Library Book Learning Returned Years Later

Two weekends ago my wife and I drove up to Weldon, in the Kern River Valley, where I was scheduled to talk at a luncheon of the Kern Valley Library Fund Raising Committee.

It was a long way to go to deliver a casual talk, but I spent some of my early childhood in Kern County libraries, and I have tried to pay them back.

The luncheon was scheduled for noon on a Friday at the South Fork Women’s Club, in Weldon. We decided to drive up Interstate 5 to Bakersfield late Thursday afternoon, spend the night at the Red Lion Inn, and take my wife’s family to dinner there. I made reservations for a double and for five for dinner.

I was dressed and waiting for my wife to come home from work. Then her sister called from Bakersfield. She had just heard on TV that I-5 was closed by a chemicals spill. That was incredible. The Ridge Route closed? Only snow could do that. I called the Highway Patrol. It was true. They didn’t expect it to be clear for hours. It was like being told the sun wasn’t coming up.

When my wife came home I told her the news. We both felt frustrated. All dressed up and nowhere to go. “Isn’t there another route?” she asked.

I checked my California map. It looked as if one could reach Weldon by going up California 14 through Palmdale, Lancaster and Mojave, then hooking west on California 178 through Walker’s Pass to Weldon. We decided to go.

On the way to Palmdale we passed thousands of new houses bunched closely together on hilltops. One day Southern California will be solid houses from Santa Barbara to San Diego, bypassing the 19 miles of Camp Pendleton. I hope the Marines hold their ground.

We found a motel with a vacancy in Lancaster, had dinner at the nearby Marie Callender’s, retired early and got up at 7. We drove on to Mojave and stopped in a roadside cafe for breakfast. My wife indulged herself with a pecan waffle, and I had sausage and eggs.

Just before Mojave we had passed the Silver Queen mine. In the 1920s my father had been invited to invest $500 with four or five other Bakersfield men to prove the mine. He declined. In the first year the mine made millionaires of every investor. I have always wondered how it would have changed my life if my father had gone in. I’d probably have been a prodigal rich man’s son.

Above Mojave we passed through Red Rock Canyon, one of the most beautiful rock formations in the West. Its colors range from pink to salmon, and, with its great beams and columns, it looked very much like the temples of Egypt.

Above Mojave there is almost no sign of civilization except the inevitable “last chance” gas pump and store. It is invigorating to get away from the crush of Los Angeles and find open spaces so near. Finally we were beyond commuting distance.

We turned west on 178 and rose through Walker’s Pass. Our map showed us that we would come to Onyx, then Weldon. We came to the Onyx sign, then passed two gas pumps with a Union sign and a tiny store. Beyond it, nothing.

“That was Onyx,” I said. “I hope Weldon is bigger.”

We came to the Weldon sign. We passed a school on our right. Two or three houses could be seen high up the hillsides. Beyond the school, nothing.

“I’m afraid that was Weldon,” I said.

Off to the left, behind a loop road, we saw two gas pumps and a store called Paul’s Place. I decided to get gasoline and asked what had become of Weldon. No attendant came out to pump our gas.

“Are you going to pump the gas?” my wife asked.

“You know I don’t know how to pump gas,” I said.

She got out to pump the gas while I went into the store. A woman regarded me suspiciously. “You a salesman,” she asked, “or you lost?”

“I’m lost,” I said. I told her I was looking for the South Fork Women’s Club.

“Go back about a mile,” she said. “You come to a school. Turn left. It’s right there.”

When we got to the clubhouse, we were surprised to find it packed. There were more than 130 women. They had come from various inhabited places in the Kern River Valley.

They served a lunch of chicken salad, I made my talk, and then we drove on through the Valley to Lake Isabella, where we stopped to see their up-to-date new library. I was glad to see that reading was still being encouraged in the hinterlands.

From Lake Isabella we drove down the road beside the turbulent Kern River to Bakersfield, where our sister-in-law took us out to dinner and put us up for the night.

It was better than a trip to Egypt.