Life's A Beach

Wednesday August 13 , 2014

LIFE'S A BEACH

So today we are up early.  We all love the beach and can't wait to get there on this gloriously warm, sunny day.  Up to this point, it has been mostly sunny but quite chilly but somehow today it is perfect sand between the toes weather.  Rob goes to pick up the rental car, as we are not crazy enough to lumber around the narrow country roads to the beach in our behemoth.  Rob returns with a you-know-what-eating grin on his face.  Our car is an exact replica of the one on Breaking Bad.  I have to be told this by my husband and son because I can't watch that show; I'm too much of a lover for that kind of violence.

Walter White Skrzypczak

It's a pleasure to ride in something so compact for a change.  The winding roads meander through fishing villages that are quite pretty.  I'd like to tell you about the conversation we have in the car, but both teens have their headphones in and Charlie has his head out of the window like the family dog as he struggles with carsickness.  We are glad his head is out of the window.  We decide to stop and procure a picnic lunch at a very shady-looking gas/convenience store.  For two intelligent beings, we often make surprisingly bad decisions.  It takes almost forty minutes for our order to be filled.  In the meantime, we watch a parade of 'regulars' march in and out, food in hand.  I was not feeling the love.  But then...I found a liquor section in the back!  We are out of gin (I KNOW!) in the RV and so I pick that up, as well as some local wines, just for fun.  Finally, our orders are done and we head off, fish and chips in hand.  Also salad because we are going to be in swimsuits and salad makes you skinny...NOT!

We arrive at Crystal Crescent Beach around noon.  It is a short walk from the parking lot (past the outhouse) and onto a white sand beach, surrounded by scrub pine and huge rock formations.  There are a few people there already and more making the same schlepp as us.  The water is Caribbean blue.  "Is it warm?"  Charlie wants to know.  Well, what do you think?  After poking our toes in and ascertaining that we are very far north of warm, we decide to eat.  

Is Peter aware of this impending doom?

Apparently not.

Do not be fooled by the color of this water.

Fortified, we decide that we must take the plunge.  Note to Mom:  we do not wait 30 minutes.  I stop at the edge, watching Charlie and Rob go bravely forward.  It's not the cold that has me though.  There are red jelly fish and lots of them.  I stand and stare.  Then, something amazing happens.  A young girl picks one out of the water, flip-flops it back and forth in her hands a few times, then casually throws it back in.  Hmmm.  I surmise that these red jelly fish do not sting.  Okay.  Deep breath and then...oh wait.  I have the waterproof case on the GoPro.  It's named (adorably) the Floaty Bac.  By the time I retrieve it, Rob's out of the water and Mary's going in.  I run and plunge, as that's the only way to do cold water, then decide to test out the camera's underwater capabilities.

My own Little Mermaid.

Pretty cool, huh?  It also did video, but this platform doesn't seem to support that but if you go to a sink right now and splash around a bit, you'll get the full effect.

After our swim, the slugs tuck in for a nap in the sun while Mary and I decide to go for a hike to explore the other two beaches in the park.  On our way to the third one, we meet a petite blonde lady in a killer bikini.  She's gotta be at least sixty.  You go girl!  She stops us to ask where we are going.  Good thing.  It turns out the next beach is a nude beach.  We don't want to know the country that intimately, so we thank her and turn back, receiving odd stares from those heading toward us.  Crisis averted.  Later in the afternoon, Peter disappears for quite some time.  I wonder if he found that third beach?  

On the way home, we stop at a market and pick up fresh haddock.  The freshest, as it comes right from the Bay of Fundy.  I grill it with some lemon and butter and we eat like kings.  It's actually sweet!  After dinner, we have s'mores by the campfire and then waddle into the RV.  Tomorrow we are having lunch and a bit of shopping in Halifax and then heading to our penultimate destination:  St. Johns, New Brunswick.

The smile says it all.

Yes, Honey, Coffee IS That Important.

