Swept Away

"This land is your land and this land is my land
From California to the New York island
From the redwood forest to the Gulf Stream waters
This land was made for you and me..."

–Woody Guthrie, This Land Is Your Land

She almost didn't fly over Fremont Street. We had booked the zip line ride weeks in advance, with our oldest daughter Beatrice agreeing to do the ride with me, her dad. Thirty minutes before our scheduled time, Bea grappled with and stressed out over the reality of flying 114 feet above all the people below walking along the famous downtown Las Vegas Fremont Street.

I on the other hand, grappled with and stressed out over the reality of taking our daughters to Vegas in the first place, the beginning of our two-week summer road trip. Since the first time I remember going to Las Vegas, I never really understood why parents brought their young children and babies there. The many times my wife Amy and I have gone, we've wondered out loud the same thing. Two days in Vegas as adults, and we swear we'll never go again.

But there are things for families to do together, especially for pre-teens and teens. And with that older kid awareness also comes the questions about all the less-than-kid-friendly things they see around them, which we readily answered since we talk openly about the world with our children. 

There was still plenty to do: we played carnival games at Circus Circus, went to the Coca-Cola store and sample sodas from around the world, went to the Hershey store, watched the Bellagio fountain show, ate yummy food, went shopping, went swimming back at the RV campground, and then Bea and I were swept away on the zip line. It was awesome!

For months we planned this summer road trip in our camper, one that we’re very grateful we were able to take. One that echoed the arc of a trip Amy and I took 14 years ago in May of 2007. A trip where the idea of the girls was born. Or, the idea of children for us was born. A two-week trip through the Southwest starting in Vegas and continuing through many gorgeous National Parks, including Bryce's namesake (Bryce Canyon National Park). A trip where our dog Jenny would this time have to stay home and be taken care of since we'd be doing too many non-dog things. A trip where I again take care of the poop.

After Vegas and Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area, we headed to Bryce Canyon National Park. And it was again just as emotional for Amy and me as it was 14 years ago. We went into the park at sunset the first night we were there, and all of us were awestruck. This wondrous span of geological time reminded us again of our family journey we embarked on in 2008 with Beatrice, followed by 2010 with Bryce. 

Bryce was thrilled to meet her namesake, and even more thrilled to complete another Junior Ranger program. Kids who do these programs take an oath to protect parks, continue to learn about parks, and share their own Junior Ranger story with friends and family. Each park has its own Junior Ranger booklet to work through with fun learning exercises -- and you earn cool badges in the end! She had already done many of these during other trips we’ve taken and can now wear all of them on her Junior Ranger vest. Beatrice completed some of these too in the past, but now she's a little old for them, although she does help Bryce complete them, as do me and Amy.

From there we went to Zion National Park, another park replete with rugged splendor. And way too many people – the park was already packed early when we arrived. We still got to do everything we wanted to included hiking into The Narrows and the Virgin River. What we didn’t do is hike Angels Landing.

If you’re not familiar with Angels Landing, it’s an iconic rock formation in Zion 1,500 feet tall with a hiking trail that includes a series of chains, guard-rails and carved steps along the way. Amy and I did it 14 years earlier, nearly making it to the end, but in the end we couldn’t finish it. The last half mile or so, the trail is only a few feet wide, and that’s where we stopped. At one point as we held onto the chain, a family with young kids scrambled around us and encouraged us to keep going. We did not. Looking up at Angels Landing again 14 years later, I could not believe we ever friggin’ did it in the first place considering my fear of heights (even though I did do the zip line referenced above and continue to do things that face this fear). 

While in the Zion area, we went to Pipe Spring National Monument, which is managed by both the National Park Service and the Kaibab Band of Paiute Indians. This is the only water source between the Virgin River and the Colorado River, and its history is a familiar and sad one in America. One where white settlers displaced the indigenous Paiute Indians so they could own the water, and then they brought in their cattle and destroyed the expansive grasslands the Indians had lived symbiotically with for generations. Women and girls from the local tribes were also sold into the slave trade by Spanish settlers. This happened again and again to the indigenous people in America. That combined with systemic racism and what happened to people of color over the past 400 years in this country are realities we want our children to understand -- and to not stand for them happening again. 

