1. Portland
2. This 1326 mile length will take two days. Stopping point will likely be Salt Lake City.
3. Colorado Springs (Tina’s dad, Leroy)
   378 miles/5.5 hours
4. Albuquerque (Jan and Tom)
   1010 miles/14 hours
5. Houston (home to Tina’s grandfather, TQ)
   354 miles/6 hours
6. New Orleans (stopping in Baton Rouge to visit my nephew, Wally, for a few hours)
   546 miles/8 hours
7. Jacksonville (stopping in Pensacola to visit cousin Beth)
   139 miles/2 hours
8. Savannah (Mardy and Steve)
   765 miles/12 hours
9. Cleveland (Rock and Roll Hall of Fame)
   344 miles/6 hours
10. Chicago (various sights)
    377 miles/6.5 hours
11. Riceville (stopping in Dubuque to visit my old friends, the Sunleafs
12. This stretch of 1800 miles is a two or three day drive. Stopping points will be dynamic.
13. Portland

That reduces the trip to 12 or 13 driving days. I would expect we would take extra days in Cleveland and Chicago, although we could see the HOF in the morning and drive to Chicago in the evening. We’ll also need several days in Riceville for a probable family reunion.

Wait? What’s that? Someone is spraying me with water.

“What the hell!?!?!”

I think I just woke up Tina. She asks me what’s going on.

“The wind blew the fly off the tent.”

Get up and get dressed. Wait, what was that? Is that someone outside? I better get fully dressed then. Where’s my shirt? Where’s my flashlight. Shit. I think it’s just a shadow. Shorts are good enough. It’s raining hard and all the bedding is getting wet fast.

Unzip the door and go outside. Zip it back up to keep the rain and wind out. Where’s the fly?

Looks like it slipped to the back of the tent. It’s still connected to three corners. OK. Slide it back over to the front and go connect it.

Find the hooks. Oh, this is corner where one of the hooks tore off. That may explain why it came loose. Find the loop and connect the hook. Where is the loop? Fuck! I can’t get the loop. Stop. Think.

Loop the hook line under the stake and attach the hook to the line. OK. How about the support lines for the fly? Where are the stakes? Fuck it. Let’s just wrap it around this cooler and get back inside.

There. Fly is all fixed. Let’s get inside and get back in bed.

Shit! What happened to the zipper on the door? Jesus, it broke again and now the two sides are off by like 4 inches. WTF?!?!? OK, let’s deal with this from inside.

OK, this is better. Nice and dry now. Just slide the zipper back and forth a few times and tug on the uneven side. There, it’s fixed for now. We need a big “X” on this door so we know to use the other door instead.

Can’t slide into the sleeping bag because I’m too wet. Unzip and roll in. Can’t reach the bottom to zip up. Fuck it. I’ll hold it together for the rest of the night.

Now I’ll just lay here for awhile and watch the tent. It’s surprisingly bright from the street light across the way. That wind is unbelievable. The tent is totally rocking. The gusts feel like they’ll lift the whole tent into the sky. Still, I think I can drift off again when my heart stops racing…

Leaves were falling, just like embers,
In colors red and gold, they set us on fire
Burning just like moonbeams in our eyes.

Shit! What was that? Damn. Wind whipped up again. Is the fly still attached? Looks like it. OK. Calm down. Close your eyes. Relax.

And then you’ve ask me… just to leave you
To set out on my own
And get what I needed.
You want me to find what I’ve already had.

“Dad. If you want pancakes, you have to get up now.”

On Tuesday, we left Portland and drove up the Gorge into Washington, headed north to Spokane and then on through Coeur d’Alene. Although we weren’t able to use our new bike rack because of unexpected clearance issues with the Scion, another Scout family had plenty of room for our bikes in their gigantic flatbed trailer. We spent the first two nights at the Blue Anchor RV Park in Osburn.