Tuesday August 12, 2014

So, we got up a little late today.  Rob has some work to do and Mary and I are feeling the effects of sitting in the RV and eating...EVERYTHING IN SIGHT.  So we decide to go for a walk around the campground.  As I said before, Shubie campground is located in Dartmouth.  You literally drive through a suburban neighborhood, filled with Brady Bunch type houses, into a cul-de-sac and that's where this thing is.

Inside, there are two lakes connected by a canal.  The canal is in bad disrepair, but there is a pretty trail that leads by it and there are informational signs along the way.  At the other end of the canal is a lake with houses and boats bobbling around.  There are lots of dogs being put through their paces by owners who no doubt realize that a tired dog makes for a happy campsite.

While we are gone, Rob finds out the bus schedule into Halifax.  He tells us they pretty much leave every twenty minutes, so we head up there, passing a man who looks exactly like a Leprechaun.  We spend the rest of the walk speculating as to where his pot of gold is and what we could do with it.  Number 1 answer:  get a hotel room.  Anyway, as it turns out, the buses leave not every twenty minutes, but at twenty past the hour.  Harumph.  You know, there is even less to do at a bus stop than than you might think.  Charlie recounts the entire plot of two YouTube videos, with dialogue.  It was every bit as entertaining as you might imagine.

Needless to say, we do not get into Halifax until close to three.

 By the time we get off the ferry and find our way up the hill toward town, it's coffee time.  Yes, that's actually a designated time of day for Mary and me.  We're jonesing bad.  Siri says there's a cafe on the way, so we stop there, which requires incredible patience on the part of my history loving hubby.  He can't wait to get to that old fort.  The coffee is amazing, which makes up for the indifferent service of the Frenchman behind the counter.  The boys load up on pastries and so we sit for a few minutes, which is all it takes for them to inhale all 2,000 calories in front of them.

Rob leads us on a run up the vertical street to the Citadel.  I'm surprised no one throws up.  He's a little testy with us until we get there and find out it closes an hour later than he thought.  I have to admit, it's a very interesting place with plenty of exhibits that are informative and child-friendly.  Outside, there are spectacular views of Halifax and the surrounding water.

Inside, there is a GIFT SHOP!!!  I love gift shops and so do the kids.  Here are some photos of us trying on silly hats:

I really should have bought that one.  I think it would make Red Zone duty much more interesting.

We also make a stop at a real record store so we can demonstrate to the kids why they are called 'albums' when they all come in digital form.  My father-in-law loves Nana Mouskouri.  He also thinks I look like her.  So I make him a montage of the surprisingly complete collection at the store. 

For me, it is all roses and sunshine.

After all that history, we are hungry.  We decide to eat in a place called The Five Fishermen.  It has awesome history.  At one point it was a morgue!

Pretty spooky, eh?

Anyway, it also has awesome food and mediocre martinis.  I think martinis are strictly an american thing.  Also, the glass has a lipstick stain on it (ewww) and then when I unroll my napkin, it has one as well.  Was I being haunted by the ghost of some glamorous Titanic casualty?  From the reaction of our waiter, I gather these things happen with some frequency.  All that aside, we have a wonderful dinner.

Charlie and me...

We cab it 'home' to our waiting RV.  It's pretty late and tomorrow we are going to the beach!

Sorry to leave you hanging!

Hi all you wonderful readers!  I apologize for not entering the remaining posts yet.  I personally enjoy blogs more when there are pictures.  Unfortunately, my laptop died recently and that's where all my pix of the trip live.  I will finish my story when I can figure out how to access them.  Please check back soon if you want to hear the rest!  And as always, thank you so much for reading!

Monday, August 11, 2014

When I was a little girl, my father, a generally mild-mannered man, occasionally totally lost it with my sister, Elaine and me.  It was in those moments that he inevitably threatened to kick us "all the way to Halifax."  I guess in his Navy days he had at some point anchored at the port there and in his mind it remained a symbol of a place far-flung enough to exile naughty children to.