The last part of our trip took us to Williams Arizona, the legendary Route 66 and the Grand Canyon. It was really fun being on Route 66 again and talking to the girls about it. How it used to be the main traveling road from Chicago to Los Angeles, and how many parts of it were what inspired the original Cars movie. When Amy and I went on our Southwest trip 14 years ago, we stopped and visited Seligman Arizona, another famous Route 66 destination. This time we didn’t stop after we left Williams area to head home, but we did drive through to show our daughters. 

But before we left Williams, and before we visited the Grand Canyon, we went to Sedona Arizona. One of Amy’s best friends lives near there and met us for lunch. After lunch, our family went on a Pink Jeep Tour, off road nearly 600 feet up in elevation, jostling us up and down and sideways like an intense Disney ride (think the Indiana Jones ride). That was super fun with super views!

I'd be remiss not to mention Bearizona, a drive-thru animal park in Williams with lots of sleepy animals. Keep your windows up and doors locked at all times, because seriously, sleepy wolves, bears and bison can wake up and charge (and 2 of the 3 will eat you)! After the drive-thru, there was another part of the the animal park that we walked through. It was fun for the kids and we even had a toddler grizzly bear waving at us.

One of the last big things we did was visit the Grand Canyon, the grandest of all canyons (that we’ve seen to date). We also got to see some family for the first time in a long time who live in Arizona, and so they met us in Williams and joined us in the Grand Canyon. The Grand Canyon (really a series of canyons carved by time and the Colorado River) holds such immense grandeur. It can also really make you feel so small and insignificant compared to the billions of years of geological time. I continue to push myself to face my fear of heights, and so walking out onto some of the railed ledges definitely fired up my vertigo. 

The views were breathtaking and the experiences unforgettable; we were all swept away. Again and again on this trip, we were all swept away and reminded of how grateful we are. Of why we started our family in the first place. Of why we love to travel. Of why we love to learn. Of why we love America – with all its wonder, imperfections and tragic history – and its unwritten future where we hope our children and yours will help each other, work together and thrive. 

“…this land was made for you and me..."

Even the Road Well-Traveled

"Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference."

--Robert Frost, The Road Not Taken

That's when we decided to head to the hills on Black Friday. The big mountains actually -- the Sierra Nevada. It had been over 10 years since I'd been to Sequoia National Park, up above where I grew up in Visalia, California. Back then the Mama (what I lovingly call my wife) and I had driven up past Hospital Rock to Moro Rock and then hiked the harrowing two miles around the huge dome-shaped granite to the top.

So, what to do on Black Friday? Going to the movies the day after Thanksgiving was scrapped by our family, and the Mama didn't want us sitting around on our duffs all day, and I didn’t want to be hanging around in stores or malls (although we did make our annual post crazy-crush morning Walmart run -- no judging, please), so my idea this instead was to go to Grant Grove and the General Grant tree, named the "Nation's Christmas Tree" in the 1920s by President Calvin Coolidge. It’s also honored as a living national shrine in memory of Americans lost during wars by President Dwight D. Eisenhower. I hadn't been there for decades, the last time my sister and I going with our grandparents. At that time they lived in the very small mountain community of Dunlap, just west of Kings Canyon National Park where Grant Grove is located.

We had gone to my sister's house for Thanksgiving again, but the day after she had to work on Black Friday, so it was just going to be the four of us. I mapped the way to the mountains on the computer and then my phone; there were two ways to get there, one a little faster than the other.

"We should go the faster way, Sweetie," the Mama said. "It's still going to be almost an hour and a half to get there."

