Odometer Reading: 1025

I’d hoped to take the Pacific Coast Highway down to my sister’s, but after talking to Uncle Dennis and my brother-in-law Will, they convinced me that it was foolhardy to think we could make it down there in one day. It would slow-going and expensive, two things I didn’t really want. So, instead, we rose early and got back onto my least favorite highway: I-5.

Eight hours later, we rolled into Los Angeles swarming with people and pollution. Just being in LA makes me a little insane and I’m sure the kids were completely baffled by the dramatic rise in my stress level, but the highways just mix and mingle and get all backed up and I feel like I might just lose my mind. I’m sure it has to do with the fact that I’m the driver; I didn’t stress out in Bangkok, Hanoi, Boston or New York City, but I never had to drive there. In LA, I really feel like I’m gonna blow my top. Music turns off. Kids keep quiet and my knuckles turn white on the steering wheel.

In-n-Out all the way

On the southern side of the sprawl, just before we hit Orange County, we stopped for food. Stuart and Audrey have never had the joy of eating at In-N-Out, a lovely step back in time for anyone who enjoys a burger. Of course, being wheat intolerant these days, I stuck with french fries yet again (starting to abhor them). Despite their limited menu (and my even more limited options), In-N-Out has got to be one of the best fast food places out there. I still prefer Burgerville–because, really, what can beat rosemary or sweet potato fries–but this place is a close second. And the kids are believers, too.

By 4 p.m. we were rolling into a parking spot outside my sister’s home; her daughter safely returned ten days after they parted ways in Portland.

Lilyana was thrilled to be on home soil again

Odometer Reading: 878

Moving everything up a day, we decided that we’d visit the Monterey Bay Aquarium while staying in Gilroy since it was close enough and besides, then we wouldn’t have to pull out all that camping gear yet again. So, for an hour I bugged the kids to get up and at ‘em, hoping they’d be a tad more excited about seeing what is supposed to be one of the world’s best aquariums. We managed to get out on time, though and headed further west to the ocean.

California beaches aren't what they're said to be

Unfortunately as we reached the shore, there was nothing great to be said about it. It looked remarkably like an Oregon beach: cool, grey, cloudy and it stank. Luckily, we weren’t going for a day of sunbathing, we were there for the aquarium, but it sure would have been nice to see the supposedly-beautiful California beaches that people ramble on about.

But the aquarium was wonderful with plenty to see, including all of this:

sand dollars

one of those crazy Leafy Sea Dragons

Spotted Jelly Fish

You'd have thought this guy was related to us...

Little bitty baby rays, growing in their egg/pod...way cool

We made it through the entire place in just under four hours, perfect time for our parking meter. Money was running out, so we did the dollar menu (which turns out to be a dollar-eight menu with tax) and drove back toward Gilroy. Stuart was interested in checking out Hollister and I wanted to see the mission, so we decided to do both. We had a few hours to kill and unless I got madly lost, we’d make it back in time for dinner with Grandma, Uncle Dennis, Aunt Jackie and Jackie’s mom, Theresa.

artichoke

First we had to stop at Pezzini Farms in Castroville, supposedly the world’s artichoke capitol. Unfortunately, they weren’t any sort of ‘great deal’ despite being fresh from the farm, so I only bought a small pack of them. I wanted to try the french fried artichoke hearts, but they didn’t seem to be offering that day. I may have to just try it at home instead.

Past Castroville, we took the turn off for Mission San Juan Bautista, a mission founded more than 200 years ago in 1797. The museum wasn’t all that informative unfortunately and the heavy Catholicism was startling, so it wasn’t a long visit. We joked about the grills big enough for people and enormous tallow vats, but I’m glad the kids haven’t seen “Fight Club.”

that's one big book

a big ol' cactus

when Hollister still seemed interesting

As all teenagers (and most of the under-30 population, I’d guess), Stuart has seen the Hollister brand grow rampantly popular and with that background and a schoolmate who moved to Portland from the city, he wanted to see this place. What was this Hollister that was so famous, so wonderful that people decked themselves out with its name across their chests? Who knows. It’s a tiny podunk town that is mostly inhabited, it seemed, by immigrant farm workers. Cute little downtown, but nothing to be so proud about. Still not sure how Hollister the brand got so popular but it certainly wasn’t because the town is worth visiting.