A Halifax brochure.  The port is in the upper right photo.

Anyway, today, I am very excited because I am finally going to set foot on that fabled ground.  But first, we have to get there.  Let's see...Google Maps says it will take about three hours.  So, using our newly developed RV logarithm, that means we should be there by Wednesday.  But first, my husband declares he needs coffee before we can do anything, so we stop at a little general store on the way out of town.  Have I mentioned that Eastport, Me. is an amazing place?  Well aside from being beautiful and aside from an apparent law that everything must be delicious, it also seems that chivalry is mandated there.  As Rob fills up our gas tank, I head into the store with Mary.  From the other side of the RV, I hear a little cry of "get donuts, too."  Really?  Oh, alright.  Now, picture this scene happening anywhere in our vicinity:  one man approaches the door, but steps back to allow us to go ahead of him; from inside the store, another man sweeps the door open and steps back to allow us to pass through; at checkout, the man in front of us insists we go first.  Is this Disneyworld?  I half-expect little bluebirds to come out of nowhere to carry our coffee and donuts back to the RV.  In our neck of the woods I have literally had men cut in front of me and let the door slam in my face.

Back on the road, we pass the spot where we are exactly halfway between the North Pole and the Equator.  There's a sign and a bench.  I want to stop for a picture, but we really can't waste any time if we want to get to Nova Scotia before it's too dark.  We are already a day late, having found it difficult to leave the beauty of the Seaview.    

A little bit about where we are going and why I feel slightly apprehensive about the next campground.  We will be staying in a town called Dartmouth, which is a suburb of Halifax.  The campground is in a city park on Lake Charles.  In other words, it's a bit like pulling up to the Kennedy Onassis Reservoir in Central Park and setting up camp.  I read reviews on Trip Advisor, as well as Good Sam (an RV resource) that were quite a mixed bag.  I think one either loves it or hates it.  My thinking was that everything is within walking distance or accessible by bus, so we would not have to maneuver the beast around quaint Halifaxian street.  Also that there would be much to do outside the campground, so we could treat it like a cheap hotel room in a nice city.  Just for sleeping.

That's where we're headed.

Of course we are running a little low on necessities, so we decide to look for a Walmart once we clear the Canadian border.  Why wait?  Well, we're not quite clear on what we can and can't carry over the border.  I would hate to start our Canadian adventure out with a record.  My handy app confirms that Canadians are just as crazy for giant boxes of cereal and cheap decor as Americans and my map lights up like a Christmas tree.  As we approach Dartmouth, we decide to stop at the next location we find which is...ten miles ago.  So we stop at a grocery store which is very luxe.  It reminds me of a Whole Foods in its set up and also the word 'ORGANIC' everywhere.  Also everywhere:  photos of Jamie Oliver's grinning puss.  His products are in every aisle.  I'm surprised it's not called Oliver's Kingdom.  One problem is they don't carry wine.  I  KNOW!  We are almost out and cocktail hour is looming in the near distance.  I ask the checkout clerk for the nearest liquor store and she looks baffled.  Clearly she has never driven 900 miles in an RV with three kids.  No worry.  I'll find one.  It's one of my superpowers.

Our steadfast GPS guides us smoothly toward our destination.  He is confident.  He is reassuring.  He is wrong.  We pull up the street our campground is supposed to be on and it turns out to be a tiny dead end.  The children fall silent.  We all come to know at the same time:  we will have to back out.  But we are not just backing out onto a quiet street.  It's a two-lane, very busy street at rush hour, and did I mention it's on a curve?  Well, there's only one thing left to do.  I get out and try to stop traffic with my bare hands.  This is not one of my superpowers.  After jumping back to the curb and out of the way of speeding cars, one finally stops.  I wave and grin like an idiot as Rob backs this crazy 32 foot behemoth out.  Cars coming from the other direction stop, and onlookers get in on it, as well.  I can practically hear the sweat dripping from my brave husband's head.  When we finally get into our lane and on our way, there is much horn beeping and waving from our 'helpers'.  What can we say?  We like to spread good will.