On Wednesday, we took the long car journey to the head of the Route of the Hiawatha rail trail. Along the way, one of our vehicles suffered a flat tire and one of the boys found a .38 revolver on the side of the road while we waited for the tire change. Eventually we found our way to the trailhead and embarked on the most magical bike ride I’ve ever had in my life. The route is only 15 miles long and entirely downhill. We rode down at a leisurely pace and made many stops to read about the history and enjoy the spectacular views. I can’t recommend this trail enough. It takes very little effort and the payoff is unbelievable.

On Thursday we dropped off the bikers and a few of us drove all the equipment here (to the Wolf Lodge) where we settled in for the rest of the trip. The bikers (including Tina and Thomas) rode another 30 miles on another rail trail from Mullan to Cataldo. That night we celebrated one of the Scout mother’s birthday with chocolate cake, ice cream and homemade dutch oven cobblers. It was a sublime moment of comraderie and fellowship.

On our last day of biking, we drove out to Harrison for an “out and back” ride to Plummer along Lake Coeur d’Alene. Graham only wanted to go 12 miles so we turned around after 6 miles, but Tina and Thomas rode the full 32 miles, giving them a total of about 79 miles for the three days. Because of our slower pace, however, Graham and I were able to observe the local flora and fauna better than the hardcore bikers.

Today is probably the highlight for all the kids as they ride the rafts and rollercoasters. I volunteered to watch over the bicycles and the dog. I’m enjoying the solitude, though, and have been wanting to write about our trip since the second day. Tomorrow we pack it all up and drive home. We’ve been on many scouting campouts before but I think this one has been the best for getting to know the other parents. I’m very glad that we came and I’m quite certain that we’ll be back.

Last week as I chatted with my newly discovered cousin, Beth, I pulled up Google Maps to get a better idea of where she is geographically. Specifically, I wondered how far she lived from my sister, Mardy. It didn’t take long before I realized that a killer road trip could be devised. My first pass at possible destinations yielded this list (see Glossary if you don’t know any of these names):

1. Portland: Our home.
2. San Francisco: Home to Uncle Ralph, Aunt Carol and cousins David and Danielle.
3. Moreno Valley: Home to Maridee, Steve, Trisha and Michael.
4. Phoenix: Home to Michelle, Ric, Xander and Wil.
5. Albuquerque: Home to Jan and Tom.
6. Austin: One of America’s music capitols. Need to find worthy venues to visit here.
7. Houston: Home to TQ, Tina’s grandfather.
8. New Orleans: Another of America’s music capitols. Will probably need a couple of days here. Any suggestions for family friendly spots?
9. Pensacola: Home to Beth and her family.
10. Jacksonville: Home to Mike, Micah and his family.
11. Savannah: Home to Mardy, Steve, Barrett and Kendrick & his family. We should spend at least three days here.
12. Charleston: My old stomping grounds and historic southern city.
13. Washington, D.C.: Our nations capitol. We would want to spend more than one day here visiting monuments and historical curiosities.
14. Philadelphia: A natural follow-up to a visit to D.C.
15. New York: The boys have a long list of places they want to visit here so this might also take a few days.
16. Cleveland: Home to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame
17. Madison: My cousins Dee and Jon live near here.
18. Riceville: My little hometown where my 25th class reunion will be held in 2010.
19. Colorado Springs: Tina’s cousins, Natians and Kelly live nearby.
20. Salt Lake City: Much maligned but beautiful city.
21. Portland: Our home.

If taken in this order, this list represents at least 20 days of driving alone, never mind any time that we might like to spend in some of the cities. Even if I was able to get four weeks of vacation, that would only leave 7 days of non-driving time to spread around the whole trip. So let’s try a revised list of driving destinations:

1. Portland
2. This 1326 mile length will take two days. Stopping point will be dynamic.
3. Colorado Springs
   378 miles/5.5 hours
4. Albuquerque
   841 miles/12 hours
5. Austin
   511 miles/8 hours
6. New Orleans (stopping in Houston to visit TQ for a few hours)
   546 miles/8 hours
7. Jacksonville (stopping in Pensacola to visit Beth and family)
   139 miles/2 hours
8. Savannah
   573 miles/9 hours
9. Washington, D.C./Philadelphia
   431 miles/7 hours
10. Cleveland
    345 miles/5.5 hours
11. Chicago
    377 miles/6.5 hours
12. Riceville
13. This stretch of 1800 miles is a two or three day drive. Stopping points will be dynamic.
14. Portland

This list makes for some long driving days, especially at the beginning and end, but our boys are easier now on long trips than when they were younger. So that makes about 16 days of driving or less if we care to have some really long days.