Lilyana, Grandma, Audrey and Teresa

We made it back to Gilroy (despite my worries that I’d get us lost out there) in plenty of time for dinner and a visit with Grandma. She remembered Lilyana and her mother (my youngest sister), which surprised and enamored me. So sweet. She talked with Audrey about horseback riding and Stuart reminisced over the knick-knacks she had around her apartment that had decorated her home when she lived in Newberg. I just loved being around her. I’ve known Grandma since I was just 15, when I met Brian (the kids’ father). She embraced me into her family then and despite the divorce and distance, she has treated me as kindly as ever. I cannot possibly explain how much I appreciate her kindness, except to say that I truly love this woman, despite the fact that we aren’t technically related. She’s wonderful and I’m so glad we were able to take the time to come visit her. It’s not so easy these days to see one another, but I want the kids to remember her fondly always. And I want her to know she is loved.

Grandma!

Odometer Reading: 738

There was no rush to hit the highway again, so we took the morning as it came: repacking our bags and then the car. Every time it’s like a game of Tetris, making sure that each piece fits as tightly as possible into the previous bags with no gaps. Somehow we got it all back in and by 11 a.m. we were pulling out the driveway of Aunt Diana’s place and heading to I-5 yet again.

If you’ve driven I-5 in Oregon, you know how green and beautiful it can be, trees nestled up to the highway’s edges and mountains in any direction it seems. Let’s just say that California’s I-5 is nothing like that. Here it’s dry and brown and barren and flat. In other words, beautiful for about 10 seconds then as boring as all get out
for the next 200 miles.

barren and boring

We stopped somewhere along that golden highway to take photos, a viewpoint with this sign designating it as Orestimba, Dry and hot, the kids didn’t want to stay long and I can’t imagine why anyone would live out there, but apparently they do. The flatlands are sprinkled with farm houses and plots of irrigated fields. Still not for me.

Lilyana and Audrey kung fu-style

The drive to Gilroy, as I may have mentioned, was pretty boring, but we listened to a couple episodes of our new favorite podcast, Radiolab to kill the time. And at the rest stop the girls came up with their own entertainment–using the car door as a funhouse mirror. I checked out the map to figure out how many more miles of dry grass fields we’d have to get to see and they took pictures of themselves in all sorts of poses. Stuart just waited, patient as always.

Stuart at the San Juan Reservoir

Somewhere near Gustine we left I-5 and headed due west, then up and over the coast range. And there in the middle of it was the San Juan Reservoir, the blue reflecting from the sky and creating a truly stunning visage. On a fluke, we decided to drive down to Dinosaur Point which put us right into the water. Only later would we find out that the road we’d take used to be the main highway through the mountains. Now its path is covered with the water of the reservoir. There wasn’t a soul or a sound down there besides us and the wind.

We stopped at a Sonic before getting somewhat turned around by Google’s not-quite up-to-date driving instructions, but we managed to find Uncle Dennis and Aunt Jackie just down the street. They’ve been hanging out in Gilroy, at the RV park, for a couple months now, taking care of Grandma Coates–a woman I love more than I can explain. She was the reason we were all here. Well, except Lilyana… she didn’t really have a choice.

Now since we had an extra person in our family, there wasn’t enough room in either Dennis’ truck or my car for everyone, so (lucky for me) the kids got into their truck and I followed, alone at last, in the car. Most peaceful five minutes of the trip thus far. Over the next two days, I loved those drives to Grandma’s home–my own choice of music and no one complaining.

Great Grandma (center) hanging with her friends

When we arrived at Grandma’s place, a studio apartment in a residential facility, she was a bit cross. Why didn’t we come earlier? Why didn’t I call to say we were coming? She didn’t have time to talk, she asserted, it was dinner time. We’d caught her at her social hour and there was no time to show pictures, give updates, sit and chat. Nope. She had to get to the dinner hall to meet her friends. We’d have to come back tomorrow, she said. And so we escorted her over and left her with her good friends.

