with headlights coming at me…
At this time a Utah State trooper
pulled up on the northbound lane and turned his spotlight on us. He must have been one of Robert’s relatives
because he tried to cross the median where we just spent two hours trying to free
ourselves. Since the Hudson was not licensed
and Robert lost his license (lost not suspended), we both drove away with the trooper
standing in 12 inches of mud!
… We were thankful to arrive in
Beaver, Utah and decided to spend the night. When
I checked into a motel the desk clerk asked what type of old car we had on the trailer. I told him it was a Hudson. He commented that another Hudson had checked in
earlier… I felt a great relief that we had found Cary…but our problems were not
over.
A clogged fuel filter almost left us
stranded in Baker, California. In San Diego a
U-joint had to be replaced and on the way back we had a blow out and spent several hours
in Victorville looking for a spare.
.