As I recounted earlier, snow and car accidents kept us from completing the final leg of our long journey home. We stayed overnight in Redding, CA, hoping that we would be able to make it home the next day.

I woke at 4:30 am for an early morning reconnaissance mission up Interstate 5. When I reached the exit where we had been forced to turn around the day before and found that the roadblock had been removed, I concluded that the road was open and turned around. When I got back to the hotel, we roused the boys and departed Redding with no breakfast.

We hit the first snow as we ascended near Mount Shasta. About this time we noticed that we had acquired a small crack in the windshield on the passenger side. At first it wasn’t visible from the inside, but as we climbed we watched the crack grow! While we watched over a thirty second span, it stretched at least two more inches towards the center of the windshield. I turned down the defrost and it seemed to stop for the moment. It would continue to grow in fits and starts throughout the day whenever there were major differences in the inside and outside temperatures.

We had not put on the chains but we wouldn’t need them yet. A snow plow was less than half a mile ahead of us and when we reached what appeared to be the summit, he exited and headed back down from whence we came. At the same time, a snow plow from the other direction turned around at the same exit and blazed a trail for us going down.

Once we got back down to where it was raining, we stopped at a gas station to get fuel for the Scion and snacks for us. Since the pumps were covered by a canopy, I decided that it would be a good time to put on the new chains since we were certain to hit snow again at the Siskiyou Summit which was about 10 miles away. Unfortunately, my clever plan did not work as well as I would have liked. Because I had pulled to the forward-most pump, the front of the car (where the chains go on a front-wheel drive car) was sticking out from under the canopy. I had on the new raincoat which Tina had given me for Christmas and it worked perfectly, but my sweat pants were soon soaked as I struggled to put the chains on. Putting on chains requires quite a bit of knee-to-pavement contact, especially when one doesn’t know what he’s doing.

Unbeknownst to me, not all tire chains work the same and these were very unlike the set that I had bought and mastered for the van. Parts of the directions seemed vague until I was nearly done. When the meaning of “hooks up” became obvious, I removed the chains and started over again. After struggling with them for at least 45 minutes, we were finally ready to roll. I remembered the extra pair of dry pants from the night before and changed into them before we left. Now things were starting to fall into place!

It wouldn’t be long, though, before we began doubting our decision to chain up early. Driving the car over 45 mph caused a horrendous sound to come from the tires and Thomas pointed out that the directions said you shouldn’t drive over 40 mph with the chains. So we bump-bumped along for ten miles before we started seeing signs of snow. Soon, though, we felt good about our decision as we passed people trying to chain up in the cold. There were even entrepreneurs who were charging a fee to chain up other people’s cars. We drove right by the whole mess and continued on up to the pass.

There were no snowplows in sight this time but we traversed the pass at full speed (i.e. 40 mph) nearly the whole time and it was only about 45 minutes before we crossed the state line and descended into Ashland. After a delicious breakfast in Ashland, Tina took over the driving for the rest of the day while I napped. When I woke up Portland loomed in the distance and we faced afternoon rush hour on a Friday afternoon. It was only fitting, though, as it had seemed that the last hour was always the longest of each day of our entire journey.

We awoke Thursday morning with the intention of driving all day until we were home. After breakfast with Rob at a nearby restaurant, we embarked on what we thought would be the final leg of our long journey. Once again I navigated us out of the city and then handed over driving duties to Tina for a few hours while I napped.

When I awoke it was mid-afternoon, we were exiting Interstate 5 and I observed that there were a number of semi trucks parked on the shoulder. Although we were stopping for gas and food, we soon found that we would be waiting longer than we wanted. Despite my bleary state, I did think to ask “Are we north of Redding yet?” to which the answer was “Yes”. Just north of Redding is Mount Shasta and then the Siskiyou Pass at the California/Oregon border. Both are above 4000 feet elevation and can get snow during the winter months.

