9-02-2020 2:12am

Merge Wright: Jackson Hole At 16?

Rick Amburgey Neighbor

In my wildest dreams growing up in an industrial neighborhood in Detroit, Michigan did I ever think I was going to be looking for a job as a dude rancher in Jackson Hole, Wyoming when I was sixteen. Fast forward to 16. I can’t take it any longer. Living with my step father who’s every other word began with an “F”, my mother, my brother and their 3 children. The plan was to take moms 1958 Chevy Biscayne and the title which was hidden in a box in their bedroom. I’d sell the car get a VW Bug and head west. I was working at the Varsity Shop in Birmingham, Michigan sharpening ice skates for area hockey teams making .90 an hour.

My last two paychecks totaling $47.27 should be enough to get going. Gas was just .19 a gallon and I had been driving for 2.5 years stealing moms car at night when they were out partying. You have to understand that my one full brother Frank and I grew up with our grand parents till I was 13.5. Grandpa had a stroke and died within several months. Our mother convinced her husband to let us live with them. We had never missed church, we only said words like heck and darn. Never hell or damn or we’d get a good spanking.

The move was very difficult for brother and I. Our whole world changed. Two and a half years and I wanted out, time to be on my own. I checked with a couple friends at high school to see if they’d like to join me. The second one I asked said sure when do we leave? Saturday would be perfect. I’ll pick you up in the A&P parking lot at 10:00 p.m.

Here’s the program, let some friends know you’re heading to Florida with me. I’ll tell others that we’re going to New England to visit your relatives. And we’ll head west and they’ll never find us till we call them and tell them that we’re in the Wild, Wild West.

I was baby sitting the kids who were 3, 6 and 9 and turned the duty over to my 15 year old brother Frank. My friend also named Don loaded all kinds of goodies like peanut butter and jelly, bread, rolls, donuts, and much more from the A&P into the backseat and we took off to Chicago for our first stop. We actually stopped for gas in Indiana and made it to Des Moines, Iowa by 4:00 Monday morning. I told Don we need a nice used car dealership to sell this car to and we are looking for a used VW Bug. Remember my name is BG Kendall, that’s the name on the title.

You look around and yell, “Hey BG this might be a great car to get us to Mexico.” I had a story to tell the dealership that I put together. First used car dealer fell for it hook, line and sinker. Two hours later we were on a truck route heading west in a 1952 VW Bug with $300 in cash from the deal. Should of been $800 but we were in a hurry and I decided not to bicker. Had to drive north to see Mt Rushmore and a few other cool places as we headed to Yellowstone National Park.

Don’t let me forget. We bought paint brushes and a small can of white paint to paint the name of every state we visited on our red Bug. A few times we went out of our way to enter a state, get out of the car, paint the state name, turn around and head back. We stopped in all major cities sleeping in the Bug at night. We were 16, we were cool and not afraid of anything. When we finally arrived in Yellowstone we wanted to visit Old Faithful first and on our way we encountered a big black bear that appeared hungry. We pulled over, made several peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and I carried them about 20 feet from the car to let him know we made him lunch, threw them on the pavement and ran like a rocket back to the Bug and got rolling. He did partake as viewed in our rear view mirror. I’m sure he thought that was very nice of us. Too bad we didn’t have iPhones with cameras back then or we’d have hundreds of pictures.

Old Faithfull was just another few miles and it was everything that we had read about and more. It’s timing was off several times by a few minutes but great appearance each time. We watched for five hours and put it in our history book. It was The middle of May 1960 and the roads were still thick with snow but two 16-year-olds and a light weight VW Bug could handle any problem. I have to stop and let you know that the other Don was kind of a very quiet 16 year old. He hadn’t come out of his shell yet but would definitely after this adventure.

Heading into Jackson Hole, our eating at a popular Wild West club in town, trying to get dude rancher jobs, meeting the sheriff and giving him a ride in the back seat of the Bug coming next Wednesday.