We do pass a wine store on our way to the campground, but by now, we just want to get there and get out of this crazy vehicle before we cause anymore trouble.  At any rate, I feel wine may not be strong enough tonight.  We check in and are given our WiFi passwords, which Rob and I immediately dismiss.  One hasn't worked yet.  Here's what our site looks like:

Pretty nice, huh?

We all hop out and set up camp, a well-oiled machine now.  The kids retrieve items from under the RV.  I set up the kitchen and bathroom.  Rob hooks us up and starts a fire.  Once we are settled, I make a nice cold gin and lime and Rob cracks open a beer.  He chats up the German couple next to us while I make sausage and peppers on my little stove.  We try to eat dinner at the picnic table, but for the first time in our trip, we encounter mosquitos and so we retreat indoors.  However, after dinner, it's time for s'mores and there is no mosquito big enough to keep Charlie from that kind of gooey goodness.  At least by the fire, they don't really bother you.  Also, I found this amazing natural repellent that smells like vanilla and citrus.  It's called Skeedattle and you can get it on Amazon.  And no, I don't get anything for saying that.  Just wanted to share.

Magic campfire.

Well, tomorrow we are going to explore Halifax and the Citadel.  And this guy:

He really seems to love his job...

Is That A Whale? (Or should mom step away from the Twizzlers?)

Sunday, August 10, 2014

Another unspeakably beautiful day dawns and we are up and at 'em.  We have a light breakfast and putter around camp a bit.  We can sit in front of the bay and watch for breaching whales and porpoises, but they are not inclined to come close enough for us to get a good look. No matter, today is our whale watching adventure.

We decide to have lunch at camp (don't get excited; it was only sandwiches).  Of course, between Reluctant Charlie and slow moving teens, we end up late and Rob runs ahead, with a full backpack, no less.  As it turns out, lots of people are late also, so no harm done.  We board the Ada C. Lore, a Chesapeake Bay Oyster Schooner built in 1923 and find a seat.  It's supposed to be a three hour tour (I'm sorry if that put the Gilligan's Island theme into your head) so we haven't brought snacks or drinks as we were told we could.  Looking around at the picnic baskets and coolers, I wonder if the others know something we don't.

A 3 hour tour, a 3 hour tour...

5 hours later....

Yes.  Yes those other folks did know something we didn't.  Apparently, those whimsical captains sometimes extend trips on the fly if there is a lot wildlife showing itself.  I look around, envious of the folks around me toasting the sunset with plastic cups of wine and cans of beer.  Also, Charlie is not amused.  

It gets significantly colder as we clear the cliffs and head into open water.  For some reason, the air smells like licorice (No, it is not the Twizzlers.  Those are cherry).  On the bright side, we do see whales, porpoises, eagles and ospreys, as promised.

Thar she blows...actually more of a slow float.

We also see this cool lighthouse called the East Quoddy Lighthouse.  The most photographed lighthouse in the world, we are informed.  That doesn't seem like much of a claim to fame, but I guess with sonar and gps and all the modern technology available to ships these days, you have to take your fame where you can get it.

The last site we see is The Old Sow.  Not the restaurant, but the thing it's named for:  the largest whirlpool in the Western Hemisphere.  It doesn't look like a big drain, like I thought it would.  Instead, it's more like a series of swirls in an unruly circle.  On the way back, we slow down to have a look at an eagle in his nest.  There is a dude on the tour with one of those cameras that has a 3 foot lens on it.  He probably has a better picture of Mr. Eagle.  However, as he is looking through that fancy camera, his toddler is busy getting entangled in the ropes of the sail.  So there. 

