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quarts of oil @ 25[[cent symbol]], but it appears to me that Dodgem was beginning to use a lot of oil. And we bought another pair of glasses, yellow this time. But here we were in Denver safe and sound after quite a jaunt. It really was quite an undertaking as I look back,  particularly for Mother, but she apparently was taking it right in her stride.

In Erie just before we left, there had arrived at the GE a Professor Coover from the University of Colorado to spend the summer with us studying railroad electrification matters. I became acquainted with him and when he found out about our forthcoming trip, he gave me some very serious advice about how to drive up from Denver to Estes Park in order to get the most of the magnificent scenery. He said the conventional route was to drive north through Longmont to Loveland where you turned west over to Estes Park. But when you went that way, you drove along mostly through farming country which lay along the foot of the Front Range and it was most unrewarding. The proper route to take to truly appreciate the country, was to drive northwest out of Denver to Boulder, thence swing west to Nederland and then run generally north through Ward to Estes Park. It was the back way but the scenery was fantastic. So we took the professor's advice and everything he said about the scenery was true but what he'd failed to tell us was that the roads, particularly beyond Boulder, were, from our standpoint, utter nightmares. From his standpoint, no doubt, coming from there and accustomed to them, they were quite okay, but we were in for an experience in driving the like of which we'd not had before nor have we even remotely approached since. The drive to Boulder wasn't too bad as I recall but from there to Nederland, a tiny town up in the general vicinity of the east portal of the Moffat Tunnel of the D&RGW, things began to get quite menacing, and from Nederland north, absolutely hair-raising; in fact, it was so bad that I began to wonder seriously if Coover hadn't been trying to pull a dirty trick on us for some unknown reason. This road was one-car wide, gravel or worse, ^[[and]] would along the very edge of awful abysses, and most of the travel was in second or low! There was no protection whatever along the sides of the road and the drops began within a few feet of the edges of the road if not actually right at the edge--and they were [[underlined]] drops [[/underlined]] of hundreds, even thousands of feet in spots. We came to one spot where they were actually doing some work on the road and the detour, which had to bypass [[strikethrough box]] maybe a few hundred feet of road, simply turned off the road and up a terrifically steep two-rut passage that passed through pine forest, twisting this way and that among the trees and over humps and rocks that threatened to stove in the bottom of the car. I was afraid that before we finally dropped down into the lovely valley of Estes Park, Willie would lose her mind. But the mountain scenery was magnificent. In that regard, it was an experience such as I'd never even remotely approached and I was enormously thrilled despite the