The ROI Of Family Bonding And Love

"...Sometimes the light's all shinin' on me
Other times I can barely see
Lately it occurs to me
What a long, strange trip it's been..."

Grateful Dead, Truckin'

And just like that, our travel trailer was gone. Not stolen or in an accident. Simply sold to a wonderful retired couple with grandchildren, four years after we had bought it. 

We didn't sell it because we had to. We just weren't using it as much as we thought we would. It was a pandemic buy and it opened up a lot of travel options we had during the summer of 2020 and beyond. And we had no friggin' idea what we were doing. My parents had a truck camper, then a boat, then a motorhome, but I never had to take care of them and/or tow and/or drive them. 

In July of 2020, we wrapped up the paperwork at the dealer, hooked up the rig, and towed our new travel trailer for the first time. Again, no friggin' idea what we were doing. I was scared to death. My wife Amy was nervous, too, but as always, assured me we could do it. 

And we did. I could also back that thing up like a champ, too. It wasn't without a big learning curve and almost breaking lots of things, though. Thankfully we never really broke anything exactly, only slightly damaged some things. I backed our SUV into the trailer hitch that left a dent, one that remains today. Early on with the travel trailer we used it as a safe haven at a campground out of town when the CZU August Lightning Complex fires came within three miles of where we live and the smoke and ash were horrible. We then had to deal with our home security alarm going off when we were gone with me thinking that we were being looted (which we weren't after I drove all the way back to our house in the early morning to check). 

We connected the batteries incorrectly on one trip and nearly fried them. We woke up on another trip with a flat tire on the travel trailer that turned into a bit of a fiasco, although we got home okay. And on that same trip, my kids and I dealt with bullies in a McDonald's. On another trip, we thought our SUV was on fire that began a cascading stress-mess with an anti-climatic ending. 

Even with all of that, in a short period of time we had many great adventures, including an amazing two-week Southwest road trip, a couple of trips Oregon where one of Amy's uncles lives (and who helped us a lot with our travel trailer learning curve!), a trip to Joshua Tree, trips to the Columbia in Sonora, trips down the central coast to Paso Robles and Avila Beach, trips to see my family in the Central Valley (KOA campgrounds are great especially when there's a pool!), and a few others. And through it all I took care of my family's poop.

Our kids are now teens, and the last few times we went on a trip in the trailer camper, they didn't like it. Hated it, actually. Not the parts we did outside of the travel trailer, just the staying in the camper and the sleeping parts. Our dog Jenny always disliked going with us in the travel trailer, too. It always stressed her out and we had to crate her in the camper when we went places that didn't allow dogs. 

Amy and I had aspirational ideas about what we'd do with our travel trailer in the years after we bought it. When we first got it, we were ready to go, and we had plans to travel in it together when the kids were old enough to stay by themselves, and eventually when they were out of the house. I think that, like in the beginning as a pandemic buy, we romanticized what it would be like to travel in our camper. 

But in the past year it's not how we've traveled, and won't be in the foreseeable future. We hated the camper sitting in storage and not being used. Because what happens when things sit and aren't being used? They breakdown and fall apart. And we didn't want that to happen, so we sold it to some very nice people who will take good care of it. 

We did have amazing adventures, though, and we made miles of special memories. We saw so many beautiful landscapes and met some wonderful people. We also learned a lot about travel trailers, towing, how your mileage sucks when you're towing, and how easy it is to almost break stuff. However, the biggest lesson of all was also the greatest return on our investment. The ROI of family bonding and love.

 

Endless Possibilities Actually

"Dad, those people are pointing at our car."

A car passed us and I could see some kids pointing at us. Right after our oldest Beatrice said that, a trucker passed us and honked. Then I saw the smoke. White smoke that billowed out from the front of our Santa Fe Hyundai. 

"Shit," I said. "We've got to pull over." I aways cuss a lot when I'm stressed out. 

It was Memorial Day weekend and we were less than two miles from our final exit and less than four miles from our final destination at the KOA campground in Visalia. My wife Amy and I had no idea what was wrong with our car, but I knew that we all needed to get out of it in case it caught fire. 