So Dennis took us out for pizza dinner, the kids went swimming at the RV park and we hit the sack early. We’d have to be up early to get to the aquarium when it opened and we had to be back to visit Grandma in the afternoon.

our family of four

After not getting to bed until after 11 p.m. and having spent the entire day either walking or screaming, we were all exhausted. I couldn’t even bear to wake the kids and let them rouse on their own schedules. By 11 a.m. everyone was awake again.

It was also nearly 100°F outside. Somehow we’ve landed in Sacramento during their first real extended heat wave. Awesome.

So outside fun wasn’t really an option and staying inside with the A/C on and the windows closed is about as boring as it can get on vacation, so we decided to hit the movie theater.

Of course, this sounds like an easy solution to the problem of what to do, but now we had three kids and two adults from three families who had to come to a consensus on which movie looked best. Not an easy task. Inception? Eclipse? Last Airbender? Despicable Me? The Sorcerer’s Apprentice? You name it, someone wanted to see it. The most family friendly of all won and in the afternoon we went to see Pixar’s Despicable Me.

It wasn’t terrible and, in fact, everyone giggled, laughed and chortled their way through it just fine. Not the best of Pixar by far and it left us wondering why the “bad guy” had to have a Russian accent (wasn’t the Cold War over years ago?). There’s a lot to pick apart in it, but the little ones enjoyed it. So did Aunt Diana for that matter. I think maybe I’m just jaded.

the expansive interior of Wal-Mart

The afternoon was spent doing not much of anything. Watching TV. Writing in my journal. Phoning friends. Stuart put together Aunt Diana’s vacuum cleaner and later her pressure washer (that she’s held on to for three years without assembling). Oh and a visit to Walmart. Exciting stuff.

Taking a picture of Aunt Diana taking a picture of Lilyana and Audrey

He's got mad assembly skills.

When I was just barely six years old we moved from Sacramento, CA (near my father’s family) to Newberg, OR (to be near my mother’s family). I don’t know how soon it started, but it became a tradition that nearly every summer, I would go down to Sacramento–first with just Marcella, then when Stephanie was old enough, the three of us–to stay with Grandma. We’d visit Aunt Carolyn and Uncle Carl. We’d go stay with Aunt Diana for a few days. And they would take us places: parks, the Sacto zoo, Disneyland once and several times we went to Marriott’s Great America.

Back then it was owned by Marriott, the hotel chain, but after several name/owner changes, it is now called California’s Great America. I have some fond memories of riding the rollercoasters and the freefall ride, the carousel that greets visitors and being there with family. So, when my Aunt Diana, who was hosting us in Sacramento, asked whether we’d like to go to Six Flags Discovery Kingdom or Great America, the decision was easy for me. We all went to Six Flags on our last big California trip in 2002 and there was something nostalgically wonderful about Aunt Diana taking another generation, my kiddos, to the same park we’d enjoyed twenty years ago.

We woke early and started getting food packed into the cooler, gathering extra clothes, sunblock and plenty of waters. The day was expected to be hovering around 100°F again and the idea of staying out in it all day, wasn’t making either of us adults too happy, but figured we’d prepare for it as best we could.

Aunt Diana and the kiddos

It’s almost a three-hour drive out to Santa Clara from Sacramento, long enough for a needed bathroom break. The kids picked the exact right time to ask for it, too. We’d planned to pick up Subway sandwiches for an early lunch for the kids and when we pulled off to find a bathroom, what did we see? A gas station/Subway combo. Perfect. Everyone used the facilities and ordered sandwiches. Well, except me and my lovely gluten intolerance… I grabbed a banana and a granola bar. The temps had dropped dramatically from Sacramento, down to the mid-80s. Lovely for walking around in the sun.

It was nearly 11 a.m. by the time we got to the gates of the park and took another 20 minutes to figure out how to get the UC discount owed to my aunt. Thankfully it worked and the price went from nearly $54 to $30 each person because I’m not sure what we would have done otherwise. Neither of us had the money but we’d driven hours to be there. Needless to say, it was a bit panicky there for a second.