According to the truckers at the restaurant/gas station, such was the case on this day. There was also an accident reported and, as a result of these two factors, Interstate 5 northbound was closed at the next exit. We tuned to a local AM radio station that is broadcast by the California Department of Transportation who confirmed this information and also reported that chains would be required for all vehicles except four wheel drive. Anticipating that we would almost certainly need chains, Tina bought a set from the gas station at an outrageous markup. We had a long lunch and decided to try our luck again. We spent about an hour in bumper-to-bumper traffic and were eventually directed onto the next exit because the road was still closed.

Once we were southbound again, we drove back to Redding and hunted for a hotel. Since Redding is slightly west of the interstate, we had to drive around a few minutes before we found a hotel. We found a great old motel with a pool and a nice old lady at the counter. While I waited for her to complete the paper work, I observed a Post-It note on the counter which said “Hot tub is out of order.” I jokingly mentioned it and said that I had really been looking forward to using it. She told me that the only problem was a leaky ceiling and we could use it if we didn’t mind getting wet. We both had a laugh over that.

Once again I unloaded the bags from the top of the Scion and the boys helped me haul them into the motel room. It was not long before I realized that the thin tarp we had put over the bags was mostly ineffectual. Not only had the wind worn holes in it, but all of the suitcases also got wet on the bottom where there was no protection from the rain. My new books had gotten wet and would eventually warp but all the electronic stuff was safe inside their little bag. We’ll need a better rooftop solution for our next trip.

While looking for the laundry room, I found the hot tub, which was the size of a very small pool. I showed the boys and we resolved that the first thing we did would be to have a soak. It proved to be incredibly relaxing and fun with the Tina and boys as all the stress of the day melted away. After 45 minutes, we retired to the room while Tina resumed the search for the laundry room. She was successful and also reported that the nearby restaurant was due to close soon so we should get in there while we could. The people there were really nice and served us one of the best road meals of our trip. Tina was in and out to the nearby laundry room while we ate. She washed and dried a change of clothes for everyone as well as an extra pair of pants for me. Everybody was incredibly upbeat when we returned to the room but also relaxed with full bellies. In no time at all we were all asleep in anticipation of a very early wake up.

Tina’s only “must-see” in southern California was the La Brea Tar Pits in the middle of Los Angeles. La Brea was closed on New Year’s Day so we visited it on our way out of town. Despite the fact that their gift shop is full of dinosaur memorabilia, nobody has ever found dinosaur bones at La Brea. In fact nothing older than 60,000 years has been found there.

Outside the museum we watched the methane gas bubble up in the little lake and marveled at tar pits that had only recently appeared in the grass. As I repacked our luggage in the roof rack, I asked Tina if we should use the tarp. A passerby in the parking lot asked where were going. When we told him “Oregon”, he said that we were headed into a big storm and that we should definitely use the tarp.

It took forever to get back onto the freeway but we did finally see that elusive “Hollywood” sign. After grabbing some Thai food, we finally found the freeway and began the long drive to Redwood City in the Silicon Valley to visit my friend, Rob, whom I’ve known since my first day as a freshman at Wartburg College.

Predictably, we were behind schedule and the drive took longer than expected, so we didn’t arrive at Rob’s until evening. Even so, we spent several hours with him playing on his PS3 (Ratchet & Clank, Guitar Hero 3), watching David Letterman’s first show since the writer’s strike started and just talking. Finally, at 3:00 AM, Rob, Thomas and I retired because at least two of us had a long drive ahead of us the next day.

Despite our late night, we were still able to rise early and head north to Rosemead where we stayed at a Motel 6 that we would soon dub the Roach Motel. Tina thought she killed the roach in question, but he either came to life again or he had friends. It didn’t matter much, though, because we didn’t hang around there long.

After lunch we drove to downtown L.A. where we got on Pico Boulevard and drove west towards Santa Monica for about an hour and a half. Along the way we stopped at a Mexican bakery for some goodies.