"Everybody get out of the car," I said, waving the family out. "Fuck," I then said under my breath. 

Once outside of the car, Amy said we should unhook our trailer camper in case there was a fire. Seconds passed that felt like hours. I called my sister, who we were going to see, and then I called for roadside assistance. Cars and trucks blurred past us on the highway. We told our kids to stay away from the highway and hold our dog Jenny. 

Twenty minutes later, as we waited to hear back about the roadside assistance, the white smoke finally subsided. Thankfully there was no car fire. We had put our dog back in the car so she wouldn't get more stressed and try to get away. 

"We have to get to the campsite," Amy said. I agreed and knew it would be a risk to drive again, but that's what we did. I started the Hyundai, pushed the flashing hazard lights button, waited for an opening in the highway, and pulled out. I drove white-knuckled all the way to the campground. We made it there without anymore white smoke, but the engine light did come on. Two weeks before all this we had just had the car serviced. Nothing was wrong then, although they did overfill our oil and not tighten our oil filter all the way, which was something we had to deal with before this trip. We didn't realize then how much foreshadowing that was. 

Of course it was Memorial Day weekend, so by the time we got to the campground, the Hyundai Dealer in town was already closed. We set up camp and my sister came and got us and took us back to her house for dinner. After that, she let us use one of her cars, which was actually my parents car before they had both passed away.

The next day a dear old high school friend who was a mechanic came out to take a look at my car and verified that transmission fluid was leaking from the car and that's what had sprayed onto the engine and smoked. We took our Santa Fe to a local lube and oil place and they ran a diagnostic that confirmed why the engine light went on: the might be an issue with the torque converter in the automatic transmission. And yes, the transmission fluid had leaked out. 

"Shit."

The service center at the Hyundai dealer in town wouldn't be open again until the Tuesday after Memorial Day, so we had to strategize on what to do next. The plan had always been to go home on Memorial Day Monday because we had to get back to work and our kids had appointments. But it was still only Sunday, and Amy and our daughters attended my niece's bridal shower while I hung out with Jenny and worked and wrote. After that, we hung out again at my sister's. 

We still had a nice visit overall, but the whole time I kept worrying about what was wrong with our car and what we were going to have to do about it. 

[More cussing in my head.]

But then my old friend had offered to tow our trailer camper back home and my sister offered to let us use the same car so Amy and our kids could get home. That's what we did on Memorial Day: my family made it home safely and I rode eight hours with my friend to drop off our trailer in Santa Cruz and return to Visalia. We were so grateful to my friend and my sister for all their help. 

What happened when I took our Santa Fe to the local dealer service the next day was completely anti-climatic to how the whole holiday weekend started. In the end, there was nothing wrong with our transmission or anything else. During our last car service back home just two weeks earlier, they had overfilled our transmission fluid by over two quarts. They had also overfilled our oil and not fully tightened the oil filter, which we already knew about. We'd been taking our car to that Hyundai dealer service for seven years and nothing like this had ever happened, until now. 

Two days after Amy and our girls went home, Amy drove my sister's care back to Visalia and we returned home in our car. The universe realigned.

When life goes sideways (in this case with car trouble), our first rule is always safety first for the family. Everything else is just time and money and transitory pains in the asses that will not always be recoverable, but because we're still here living and breathing, there's always the possibility of recovery. Endless possibilities actually. 

That's why the second rule is, we make the most of our moments, wherever they are and however they are. Stewing in uncertainty results in angst-filled inaction, which I'm certainly still guilty of, but endless possibilities make all the difference in the end. Reconnecting with an old friend and spending more time with my sister were moments I wouldn't have had otherwise. Again, we're so grateful for their help.

Our Family Safety Zen

The last thing I should've done was to get in their faces, but that's exactly the first thing I did. The reaction was swift and effortless, as if my hand was already ready to flip the switch when provoked.