Stuart not caring, Lily hellbent on winning

Everything worked out wonderfully, though, and the kids all got the chance to ride on the rides they wanted to. We started out with the carousel, of course, then moved on to watch other people take crazy risks and then we got brave. First it was a tiny little ride, just whipping around in a circle, called Berserk. That reminded me that I like these rides despite my hesitation. We rode the Grizzly, a wooden roller coaster, and the Demon, a coaster that does two 360° flips and a corkscrew. Audrey, Aunt Diana and I had a ball, but Stuart didn’t care for the coasters much. He was a sport though and rode the kiddie rides with the little ones and gave us quite the show on the swings. The kids played in the water, we rode the log rides (even after it got stuck!) and overall, had a great time. By the time we left at 8 p.m., we were wiped out. As we walked back in the dimming light, I noted how grateful I was to have taken notice of which aisle our car was parked on. Then as I looked around, I realized we hadn’t parked on aisle L, as I’d thought. We’d parked in lot L. It took us a while longer to find the car than I was expecting.

Pics from the day…

awesome

We were sprinkled, but hoping for soaked.

Really, they were having a good time. I swear.

They rode everything, including the baby rides.

By 7 p.m. exhaustion had set in.

Odometer Reading: 367

As soon as the sunshine slipped through the trees, I got up, rolling my sleeping bag and getting the kids to walk up and do the same. I had hoped that the chill of the morning would keep the mosquitoes at bay for a while, but, again, as soon as I opened the trunk with all our bags of clothes, they were all over me. So, while the kids did their things, I got the food back into the car, then their sleeping bags as they ran for the safety of the car. Stuart and I broke down the tents, not bothering to clean them off or even get them into their cases. We just shoved them into the trunk; I’d take care of them when we hit Sacramento.

Lily at the roadside breakfast; Scoop Away=portable kitchen

Still dressed in their pajamas, we left Crater Lake National Park and drove south toward Klamath Falls. Along the way we passed long and shallow Klamath Lake. According to our Only in Oregon book, it’s more than 20 miles long and 8 miles wide. Somewhere past the lake and past the city proper, we pulled off onto a side road for breakfast. There, in the gravel, we pulled out our kitchen box and the ice chest. The kids ate cereal and I prepared another round of hot cocoa on the propane burner. It was all fine, despite Audrey’s worrying that we’d get in trouble. In fact, the electric company guys waved as they drove by. As we ate, falcons flew above us to their nest.

Remembered by the kids as Butt Valley

The drive was long with stops to see the Butte Valley sagebrush and rest Audrey’s tailbone (the result of a coccyx break several years ago). We drove over the California-Oregon border and claimed no fresh produce. I still driving to California with my parents as a teen and having the border patrol ask us about fruit. My mother chirped up about the apples we had and the fellow said we could either throw them away or eat them now. We ate them as fast as possible and I had the burps for miles. I learned my lesson all those years ago and brought only dried apples this time.

Lilyana, a bit teary-eyed after hitting her eyebrow on the car door

For miles though northern California, we watch Mt. Shasta approach, then stopped at the viewpoint for better pictures. There were dozens of wildflowers and enormous dandelions that I picked for the girls. One of them appreciated it. The other was mad for some reason or another.

We stopped for gas and silly paraphernalia in Weed, then the kids napped and I drove and drove, heading down I-5 into the heat of the Sacramento Valley. We’d had the lovely temps of mid 80s and low 90s over the past few days, but as we came into Sacramento the thermometer just keep creeping up until it stopped at 108°F. Somewhere along the way, we’d stopped, when the kids had all awakened, to dump water over their heads. Worked better than the A/C.

the glory of Mt. Shasta

I lived in Sacramento as a young child and made the return trip to visit my grandma, aunts, uncles and cousins every year for the next dozen years, so driving down I-5, then onto Hwy 99, I was flooded with memories of that drive. I remember being a child and being so excited to see the walled highways of the city. I knew we were close. And once we pulled off onto Mack Road, I knew exactly where we were…just blocks from Grandma’s house. Or as the kiddos kept reminding me, Aunt Diana’s house.

gotcha Audrey!

We pulled into her driveway at 4pm and there we stayed, playing in the sprinklers before heading to Costco for more pizza and car snacks. It was a slow night and for that I was grateful. Tomorrow’s gonna be a big day.