I shook my head. "No, I want to go the way I know. It won't take that much longer."

The Mama shifted uncomfortably in her seat and looked out her window. I knew she wanted to go the shorter way; she always wants to go the shorter way.

"Okay," she said.

"Do we have enough gas?" I asked, now not sure about the drive. "There aren't any gas stations in the parks."

"The gauge says we've got enough miles left in the tank. Let's go for it."

"Right on, Mama."

“Are we there yet?” the girls asked.

Thirty minutes later we inched along the long line of cars to enter the park. Obviously, we weren't the only ones with the idea to head to the hills.

Our first stop was at Hospital Rock, a place I had been too many times over the years. But I was itching to get to the General Grant tree. I wanted to see the Nation’s Christmas tree. I had to see it. Be in its historic and emotive presence with my family by my side. But not in the snow. Because we’re not snow people. (Thankfully it was a balmy 65 degrees.) And then take a picture of it. Share the love on Instagram and Facebook. I felt like Clark Griswold on an obsessive mission to see America’s Merry friggin’ Christmas tree, and I wanted to get there now.

“Let’s hurry up, girls. Daddy wants to go see America’s Christmas tree.”

“No, we’re going to make stops along the way if we’re going this way,” the Mama said. “Especially now that the girls can get their Junior Ranger badges.”

“But I want to see America’s Christmas tree.”

“Yes, we get it, Sweetie. Do they even decorate the tree?”

I thought for a moment. “No, I don’t think so. Although it’s really pretty in the snow. Which we’ll never see, because we don’t do the snow.”

“Right. So, relax.”

Sigh.

“We’ll get there,” the Mama added.

“Yep, it’ll be a fun family adventure,” I said.

And as long as we get to that friggin’ tree, I thought.

Onward and upward we went – into Giant Forest, the smells of the high sierra coming in through the open windows, then past Moro Rock (the girls and I weren’t up for the heights of the hike), the General Sherman tree, Lodgepole, and finally a late lunch at the Wusachi Lodge. The thing you forget when you don’t drive in the mountains a lot is that it takes a lot longer to go from point A to point B – and the winding road can take its toll, which is why the Mama always has to drive on winding roads because she gets carsick. The girls must have her genes on that one because they were getting a little carsick, so the Mama emptied two plastic shops for vomiting just in case during one of our stops.

Fortunately, that didn’t happen and we made it to lunch. By that time the girls had finished their Junior Ranger workbooks, but we had to get to the Kings Canyon Visitor Center at Grant Grove Village by 4:00 PM for them to get their badges, and it was already after 3:00.

“We don’t have much time,” I said, knowing it would be close.

“It’s all right,” the Mama said. “If we make it, we make it. If not, then the girls will be fine. Completing the workbooks was fun enough for them and everything they saw.”

“Yep, a fun family adventure.”

“Exactly. We would have never done this otherwise.”

I winked. “I know, I haven’t been this way for decades. Not since my grandparents took my sister and me. And I get to see America’s Christmas tree!”

And then we were there with miles and miles to spare – making it in time to get the girls’ Junior Ranger badges and traverse our final loop hike to the General Grant tree, right as the sun was going down behind the mountains to fall into the sea where we live.

“Worth every minute,” I said.

“Yes, it was,” the Mama said.

“Did you have fun girls?”

“Yes,” they each answered, and then continued keeping each other company in the backseat.

As we drove back down into the foggy, smoggy Central Valley at sunset, I realized yet again what I’ve known for years: that even the road well-traveled, whether in our distant past or today's now, can make all the difference in this crazy-crush world. It's a matter of perspective, of seeing things again for the first time and with fresh nuance. These magical new experiences then imprint one after the other upon our cyclical consciousness. Many become lyrical and melodic, powerful memories that transcend time and stream on-demand like our favorite songs, anytime we want them, and anytime we need them.

As we drove deeper into the Great Valley dusk, my family holiday memories played all at once.