"Dad, that boy just poked me and laughed at me," our oldest daughter Beatrice said to me. "He's bullying me and I'm not comfortable and want to go."

She definitely looked uncomfortable and that was all the provoking I needed. I turned and faced the two teen boys and took a step toward them. Both wore baseball caps and one wore sunglasses.

"Leave my daughters alone," I said.

They instantly read my look and tone and both of them tensed. The one without sunglasses took a half step back. They were big kids, but I was a bigger adult.

"What do you mean?" the one without sunglasses said defensively.

"Your daughters?" the one wearing sunglasses said. "We didn't do anything."

I wasn't sure if he was making fun of us or me, but it didn't matter. Thankfully, they didn't say another word. 

"Leave them alone," I simply said again. I could feel my anger seething. 

I turned around to check on Beatrice and her sister Bryce. Beatrice was uncomfortable but Bryce seemed fine.

"We're going to go back to the car," Beatrice said. 

"That's fine," I said. "Or, you can wait here with me until I get our food and we can go back together."

"I'm fine, Dad," Bryce said. Beatrice didn't say anything. "I saw him bug Beatrice but he didn't bug me."

The two teen boys at this point were ordering some food of their own and then they sat at a table away from us. I don't remember them looking our way again or saying another word.

We had been on our way to go camping for the weekend and stopped to get food and gas. My wife stayed with our car and camper, and dog Jenny, and me and the girls went to McDonald's. As soon as we walked in the door I saw the two teen boys teasing each other and screwing around with the touch screen ordering system. A mountain bike lay on the floor near the bathrooms and I assumed it was theirs. The girls and I went ahead and ordered on the other side of the touchscreen system from where the teens were.

I was already on edge because of what had happened just prior to going to McDonald's, I was the one watching the car, camper, and our dog. Amy and the girls had gone to cookie store to get some treats. We were parked in a shopping center parking lot parallel to the main road, and coming up the sidewalk was a man pushing a shopping cart full of what I assumed where his belongings. In front of where we were parked was the shopping center security guard sitting in his car. As soon as the shopping cart man got close, he immediately pulled out his phone and start filming and cursing at the security guard. The security guard got out of his vehicle and confronted the filming man, which just made him angrier and he cursed continuously accusing the security guard of following him. 

I definitely felt like mental illness was in play here, and these days you just don't know who may pull out a knife or a gun, so I readied myself to roll up the windows and lock the doors. I had no where to go otherwise. The shopping cart man continued his way up the sidewalk past where we were parked. I told myself not to look him in the eyes, but I did, and thankfully he just glanced at me and then kept pushing his cart down the sidewalk. 

After the confrontation with the teen boys in McDonald's, we got our food and walked back to where we parked. Beatrice felt better because we left and Bryce kept saying the boys hadn't bothered her. I told Amy about what had happened and that I knew that I overreacted. Of course there's nothing wrong with protecting our children if they feel unsafe, but I did get too verbally aggressive with the teen boys. And, I didn't give Beatrice a chance to use her own Kidpower and tell the boys to stop herself.  

Again, nothing else happened and we went on our way down the highway to the campground. But from the shopping cart man to the teen boys, I felt rattled and angry, and instead, needed to channel our family safety Zen. The camping eventually did the trick. 

Then came the flat tire, which is another story for another time...

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..."

Taking Care of the Poop

I won't poop in our trailer camper. I'll pee in it, but I won't poop. Ever since we bought our camper last summer, and on every trip since, I've had a restroom close by in the RV campgrounds to do my business. 

The camper bathroom is tiny, but that's not the problem (although they could've installed the damn thing at a diagonal angle). We treat our camper toilet tank with the proper chemicals as well, so that's not the problem either. I'm not sure what the problem is exactly, I just know I have one. Whether I use it or not, however, I'm the sewer guy who takes care of the poop.