More pics…

roadside hot cocoa

California's boring welcome mat

Lilyana tossing water at Stuart in the car

Odometer Reading: 174

Despite turning the heat on the yurt (what a lovely invention) it was still a bit chilly in the high desert when we woke up sometime after 7 a.m. I made some hot cocoa for the kiddos (cooked on the propane burner instead this time!) and found an intriguing entry in our copy of Only in Oregon, a rock garden out near Bend. Of course, the book didn’t have an address for the place and my map didn’t list it and I couldn’t just Google it. But my sister could. So I called her up, she searched it, read me the driving instructions and I wrote them in blue Sharpie on the only paper I could find, our now-empty food bag.

pointless pretty path

With Stuart as my navigation guide, we managed to drive straight to Petersen’s Rock Gardens. Thankfully, Google got this one right because there wasn’t a single sign until we got to their street, then it was only a small plywood sign propped against the fence.

this bridge ain't fallin' down

Petersen’s Rock Garden turned out to be a highlight of our time in eastern Oregon; we spent more than an hour looking around at all the creations that Mr. Petersen constructed nearly 50 years ago. There were bridges and buildings and water ponds and fountains and lots of miniatures houses, mansions, and churches. The kids thought it was great and were willing, even though I resisted, to run through the sprinkler to get to the small island in the middle of a lily-covered pond. The array of rocks was astonishing, with obsidian, cinder rock, and petrified woods, among many, many others that have names I don’t know. The strangest thing about the place? The forty peacocks they have that wander the property, yelling what sounds like “Help!”

the kids found innovative ways to entertain each other

We drove down the Old Bend-Redmond Highway toward Bend, merging onto I-97 somewhere along the way then stopped for a bit o’ pizza at Pizza Mondo in downtown Bend.

We had to stop at Safeway and while there, I listened to the voicemails that had piled up; unfortunately, it wasn’t all good news. Seems as if despite the letter of intent I’d signed back in May, and the reassurances from everyone, I won’t be working at MLC next year. I’ve been re-assigned to Grout Elementary School, a decision that leaves bewildered and infuriated. A large part of the reason I do this job, with an annual salary of less than $20K, is because I get to work at my kids’ school. I don’t want to work at another school; I love working in Special Ed, but without the perks of being near my kids, the idea of working so hard for so little, leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. So, second day on vacation, I find out that my job search (which began in June for fear of this happening) has just intensified dramatically. Now I get to stress about it for two weeks while pretending to have fun on vacation. Awesome

the other Three Sisters

After filling up at the Fred Meyer gas station we hit the road, driving south toward Crater Lake. The kids got a brief lesson in directions via the Three Sisters mountains. We kept them on the right, following the Cascades south toward the historic Mt. Mazama.

snow in July? we're all perplexed

Climbing the mountain road, the temperature began to drop out of the 90s and we were able to roll down the windows and stop breathing our own recycled A/C air. Then we saw the snow. The paradox of warm air and snow was both strange and wonderful and all the kids took the first opportunity they could to get out and start flinging snowballs at each other.

Together, the four of us walked up the hill to the first viewpoint of Crater Lake; It was so huge and the water was so blue that it seemed almost unreal. It was stunning and I couldn’t help but wonder what it would have been like to be one of those first people who stumbled upon this lake on top of a mountain. And I can’t believe that it took me 34 years of living in Oregon to finally see Crater Lake. Now that we’d made it, we did the usual: took photos posing in front of Wizard Island, running the ash through our fingers and stomping around in the snow with shorts and flip-flops.

the amazingly blue and still Crater Lake

As we drove around the lakes, we stopped at other viewpoints and learned new bits about the place. It’s more than 1900 ft. deep at its lowest point. There are actually three cinder cones in the lake, but the only one we can see above the water is Wizard Island. Pets have been know to jump over the barrier and fall to their deaths. And those little chipmunks aren’t chipmunks at all, they’re Cascade golden-mantled ground squirrels. That last fact still baffles me.

Our campsite was on the southern side of the mountain, still within the boundaries of the National Park which, by the way, cost $30 just to enter the grounds. Mazama Village is a campground/RV Park/convenience store/gas station/restaurant combo that I found online and made reservations. Despite the reservations, it took more than a half hour waiting in line to finally check-in and get our campsite. And when we finally drove the car to the very end loop, to our site, we couldn’t even get out to cook dinner; it was over-run by mosquitoes. Having lived in a tropical country, I’m not really freaked out by mosquitoes anymore: I’ve seen a lot of them; I’ve had my fair share of bites. But Vietnam was nothing like this. They were everywhere–batting them from our faces and off each others’ backs.

can you find the 8 mosquitoes trying to bite Audrey?