Once we got close to Santa Monica, we turned south to Venice Beach where we once again watched the sun set over the Pacific Ocean while the boys dug in the sand. I had intended to arrive earlier and rent skates on the boardwalk, but the boys were more than happy to just dig and play in the waves. After it got dark, we dragged the boys to the car and convinced them to put their street clothes on while I held towels from the Roach Motel around them.

After finding dinner at a California healthy food restaurant, we asked the boys if they wanted to drive north to Hollywood. “Hollywood? The Hollywood?” Graham asked. Twenty minutes later we walked up and down Hollywood Boulevard looking at the names on the stars on the Walk of Fame. We saw the handprints and footprints by Grauman’s Chinese Theatre and then bought tickets for the Hollywood Wax Museum and the Guinness Book of World Records Museum in a two-for-one deal. The Guinness museum was disappointing but the wax museum was fun, even if we couldn’t always recognize the stars depicted. During the drive back to the motel, we searched the dark hills for the famous Hollywood sign but did not see it.

My original intention in going to San Diego was to show my family some of my old haunts as well as seeing some of the tourist sites. With the family already anxious to head home, I trimmed the list to three: San Diego Zoo, Coronado Beach and the San Diego Chicken Pie Shop.

We were able to get to the zoo shortly after opening and saw nearly everything that we wanted. I even rode on the “Skyfari” with the rest of the family to get us to the exit when everyone was dead tired. It was terrifying for the first half of the ride but went by quickly once I could see the end of the line.

After the zoo, we zoomed over the Coronado Bridge to the beach where the boys literally dug in for the remaining daylight hours. We watched the sun set over the Pacific Ocean before dragging the boys to the car where they changed back into their street clothes while I held my hoody around them.

We drove back into town and nearly drove past the “new” location of the Chicken Pie Shop (they moved shortly after I left San Diego in 1990). Graham thought it sounded like a terrible idea until he took his first bite of their trademark pie. Unfortunately, they had raised their prices since the last time I had been there in 1990. back then you got the chicken/turkey pie, whipped potatoes and gravy, roll, vegetable and dessert for $5.25. Over the last 17 years, they had raised the price to $6!

We drove by my old apartment and stopped at “my” old Ralph’s grocery store for champagne and Martinelli’s. Otherwise, I hardly recognized any of my old stomping grounds and even got lost in my old neighborhood. During the half hour drive back to the Poway Ramada, I realized that I now understand the phrase “You can’t go home.” It’s never the place that you remember. Everything changes including the people.

We spent the last hour of 2007 begging our children to let us off easy by celebrating the New Year early, but they insisted on staying up until midnight. We toasted to our good fortune and everyone collapsed in bed by 12:05.

We woke early the next morning with the intention of getting to Poway in time to check into a hotel before meeting my friend, John and his wife for brunch. But a tour of Curt and Annette’s surrounding land made us lose track of the time. Curt showed us where they saw white clouds of smoke rolling over a nearby hill last year prior to evacuating their lovely home for a week. Luckily, the fire turned in another direction and their home was undamaged.

The boys really liked running around outside and we were all amused when Timo solved the mystery of the blue lichen. We were all reluctant to leave but friends in Poway awaited and we were running a little late.

We drove directly to John and Lisa’s house, where we enjoyed a delicious brunch that Lisa had prepared. John’s sister joined us and we caught up on all that had happened since they had moved from Portland several years ago. John showed us how his python had grown to over four feet long and Graham got a close-up view of the big snake. Thomas did not faint while the snake slithered about as he had done years earlier when John showed us the same snake in Portland.

A couple of hours later we checked into the nearby Ramada Inn which would be our base for the next couple of days. Originally we had planned to check out the San Diego Zoo in the afternoon, but the reality of winter sundown made us decide to relax in the hotel for the rest of the day. That evening we searched in vain for a some local dining but were not in the mood for Mexican food so we settled on a trip to KFC. Graham remarked that it was the “best meal we’ve had.” I don’t know that I agree with that but it did really hit the spot that night.

We woke up Saturday morning anxious to start the homeward leg of our trip. Our destination was Julian, CA where my old friends, Curt and Annette, live. The drive was only supposed to take about six hours so we got a relatively late start after having a leisurely breakfast with the Powell’s.