We don't flush toilet paper in our camper toilet. Instead, the rest of the family (not me) puts the toilet paper in a zip lock and then we throw it away each day of our trips (you may have traveled to places that don't want you to flush toilet paper). Even with the toilet chemicals that break down the, well, the stuff, we decided not to flush the paper. They can more quickly over time gunk up the toilet tank, more so than the, well, the other stuff. That may be too much information for some, but for those you and your families who have an RV, or have friends or family who have one, you understand.

My wife Amy and our two daughters, they do use the toilet for both, and also use the campground bathrooms. We'll never be tent campers (although I never said I'd own an RV either). Even when I romanticize my childhood tent camping with my family at Huntington Lake in the Sierra Nevadas, I don't miss the fact that we don't do that now. And if we did, we'd still have the campground bathrooms or outhouses to use. 

Even when Amy romanticizes hiking along the Pacific Crest Trail (think the novel Wild and the movie starring Reese Witherspoon), it's never gonna happen. The year after we met, Amy and one of her best friends took a safari trip to Africa and camped in tents in Serengeti National Park. It was an amazing trip until they all got dysentery for a few days. And that was the end of tent camping for her. Plus, hiking and camping in the wilderness means you dig a hole and you bury your poop, and while both us could do it, we don't want to do it. 

In full disclosure, since I've already let the poop out of the bag as they say (not sure who "they" are and if that's really what they say), I did poop once in the camper. We were in Joshua Tree a few months ago, and Amy and the girls went off on a Hollywood excursion while I stayed in the camper to watch our dog Jenny and catch up on some work. And that's all I'll share about that. 

Amy and I have been taking care of our own poop for decades now. As kids we eventually learned how to take care of our own business. The same thing for our own children; we took care of their poop until we didn't have to, although as parents, you know the variance in that waste equation. When we did decide to buy our trailer camper, taking care of the waste equation for Mom and kids was critical. 

We're now halfway through this year's summer road trip of camping, one that echoes 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 and many gorgeous National Parks, including Bryce's namesake (Bryce Canyon National Park). Another amazing family journey generating many more loving memories to add to our grateful jars, and Dad taking care of the poop, unconditionally. 

Our Mobile Happy At Home

When the power went out in the camper, it was the worst. In the middle of the night, everything quiet because the fan noise stopped. And then to find out our home alarm went off, too, and the cops had come to the door (which they friggin' charged us money for, too). These things weren't connected at all, just a faulty motion detector at home that we eventually got fixed, versus RV park's power going out. 

But the power going out in the camper while we were out doing activities where we couldn't bring our dog Jenny became too stressful for all of us, especially me. And especially Jenny, because we have to crate her inside the camper. If we were gone for a few hours and the power went out...I didn't want to think about that.

We tried to let her roam free inside the camper while we were away, but that turned into tearing the screen right off the door. We tried hemp chews to relax her, and that didn't really work either. Many of the places we've been to with our trailer camper we've been able to take Jenny with us outside with us, but there are times we cannot. 

RV travelers take their dogs with them all the time. As I write this, many people have already passed our campsite with their pups and I hear them barking near and far. When my parents had their motorhome, they brought their squirrelly little Chihuahua mix Lucky with them everywhere. My mom, who had an auto-immune disorder and chronic pain, was working on getting Lucky certified as a service dog, which meant she could technically take him anywhere with her. 

Our Jenny isn't a service dog, though, and changing environments for many dogs can be very stressful. When we first adopted Jenny, and tried to leave her alone at home, she peed everywhere and scratched at the front door leaving deep gouges. 

She eventually relaxed and realized this was her home, and we were her providers. Jenny actually is a good travel dog, until we have to leave her alone, and then it's as stressful as the day we brought her home. That's why we decided this time for our longer summer road trip adventure to get a house and pet sitter while we were away. Someone who used to babysit our daughters. Not just a dog sitter, but a rabbit sitter too -- our rabbit Dragonlily. He's easy, though. Hay and veges and he's good. 

We love our trailer camper. Our dog, not so much, although she likes being with us, but this time she'll be more happy at home. Our kids like being with us as well, thankfully, and traveling with us, but they too get homesick like Jenny does. 