The mosquitoes literally swarmed on the car and it felt a bit like that scene in Jumanji as the they tried getting in through our windows. Each window would have a dozen or more of them, wishing they could have at us. We all ventured out, but when I opened the trunk to get out the tents and sleeping bags, the little blood-suckers came in droves. In a mad rush, Stuart and I threw up the tents while the girls climbed back into the car, killing the ones that had followed them in. We dropped the sleeping bags just outside the tents, I shoved the food into the bear box (last thing I needed was a bear coming into our camp) and ran back into the relative safety of the car.

It was past six and the kids were hungry, but there was no way in Hades I was standing out there to boil rice and heat up sauce I’d brought along. No way. Our only choice in the middle of the wilderness was the Mazama Village restaurant. If it would’ve been me, I’d have snacked on trail mix until the next day, but I had three kids to feed and the trail mix/granola bar menu was wearing thin on them. So, I sucked it up and bought them dinner, a one-price fits all buffet. So much for saving money by camping…dinner cost an astounding $65.

view from the rim

ancient gas chimneys

Depressed by spending a tenth of our total budget on one meal and horrified by the idea of spending the rest of the evening in our tent listening to mosquitoes buzz around us, we decided to take a scenic drive. The 33-mile loop around the lake would, I figured, take at least an hour and by then it’d be closer to bedtime. And that’s just how it worked. The scenic viewpoints were seen from the car since those darn skeeters had taken over the entire park by now, but it didn’t seem to matter much. Along the way, we decided to follow the signs down to the Pinnacles Overlook, a seven-mile diversion from the loop and well-worth it. These spires, or pinnacles, were created by hot gases trying to escape the earth at the time of the eruptions and the heat caused the surrounding ash to solidify into stone and over the years,the erosion has exposed them. Now there are dozens of them down there. They’re strange, yet beautiful in their own strange way. At the Pinnacles, the bugs were decidedly less prevalent, so we wandered down the trail and got a magnificent view of some pinnacles with the sun, low in the sky, behind them. Lovely, but the camera just couldn’t deal with the intensity of the sun’s light. As we drove down the side road to the Pinnacles, we saw a pine marten running across the road. I thought it was a ferret then a fox, but Audrey knew what it was, thanks to her field trip to the John Day Fossil Beds.

By the time we’d looped around and made it back to our campsite it was just past 9 and time for bed. I hopped out and stood by the tent as each kid jumped out of the car and ran into the tent with their sleeping bag, then I quickly zipped it shut behind them. Getting Stuart in, I could hear the girls clapping the mosquitoes to death. I climbed in last, sleeping with the girls and we killed off the last of them before lying down to sleep. Of course, I had a root in my back and neither girl had grabbed a bottle of water like I’d asked, so I had to run back out to the car to get one for them. Somewhere along the way, a mosquito bit my eyelid, but I wouldn’t know until morning.

suitcase/bag/sleeping bag version of Tetris

We’d been planning a road trip since last summer and I got the crazy idea that we’d merge it with a visit from my sister’s family. So when my sister flew home, she took only her son, leaving her daughter for us to bring home via our meagerly planned road trip. So today, we loaded up the rental car and started driving south, then east.

a small part of the Deschutes National Forest

We drove south to Salem and then onto Hwy. 22 over the Cascades to eastern Oregon, stopping to check out the information kiosk about the B&B Complex Fire. Seeing the vast number of burned trees in the Willamette and Deschutes National Forests awed all of us. Come to find out, ninety-thousand acres burned that year (2003) and seven years later, their grey trunks still stand, an eery forest of ghost trees. Hill after hill was covered by the sticks, reminding me of Mt. St. Helen’s eruption two decades ago.