When we finally dock, we are all chilled but pretty excited to have seen all the whales and we're also hungry from being out on the high seas all day.  Oh, okay, we're always hungry.  So it's back to the campground for one last lobster feast.  This time, there is no lobster envy for anyone.  Tomorrow:  Nova Scotia!

Charlie gives Eastport his seal of approval.

Under The Rainbow

August 9, 2014

Rob moving the RV so it's even...JK!  It already was even.

So, once the rain clears, we are treated to a rainbow.  

It was prettier in person.

All our neighbors come out to wonder at it and that's how we meet the dude next door who tells us he started a winery down by Cape May and then sold it. He does not offer us wine.  I leave to make dinner while Rob chats him up.  First things first, though.  I pour myself a nice martini in a Red Solo Cup with plenty of ice and go to work.  One of my favorite bbq recipes is to add honey to Heinz 57 sauce.  I toss chicken thighs with the sauce while Rob gets the coals going in the wood fire we already have.  Another toy we got was a portable grate which you can stick into the ground and then adjust to any height.  It also swings around to go off-fire so you don't kill yourself getting the food off.  Why bring our own?  If you are asking that question, you've never contemplated cooking your dinner on a rusty, food encrusted hunk of metal at a public campground.

Unfortunately, the weather has other ideas and from across the bay, another threatening set of clouds approaches.  These ones look like they really mean business.  I turn on the oven, just in case, but the clouds stay obediently over the water until our chicken is done.  I also throw a few (unshucked) ears of corn directly into the fire.  Meanwhile, I make yellow rice inside the RV like a civilized person.  We eat at our picnic table, with a view of the bay and a beautiful sunset.

Another example of my fabulous GoPro skills.

The kids retreat to watch movies on their laptops and Charlie dives into his book.  After clean up, it's time for a visit to the washroom, which was very clean.  It's nice to have the bathroom in the RV, but it's REALLY small.

This photo is actual size.

As you can imagine, exhaustion takes over and we close the curtains and fall into our pillows.

Can We Move Here?

Saturday, August 9, 2014

Remember the toys I bought for our trip?  The GoPro camera was one of them.  I practiced with it.  Read the manual.  Watched the tutorial...

Me trying to turn it on.

Is it on?

I don't think it's on.

Well, there you have it.  Payback for all the times I've made fun of my mother for not understanding technology.  I have about a hundred stills just like that one.  The thing about the GoPro, in my defense, is that you can't see what you're filming until you play it back on a computer or iPhone later.  Just saying.  

Anyway, as you can see from the pix, it is an absolutely gorgeous morning on the Bay of Fundy.  I make bacon and eggs and our carb-loathing daughter makes pancakes for her brothers.  She has one of her Magic Bullet concoctions involving fruit and protein powder that people who claim they like running seem to enjoy.

We bribe Charlie into action by telling him we are going into town for lunch.  We neglect the part about the almost two mile, hilly walk we are taking to get there.  By the halfway point, he is not amused.  He bucks up a little when we get into Eastport, ME.  It's a picturesque little town with a harbor and shops and restaurants.  Because it's low tide and the Bay of Fundy has 30 foot tides, the piers all look absurdly high off the water.  After a quick survey of the waterfront, we head up to lunch.  

These are the smiles of girls who just ordered a lobster salad and a fish taco.

Charlie goes bold with a lobster pizza and french fries.  Peter and Rob copy our orders.  Now it's time for me to have food envy.  The lobster portion on the salad is stingy.  Of course, now that I've been spoiled by 2 pounders, I guess anything is going to seem paltry.  

After lunch, we wander around town, poking in and out of shops filled with nautical paintings and weathervanes.  After briefly considering one for the top of the RV, we decide to head home and pick up some groceries for dinner on the way (yes, I know we just ate, but that's how we do).  Mary and I spy a cafe and our Stabucks deprivation kicks in.  We peel off from the boys but are disappointed to find its hours are 10-2 on Saturdays.  Really?  Don't people go out here?  How do they stay awake? The sign in the window adds insult to injury:  Winner! Best Coffee on the Bay, 2014.  