After we crossed the California border, we headed south on Highway 78 where we saw miles and miles of cotton fields. Soon we were surprised to see favorite Fox vacation destination Glamis on the mileage signs. It was about this time that I began to notice an astounding amount of broken glass on the side of the road. The broken glass continued until we reached Glamis, which I can only describe as a small city made up entirely of RVs and sand-eating recreational vehicles. Thousands and thousands of people occupied the east side of the road as we drove by. The west side of the road was astoundingly pristine and is evidently protected from those who traverse the desert on rubber. As we drove by, we sent a text message to my niece, Trisha, who was there with my sister and the rest of her family. They begged us to stop, but we had a bit of a schedule to keep and I did not relish the thought of sand filling the inside of the Scion once we opened the doors, so we drove on.

A few hours later we missed a turn and inadvertently drove north to the southwestern shore of the Salton Sea. While we were there we found a beach composed entirely of sea shells and fish bones. We marveled at the scores of dead fish before getting back on the road.

Our detour delayed us enough that we watched the sun set over the Anza-Borrego desert as we drove west to Julian. Navigating the hills into Julian was tricky in the dark but we rolled up to Curt and Annette’s house in time for a delicious tapas dinner with them and their 6-year-old son, Timo. After dinner, our boys showed Timo the finer points of internet gaming while the adults settled into conversations about old times, new books and mutual interests in music.

Woke up to a beautiful Southern California morning and drove into an even more beautiful afternoon in Scottsdale, AZ. When we arrived at Tina’s sister, Michelle’s house, Grandpa Tom fell into the pool while playing ball with cousin Xander. We spent the next several days with Michelle, her husband Ric and their boys, Xander and Wil. Thomas and Graham loved the time with their cousins and it was good to see Michelle, Ric, Tom and Jan again. We had a wonderful Christmas together and our boys experienced their first-ever Christmas morning gift opening.

Jan and Tom left after a couple of days so that we parents could have a wild night of wine, music and debauchery. We also reveled in the High Definition TV and Uncle Ric gave an impressive demonstration of their excellent home theater system.

When I emerged from the bathroom after my shower wearing shorts, Tina asked why I was so under-dressed for the weather. I exclaimed, “I’m going to Southern California today!”.

After I navigated out of the East Bay to Interstate 5, Tina took over and drove most of the way through the California Central Valley. We had a late lunch at In-n-Out Burger, home to some of the finest fast food in the country. When I asked a young man who was waiting for a seat if he would like mine, he replied, “That would be bitchin’!”

A few hours later we arrived at my sister, Maridee’s house in Moreno Valley, CA. My mother had arrived a few days earlier and my brother-in-law, Steve had spent the afternoon deep frying a couple of turkeys for a pre-Christmas family feast. The boys opened more Christmas presents and then we retired to the Fox RV for a restful night’s sleep.

Left Medford and drove to Aunt Carol and Uncle Ralph’s house in Lafayette, CA. Carol made delicious vegetarian chili and we were joined by Cousins David and Danielle. After dinner, we took the dogs for a walk on a local multi-use path and saw some cool Christmas lights. After talking books for a bit, I traded my copy of The Professor and the Madman for Ralph’s copy of My Name Is Red. Before bed we all exchanged gifts and Carol gave everyone a CD for the road.

We departed Portland in the afternoon and drove to Medford. Our jump start on the trip proved to be less fruitful than we wanted due to afternoon traffic — it took over an hour just to get out of Portland. In Medford we stayed at a Motel 6 and looked forward to a short driving day on Saturday.

The distribution of destination points worked out such that we never had more than a 8-hour day of driving until the end of the trip. Less driving and more visiting and exploring made us all dread getting into the car a little less. Tina brought her portable DVD player and the boys watched the Indiana Jones trilogy when the drive got too long. I brought books but I never did any reading in the car since I was either driving or sleeping.

I started to write a summary of each day in this entry, but it turned into an incredibly long read, so I’ll be breaking it into a series. Watch this space for a day-by-day rehash of our journey to Arizona and back.