Our summer vacations were often centered around a trip "home" to Minnesota to see family. I remember one summer, late June probably, driving in the truck. I'm thinking mid 70s probably. We were taking a route we don't normally take somewhere in Wyoming I think. We ended up on this remote pass through the Rockies -- there was six feet of snow on either side of the truck, and it was summer by all accounts! (Being a kid from California, this was shocking!) As we climbed up the steep pass, I remember Dad watching the gas gauge. Because we were on unfamiliar roads, it was hard to say when the next gas stop was going to be. (That was before you could ask your GPS unit!) We crept our way up to the top, and then pretty much coasted down the backside. Even though there were concerns about having enough gas, I was confident that Dad knew how to get us down to somewhere to get some gas. Sure enough, at the bottom of the peak was a gas station. A huge sigh of relief from Mom!
I couldn't find an archived picture of it.... I'm sure there were too many worries about the drive than the scene, but it looked a lot like this one!
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