About Chris Draper

After a few years, the family was just up Rural Route 611 from Doylestown, PA. In the  early ‘70s, it was just a blip on the map, until it became the future birthplace of pop rock artist Pink in 1979.  

With my mother being born in England, my first true adventure was from NYC to  London at four years old, departing from the historical TWA terminal at JFK. This trip  started it all.  

Road trips became the vacation of choice every summer: to Upstate New York to visit  grandparents, to Lake Ontario to fish from the dock in front of the cabin and from  Grandpa’s Chris-Craft, followed by every major city on the east coast of Canada. As a  young child, the Sault Ste. Marie International Bridge driving home seemed to go on  forever at 2.8 miles.  

In the winter of 1976, my father came home from work in a major snow storm driving a  1968 Chevy SS396 Camaro and asked if it was time to move to someplace warm year round…the target: California. Mom drove a 1967 Chevy Chevelle SS427, so the drive to  elementary school on the country back roads was always an adventure during snow  season.  

My parents bought a motorhome and a small trailer, sold everything they owned, and  hit the road on a rainy Saturday. The morning of August 16, 1977, the news broke that  Elvis had passed. We were 20+ miles east of Memphis that morning. Highway 55  heading south to New Orleans was bumper to bumper with headlights on as far as the  eye could see traveling north to Graceland. As a teenager in a motorhome with an  unobstructed view, the Lake Pontchartrain Causeway bridge at 23.83 miles long was  one of the best parts of the move west. Texas from east to west seemed like its own  country, and a close second to the bridge was the lights of Las Vegas at night, and the  sheer size of the Hoover Dam. We didn’t live on Rural Route 611, passing 14 corn fields  on the way to elementary school, anymore. 

A few weeks later, we walked to the end of the Santa Monica Pier…we had arrived. Off  to Disneyland for the first time, and a month later, my father was offered a senior  management position for a major electronics distributor in the early days of Silicon  Valley.  

Northern CA became my playground in the late ’70s with my parents and the early ’80s  with high school friends, ranging from water skiing on Lake Oroville, Lake Berryessa,  Lake Shasta, and the California Delta. I also explored Yosemite National Park in the  spring and summer and snow-skied at most of the resorts in Lake Tahoe during the  winter.  

The night of high school graduation, my father took a VP position for the same  company he worked for in San Jose, but this time in Orange County, CA. I stayed in San  Jose for almost a decade. Most people don’t remember the date, October 17th, 1989,  but they remember the event: The ’89 World Series, Dodgers vs. the Giants. I had just  sat down to watch the game on TV, with dozens of friends and co-workers at the game,  when it hit. Then a 7.1 magnitude earthquake occurred. The epicenter was 56 miles  south of Candlestick Park and only 18 miles south of my home. We lost 3 feet of water  from the condo’s community swimming pool. It was quite a ride to remember!  

Looking back now, I realize a career at Apple, Dell, or HP would have been a good  option, but who knew? I followed my parents a decade later with a great job  opportunity to Southern California and a new wife. South Orange County and  Huntington Beach, a.k.a. “Surf City USA,” became home for 30+ years.  

The wife became the ex-wife, added a “baby mama” a decade later, and one  outstanding son. Tried it all once; now it is time to become a solo traveler in my early  60s. First destination: Bangkok, Thailand, in June 2026.