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Oregon or bust

Going to my first real job in Oregon on the Columbia River

 

    It was 1949, and I had been working in the estimating department of G. F Atkinson, Construction and Builders, Company in South San Francisco.

 

After one year, I was invited to go to a new job. I was going to be part of the first contracts on the Mc Nary Dam on the Columbia River in Umatilla, Oregon about 200 mikes upstream from Portland, Oregon.

 

I loaded up my red Ford V8 Convertible with sleeping bags, tarps, banjo, a shotgun and some commissary stuff.

And I was off!

I guess I drove from San Marino up 395 to Reno. Then I drove off the road for the night. I dumped my sleeping bag near the back of my car and went to bed. I never used the tent in those days. I didn’t think it was necessary.

 

I had been up 395 to Mammoth and Red’s Meadow where we took pack trains to Shadow Lake. And had been through the Rockies and along the NW Coast, but never to Central Oregon.

 

Then I proceeded up through Central Oregon and camped another night.

 

Later on my trips back and forth from San Marino to Umatilla, I would find the shortest mileage to be 1300 miles.  I needed three days in that car, but I liked adventuring and seeing Central Oregon, which was all new.

         I was very excited about seeing my new job.

Finally, after three days of camping and adventuring outdoors, I arrived at the jobsite. Well, everything was new and exciting.  So much activity, moving equipment supplies to the job site…

         The only thing was, no one knew I was coming, who I was or what I was supposed to do!  Finally, I found a drafting group and a drafting table and just moved right in!  That’s how you make success of something—just start doing the work!

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Nevill McInerny February 19, 2013 at 10:32 PM
Pete, I loved reading this blog. I used to drive up 395 all by myself either to ski or visit friends at Lake Tahoe. I still can't believe my parents allowed me to do this, but I was pretty independent in those days. I even camped out once along the way and thought nothing of it. Seeing your photo with your banjo makes me think of: "How I love to gargle with Lavoris" to the tune of "How I love the kisses of Dolores". Nevill Dunn McInerny (nevmac@live.com)

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