In Sisters, we finally got to stretch our legs, stopping at Sno Cap Drive-In for ice cream and french fries. Spendy for my cheap nature, but worth it. The blackberry shake had hunks of berry in it and they even have their own version of fry sauce. Old-fashioned decor and thick, creamy ice cream are their hallmarks and it was a well-liked break from the road.

home sweet home for one night

We’d reserved a yurt at Tumalo State Park way back in March, when I’d first decided that we had to go camping again. Nine summer ago we came out to Tumalo, renting the yurt right behind the one we had this time. The kids had then been tiny things–only 3 and 8 years old–and I’d been so scared to drive them so far from home, just me. And now, all these years later, we are camping there again, but this time with three kids: Stuart, now 17; Audrey, now 12; and my niece, Lilyana who is 9.

Stuart cutting purple taters after setting the table

While Stuart cut potatoes and onions, I took the girls down to the river to splash ankle-deep in the frigid water. After a half-hour they were still going strong, so Stuart and I swapped places and he joined them down at the river while I finished cooking the potatoes over the open fire. By the time they’d finished, the soyrizo I’d added had turned into little black pebbles and it was deeply infused with the flavor of smoke, but everyone ate. Now, when I cooked the hot cocoa over the open flame and it came out smoke-flavored, that wasn’t such a hit. Audrey and I drank it anyway, but Lilyana just couldn’t get past the pieces of ash floating on the top of her cocoa. We used it instead to put out the fire and went to bed.

More pics…

Lilyana was impervious to the cold

it took an hour, but we cooked 'em over the fire

what could be better than grilled ice?

We’re nearly ready to head out on our way to eastern Oregon this afternoon. Of course, we have a few last minute things to finish, but on the whole we’re prepared…

with a color-coded map so Stuart can be my map reader/sidekick,

mapping it out

cards with driving instructions, and others for the campground reservations,

when you're out of printer ink...

and journals for the girls, Audrey and her cousin Lilyana, to keep notes, drawings, and all manner of kid-art in.

homemade journal

As the trip draws closer, things have changed. Sort of like my life. I plan with high hopes, but things never seem to work out like I wish they would. And so it goes with our summer vacation. What originally was us getting to see the Grand Canyon at long last, will now not even put us in Arizona. We’d planned to couch-surf our way through a few places and one by one, others’ plans have changed and we’re left without a place to stay. And with the little money I have, we need all the free places to stay as possible. So it’s with a bit of sadness and frustration and the slightest bit of anger that I cross the Grand Canyon, Mesa Verde and all the Utah national parks off my list of things to see.

Road Trip 2010

Instead we’ll be spending two weeks in California and Oregon. It should look something like this with stops in Bend, Crater Lake National Park, Sacramento, Gilroy, Monterey, Solvang, Los Angeles, Riverside, Yosemite National Park, San Bernardino National Forest and Redwoods National Forest.

It’s close to 3000 miles total and even though we’re taking two weeks to do it, Google says we can make it 2 days and 7 hours. I guess what that really means is that I’ve got something like 60 hours of driving ahead of me. There are going to be some long days on the road, but interspersed with enough fun stuff, I hope, to keep the kids happy and me sane.

So yesterday I hit the local library and picked up some audiobooks for the drive. With what already have in my audiobooks file (thank you, audible.com!) we should have plenty to listen to:
* The Funny This Is… by Ellen DeGeneres
* Your Inner Fish by Neil Shubin
* In Defense of Food by Michael Pollan
* Musicophilia by Oliver Sacks
* The Next Thing on My List by Jill Smolinski
* The Help by Kathryn Stockett
* Going Solo by Roald Dahl
* The Lost City of Z by David Grann
* The Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum
* Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator by Roald Dahl
* The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion

I was thinking we might be able to get through the whole Harry Potter series over the two weeks, but the library didn’t have them. So instead, we’ll get a mish-mash of fiction and non-fiction, youth and adult.

Hopefully it’ll drown out any sounds of arguing from the back seat.

We’re bringing my niece along for the bulk of the trip, returning her to her parents (my sister and her husband) in Los Angeles. Should be lots of fun to spend so much time with her; since she lives so far away, we don’t get to see that side of the family often. In fact, it had been two years between visits (we’d been in Vietnam last summer when they visited), making it extra nice to be together again. But it also means that for the next two weeks, I’m the mother of three and I never liked being outnumbered by kids.

I pick up our rental car on Wednesday morning and we’ll hit the road at noon. Wish us luck; with my history of things not working quite right, we’re going to need it.