[ad_1]
Photo by Robert Burroughs
Tijuana’s Solo Angeles looked like villains from a Clint Eastwood spaghetti western with some anachronisms.
Where the bikes are
I noticed a guy was playing pool and using a broom as a cue. He looked like he was an extra in a movie with a title like Chainsaw Rapists on Wheels, but so did almost everyone else there. He gave me a cool look and went back to his game. There were more biceps and steely looks than I was pleased, and I wondered if my voice would break when I ordered a beer.
By John Brizzolara on January 18, 1990 | Read the whole article
“I went to Fiesta Island when there was a club out there. It was dangerous.”
Photo by Robert Burroughs
Rebels without a motor
“Most accidents are insane accidents. In my view, very few are avoidable unless you don’t ride a bike. Some accidents happen when someone stands there and another person hits them. You know, they’re standing on their bike and a skateboarder is ramming them. I’ve seen all that stuff. If you ride long enough – just like you do on a motorcycle – you have a 100 percent chance of getting injured. “
By Ray Westberg on November 14, 1991 | Read the whole article
In the communal hall, a few brave souls tried the central corkscrew and actually made it, but most were content with riding the less intimidating outer spiral.
Photo by Sandy Huffaker, Jr.
Summer of the flying poodle
Like thousands of other teenagers in San Diegan in the early 1970s, I became addicted to skateboarding. With the money I’d made from my paper route, I bought a set of Chicago trucks and Cadillac wheels, which I immediately screwed onto a roughly-shaped, homemade mahogany board. This was my primary mode of transportation, and I spent many afternoons driving the streets of Coronado with my friends in search of the ultimate terrain.
By Evan Douglas on July 29, 1993 | Read the whole article
15, looking south from Escondido. Up there, traveling is in the fast lane from an average of the mid-70s to well into the 80s.
Photo by Robert Burroughs
The unnatural ecology of a motorway
The decision to build 15 passageways from Riverside was made back in 1965, a logical extension from one military enclave to another. Larson argues that the roots of the interstate highway system can be traced back to General Pershing and his fears that we might not move our troops around the country efficiently enough. “[T]Here was a mistake or an oversight in some of the early laws, and instead of ending up on I-5, the damn thing ended up on I-8.
June 9, 1994 | Read the whole article
Sid Bandak drives. “I’m number 59 out of 650 drivers. We bid on the desired route every three months. And this is one of the few runs that … has overtime. ”
Buses are a bit like bread
“Oh, sure, at the beginning of the month a lot of homeless people are drunk. We’re twice as full. There are more number 7 than any other route. By far. One every six or seven minutes. We have everything here. Tourists go to the zoo. Schools. City College, San Diego High School, Roosevelt Junior High, and Helix High School. We also pass the Blind Center, so we have a lot of blind people who use us. “
By Bill Manson on December 15, 1994 | Read the whole article
As we drive away from San Diego, 23 people are sitting in the upper deck car that I have chosen at random, 21 of them Caucasians. No children, no old people, no shabby clothes, no old-fashioned strands of hair, no tattoos, no men in undershirts or women in lime green polyester, no bread buckets, prison T-shirts.
The autobahn is nobody’s home
Whenever someone tries a new recipe, they bring something to the pool to try. They exchange videos, books, recipes, advice. It’s not uncommon for riders to complain about family troubles during the morning run or talk about work in the evening, and Dorinna makes it clear that the group applies their collective wisdom. When Helen’s mother died of cancer, several drivers decided to pray rosaries for her for a few days on the way to work.
By Tim Brookes on September 12, 1996 | Read the whole article
Did someone call a taxi?
On the knife date, two robbers stole $ 15 from Taheri and attempted to knock him unconscious behind the Safeway in North Park.
There was a strike. Yellow Cab drivers left town in August 1976 and crossed their own picket line in October. The strikers burned down some yellow cabs and attacked some drivers. Meanwhile, they organized their own taxi service and petitioned the city council to end Yellow Cab’s monopoly. The council then created the one-driver companies, each of which created two jobs for drivers. The owners promised changes, some of which came true.
Posted by Joe Applegate on May 18, 1978 | Read the whole article
I finally got to my taxi. It was beautiful, the most beautiful thing on four wheels that I had ever seen! I climbed in and kissed the wheel.
Through the city in seven years
About halfway between Clairemont and Del Mar, the beer, the bologna and the two loaves of bread weighed heavily on our stomachs. It was time for some music. Mexicans, of course. We were in the middle of “I Love El Rancho Grande,” the song that boomed from both sides of the taxi when the border patrol stopped on the right side of the highway with a car full of Mexicans.
By Paul Warden on July 18, 1985 | Read the whole article
Gordy Shields: “A few years ago everyone thought bike lanes were the solution, but now we’re trying to avoid them.”
Photo by Robert Burroughs
Ten gang terror
In 1983, an active young triathlete rode a bike from Poway to Mira Mesa. By car, this trip is on I-15, but bicycles are not allowed on the motorway. This cyclist was traveling down a hill on a front road at about twenty-five miles an hour, preparing to turn. At the same time, a moped was coming up the bike path at about thirty-five miles an hour, preparing to turn onto the main road.
By Steve Sorensen on October 23, 1986 | Read the whole article
The Classic made every other RV look like a moving slum. It had real oak cabinets and parquet floors, electrically adjustable leather armchairs, a VCR, and a television in the bow and stern.
Heaven on wheels
Like most people, I had spent my time on the road, stuck behind a land whale crawling up a forty-mile hill at twenty miles an hour. I’d tried to fall asleep in campsites listening to the roar of a motorhome generator while its owner watched reruns of Gilligan’s Island on TV and strawberry daiquiris mixed in the blender. And I’d seen and smelled the switches where RVs stopped to dump their sewage tanks.
By Steve Sorensen on November 13, 1986 | Read the whole article
The security guard took out his club, but sprayed his partner’s face, the entire rear of the car and finally his opponent during the fight.
Along the tracks
A female ticket inspector and a male security guard get on board at Palm City Station. They work the corridor with a cadence and a rhythm like a kind of dance. When they reach the end of the train where I’m sitting, I recognize them from the fight earlier. “I could see that he loathed himself,” says the ticket inspector of the man she and her partner fought with. “He hated earlier and I could see it come back.”
By Rick Geist on June 25, 1987 | Read the whole article
Refuel on Miramar Road or at the So-Cal stop in National City. When they stop at night, truckers have coffee at Aunt Emma’s in El Cajon or at Denny’s on Miramar Road or Rosecrans Street.
Truck stop story
Hauliers charge 1980 tariffs and 1987 operating costs, and for many drivers the journey is over. At Perry’s Cate, truckers say big bucks goes to the hauliers and brokers. “There is a long line for the good driver jobs and you have to know someone. You have to have connections. You have to pay the brokers under the table. It’s easier to starve at home. I sit on this lot every day, it costs me money. “
By Sue Garson on July 2, 1987 | Read the whole article
Kymythy Schultze: “When you’re stuck in a traffic jam, there’s not much you can do. But at least I can give you an end point that you can look forward to.”
Photo by Robert Burroughs
Traffic problems
“Sometimes when you see traffic is jammed, you can’t see an accident, but you know something must be there. You look for possibly uneven lanes that would indicate that there is dirt on the pavement.” Kym takes a quick look through her binoculars and scribbles a note. “Here we see a block-type thermal power station that is stopping traffic … That is westward 8, east of 15. And it does not cause any problems.”
By Mary Lang on September 14, 1989 | Read the whole article
[ad_2]
Source link