We meet back up with the boys and, on a whim, decide to sign up for a whale watching trip the next day.  Peter speeds back without us, his teenage patience for family time nearing its end.  It starts to rain, and he ends up stuck outside the locked RV till we get back, but still happier than he would have been with us.  

At the grocery store, a man with no teeth informs the veterans outside, who are collecting money for the VFW, that Mary and I are "eye candy."  They ignore him, but he finds us inside the store and continues his pitch.  I ignore him also.  The last thing we hear is him telling the checker that his wife gets mad when he tells her she's "eye candy."  I think he could probably use some new material.

Dinner is a whole other story which I will continue next time.  

Hello, Eastport!

Friday, August 8, 2014

We start off the morning with cereal all around so we can leave--or "bug out" as I had come to think of it--early.  The term is a military one for packing up quickly and leaving a location.  Oh, MASH!  The things I learned from you.  Between securing all our stuff (more about that later), sweeping out the RV, and emptying the dreaded black/gray water, these mornings had the feel of a military operation.  At 7:30, our neighbors sit in their outdoor 'cocktail lounge' smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee.  Rob gives them our firewood because you're not supposed to bring out-of-state wood to campgrounds.  Something trivial about non-native bugs crossing state borders and decimating forests.  They are bewildered.  After all, it's Friday and the party's just starting.

Our route takes us through Southern New Hampshire which is very old-fashioned beachy.  We pass fish shacks and boat stores and tons of fast food places.  We finally get up the courage to stop for gas when we see a huge Getty station looming on our right (no awkward over-the-lines left--YAY!).  There's a BK sharing the parking lot and although no one in our family is a fan of it anymore, we decide to grab a quick lunch so we can get back on the road without stopping again.  If you have never ordered a salad at a rural fast food place, you should.  It's worth it just for the look of total incomprehension on the server's face.  You want a what?  Is that even on the menu?  Needless to say, Mary and I eat our grilled chicken 'Caesar Salad' with grim determination and Peter does not fare much better with his 'buffalo wings.'  We should have stuck with the burgers like Rob and Charlie.  After all, it isn't called Salad King.

After a long slog on Route 1, catching glimpses of water here and there, we arrive in Eastport around 6:30 PM.  Once again, Google Maps has lied to us.  The check in building is also the onsite restaurant called, The Old Sow.  In my opinion, this is a terrible name for a restaurant, but no one is asking my opinion.  They are all busy salivating over the menu which features freshly caught seafood like lobster and haddock.  Also, something called Lobster Strudel which sounds all kinds of awesome.  Under the description is this bit of hubris:  We are the only place that has this and it is well worth the wait.  What a statement!  I guess it's well worth the $18 price, as well.

Peter and Charlie being cooperative at set up.

We decide to set up quickly and then eat.  As we approach our site, a chorus of 'wows' issues from the back of the RV.  Spread before us is the magnificent  Bay of Fundy at low tide.  It should smell, well, low tide-y, but it smells incredible.  It's like nothing I had ever smelled before.  Almost citrusy.  I know that's weird, but it's true.

The view from our RV.

Dinner is amazing.  Charlie and Mary have serious cases of Lobster Envy, having ordered other dishes.  The owner comes out to greet us and ask about our dinner.  He's also the lobsterman who caught the two-pounders before us that morning.  How's that for fresh?  After waddling back to our RV, Rob makes a campfire and we hang a bit until these little hoppy bugs on our feet send us back inside.  One last look at the bay, coming into high tide now, reveals a group of black-headed seals slipping across in front of us, presumably to head out to the big water for the night.  We tuck in for the night and fall asleep to the sound of breaching whales and lapping water.  Heaven.

