It was close to the end of summer and the scorching heat was all around. I was excited when my mom told me we were taking the Amtrak train to Los Angeles. I was to be a bridesmaid at one of my older sister’s weddings. I didn’t really care too much for being a bridesmaid or even being at a wedding for that matter. I was just excited to leave Sacramento. I was officially sweet sixteen and at the peak of my teenage years. I wanted adventure; I wanted something new and exciting to do before the new school year started. I knew my sister’s wedding would give me the adventure I was seeking all summer long. What was in store for me I had no clue but my adventurous spirit didn’t care. I wanted to explore the unknown, to see new things and devour all the experiences I could in those two short weeks which the universe was so kindly granting me.
My mom booked us on the Amtrak coastal train route. It was a very long ride, but well worth it I thought. I was luckily to get a window seat before one of my sister’s did. Of course, there was some fighting, pushing and shoving before my older sister had to give in upon my mom’s request. Nothing like hearing the sweet words, “Colette knock it off and give the seat to your sister!” I guess being a middle child does have some advantages. I loved the scenic view, the open land, the hills and seeing parts of the ocean too. The best part was being able to walk around the whole train. It was kind of exciting going from train car to train car with that slight back and forth movement. Sometimes the movement was really bumpy. I remember how I was walking through the changing train door and I slightly fell over and broke one of my fingernails. I was ruined! I no longer had the perfect, long and well groomed red nails. I was so devastated because now I was going to look even more ridiculous besides wearing that awful puffy sleeved fuchsia bridesmaid gown. I mean, come on! I’m sixteen and suppose to look chic not like I rolled out of the 1800s. I was about style and sophistication; I was a Mod with a European twist for crying out loud.
I met some interesting people around my age. I remember one girl, her name was Rebecca. She was from Seattle, Washington going to San Francisco. She was traveling alone. Her parents were divorced and she spent the summers with her dad. She really loved San Francisco and spoke a lot about it. It sounded amazing through her eyes. I had friends from school who use to go clubbing in San Francisco, but I’ve never been, at least not then. The stories I heard from them was very different than Rebecca’s. Hers was glamorous and sounded exciting. But I wondered what it must have felt like to be an only child and being shuffled around between two homes so far apart. I guess I was lucky coming from a large family with parents still together. Even though my siblings at times drove me crazy and how I couldn’t wait to be on my own. I don’t think I would have changed this for the life Rebecca was living.
When we arrived in Los Angeles it was very dark outside. My grandpa was there to greet us. He was very well dressed and stylish. I loved his fedora hat. He reminded me of one of those 1940s actors. He looked a little of bit like Gregory Peck with a Sicilian flair. He was still living on the family homestead in Reche Creek. It was the first time I was there and boy was I surprised. It was definitely nothing like the city. The nearest neighbor seemed miles away. The house was the original house his father built. So it was old and let me tell you there was nothing modern about it. For being the hottest time of the year it surely was cold those nights staying there. We were woken up by roosters and that was so early in the morning. Our breakfast was eggs from my grandpa’s chicken coop with toast. It was actually kind of weird seeing brownish colored eggs. Nothing like the ones my mom gets from the store.
We headed off to get ready for the wedding. There were a lot of preparations in the morning and a rehearsal in the evening. The day was very long and I couldn’t wait to get some rest. We arrived back at my grandpa’s and hurried to bed. Of course it was an early ‘rise and shine’ in the morning with the sound of the rooster. I guess it is better than waking up to an annoying beeping sound of an alarm clock. We hurried and got dressed and left for the wedding.
The wedding was long and boring, but the reception was fun and the food was really delicious. I was assigned to a table with cousins I never meet before. But that didn’t stop us from eating a lot of the almonds from the wedding favors. Hey! We’re Italian and those candy coated almonds are to die for. At least this was a great way to break the ice in getting to know one another. There was good music and who doesn’t love dancing. I tried to really get into the groove, but that old fashion 1800s style dress was making it so hard for me to show off some of my dance moves. Ugh! Talk about awkwardness! Luckily there weren’t any cute non-family member boys there.
The day was definitely long and I couldn’t wait to get back to my grandpa’s house. I knew the rest of the time I was in Los Angeles was going to be fun. I spent three days at Disneyland and did all the rides many times. It definitely took three days just to cover the park. Magic Mountain had the longest line and I swear it felt like eternity just to get on that ride. It was well worth the wait. At that time it was the best ride Disneyland had.
I spent only one day at Knott’s Berry Farm and the rides there were fun too. Not really much going on there, but the food was good. My favorite amusement park that summer was Six Flags because it had the most exciting and scariest ride of all time, the Colossus. That was the original name at the time I went. It was so scary when the coaster was moving upwards. It was an old wooden roller coaster. You can feel the shaking and hear the rattling and clunking sounds as you were approaching the top. I swear it felt like it was going to fall apart. The ride was just scary, but what a thrill. I kept my eyes closed during the whole ride because I thought the wooden track was going to break apart. If I was going to die I surely didn’t want to see any of it happening. The feeling I felt from that ride was the most exhilarating ever. And I couldn’t help but ride it again.
I spent the rest of the time at the ocean. I hung out with my siblings checking out different beaches, but none of them compared to the ones in northern California. There is definitely a difference between northern and southern California. Although I had a great two weeks in Los Angeles, I preferred Sacramento’s less populated and less polluted city better.
The train ride back home didn’t seem as long as it did going to Los Angeles. I guess there is something mysterious about how time seems to go faster when returning home than when you are going somewhere. I slept most of the way back home and dreaded the fact that school was going to start again soon. I couldn’t help but think of the song “Heartbeat” by Wham. Not the full song, just the part that says “another summer another vacation is over”. My summer was over and that lyric part hit exactly how I was feeling at that moment, at that time. It was the end of my sweet sixteen adventurous summer, but the memory is still alive.