And Away We Go...VERY SLOWLY

Thursday, August 7, 2014

All of my great new toys plus minimal amounts of clothes are mounded in our living room, which I've designated our staging area.  After poring through blogs and manuals for weeks, I noticed a few items were mentioned repeatedly by the pros.  Collapsible kitchenware like measuring cups, bowls and storage containers were chief among these.  My "kitchen" had many, many drawers and cabinets but they were very tiny ones.

RVing For Dummies recommended buying a large cutting board with rubber feet, which was a total workhorse as it doubled as extra counter space, as well as a serving piece.  

Anyway, all this stuff is still sitting in the living room at 8 AM and my early bird husband's pacing around, trying to get us motivated for packing the Sequoia.  There is ALOT of stuff.  We are finally (mostly) packed up by 9 AM and he goes ahead of the kids and me to the rental place in Sussex.  Ostensibly to take care of the paper work, but I think he's nervous and wants some time alone to get oriented without all of us looking over his shoulder.  By the time we get there, the orientation has begun and we have the good fortune to arrive at the fun part:  the toilet tutorial.  Probably many of you have never had the pleasure of standing in a 3x3 foot space with a total stranger explaining the difference between gray water and black water and the dangers of clogging the sewage system of your moving home.  You should be thankful for that.

After our tour, most of which we promptly forget, we finish packing up and get on the road.  Most of you have probably not had the pleasure of maneuvering a 32 foot behemoth over a narrow and bumpy road, either.  It wakes you up, I'll say that.  Helpful quote from fifteen year old daughter:  "Dad, they wouldn't just give an RV to anyone if it wasn't okay to drive."  Well, we don't have any statistics on that, so we just go with it.  

Our plan is to stop at a Walmart because that's what ALL the pros suggested, siting ample parking, many locations near highways, and their particular friendliness to those who drive the big rigs.  Some will even let you park overnight in a pinch, which is not something we are remotely interested in. It's bad enough I had to download the Walmart app onto my phone.  

We need to stock our fridge with the essentials:  bottled water because you can't really drink the stuff coming out of the faucet; sandwich fixings for lunch so we wouldn't have to stop again; Twizzlers because it's a road trip and that's just how we do.

It takes almost double the time to arrive at our destination.  We aren't sure why, unless Google Maps bases their estimates on the average time of a sporty little two door, and not a lumbering house on wheels.  At any rate, we pull into our first campground, Sunset View Farm in Monson, Mass just in time to view that sunset.  I throw together a dinner from our Walmart trip, which includes frozen strip steaks that are just as nasty as they sound.  A nice Bombay Sapphire martini takes care of any lingering aftertastes, however.  The kids content themselves with Oreos and we all go to bed early.

And So It Begins...

It all started with the idea of a family trip out west, Brady Bunch style.  Ghost towns, burro rides into the Grand Canyon, preferably in a 1972 Ford Wagoneer with faux wood paneling and a nausea-inducing 'back-back' as we used to call it.  The 'back-back' was a set of pop up seats that faced one another and were situated just behind the rear window, where pre-regulation unfiltered exhaust poured in with abandon.  But my husband, Rob, had something bigger in mind; way bigger.

I should have seen it coming.  One day, driving along the highway on our annual summer pilgrimage to Bethel, ME, we passed an RV dealership.

 "Wonder what that's like,"  he tossed casually to me as I tried to nap.

"What what's like?"  I shifted my position so I could see out the window.

"RVing.  I think it would be fun to take a western trip in one."

"Do you?"  I answered and he dropped the topic, but I knew not for long.

We've been together for twenty-eight years, long enough for me to recognize that glint in his eye and hear that lilt in his tone when he's on the edge of a Big Idea.  Small Ideas are easy.  They are the kind of thing I call someone else up to do:  painting the porch furniture; lowering our Verizon bill; etc.  Big Ideas involve time, commitment, and usually way more money than either of us imagined.

Over the course of the year, the conversation regarding a trip out west continued at regular intervals.  The impending graduation of our oldest son lent an air of urgency to our trip.  It might be our last family trip ever.  So I got on board, so to speak.