We'll all make do for now and enjoy. At some point when they're older teens, our girls can take care of Jenny while Mom and Dad hitch up the little love trailer and hit the road alone; our mobile happy at home.

But then we'll have to have the "no parties" talk with the girls, which of course will be another post for another time in the future. Mercy me, another time. 

Happy Memorial Day Weekend! Thank you to those who have sacrificed for our freedom to have our mobile happy at home!

Running In Parallel

Hearts by Bryce

She kept saying she smelled propane. I didn’t smell it. Now, my wife Amy has Spidey sense (from the comic book superhero Spider-Man – the ability to sense things others can’t – like me), so I didn’t necessarily doubt she smelled something was wrong, but I didn’t smell any propane, so thought everything was fine.

When we hooked up our trailer camper to go on a little family trip, she again said she definitely smelled it. When we arrived at our camping destination and had begun setting up our trailer camper, she said it again.  

“No, really. I smell propane. And do you hear that humming?”

I did. Hear the humming, but I still didn’t smell propane. However, I did smell the faint scent of something burning, something acidic. That’s when I leaned over to one of the two 6-volt batteries that powered our trailer camper. 

There was the hum and there was the smell.

“What the hell?”

We quickly removed the battery covers and sure enough, the humming and smelly battery was also very hot. We then quickly disconnected the batteries and called Amy’s Uncle Brian. Brian is a retired power company lineman and extremely knowledgeable about all things electric, wiring, power and so much more beyond that (he’s helped us with many things). We had him on FaceTime and we walked through how the batteries were supposed to be connected in parallel so as to increase the amp-hour capacity with the voltage remaining the same. This way if there is a break in the circuit, the current is able to pass through the circuit through different paths. Things way above my pay-grade. I had disconnected them months earlier when we stored the camper to prevent what’s called parasitic draw (things on in the camper still drawing power even though it’s just sitting there). I set up solar trickle chargers for the battery as well that helped to keep them charged. 

But when we prepped the camper for our first trip of the year, I connected the batteries incorrectly, hence the smell and the humming. In all fairness to us, which even Brian admitted, the parallel connector cable was red. And red wire usually means positive, but that wasn't the case here, hence the parallel connection from negative on one battery to positive on the other that I didn't follow when reconnecting. Thank God for Spidey sense, teamwork and Uncle Brian. 

"Phew, thank goodness we figured that out and didn't fry our camper," I said.

"Yes, indeed. And now we know how to connect correctly," Amy said. 

"I took a picture as well!" 

"Good."

"Can we finish setting up camp now?" the girls cried out. 

After we reconnected the batteries correctly, all was well. Our daughters were off from school for a few days due to Presidents’ Day, and so it was time to take the camper out again for a little adventure. Plus it was Valentine’s Day weekend, and for us there was no better way to spend it than with our entire family – including our dog Jenny.

We went down to Paso Robles and Morro Bay and had so much fun. I got to show our girls where I spent many pre-teen and teenage summers (Morro Bay), while checking out some fun and funky hot springs in Paso Robles among other wine-tasting activities. For us, of course, not the kids. And then ending every night around our fire pit to make s’mores while the girls shared stories about growing up (dozens of them actually in the 10 and 12 years of their lives so far!). 

After nearly a year of pandemic, working from home, schooling from home, limiting family and friend interactions to our local pod few, we’re more grateful than ever that we’ve been safe and well. Last February we adopted our dog Jenny, which we never thought we would do until we involved the girls in the process of taking care of a dog. We also never thought we'd have a camper either, and that's also been a family affair, with Amy and I learning a whole bunch of new stuff in a short period of time. Still learning, too, especially since I almost caused a nuclear meltdown with our camper batteries. But we didn't, we keep reminding ourselves. We did not.

The operative world being we, because we are a team. Amy and I have always been a good team, even when nerves are frayed and I'm Daddy Goat Gruff. We don't always agree on how to get there, but we get there intact. We also both drive and back that dang trailer camper up like semi-pros now, and we ask for help when we need it (thank you, Uncle Brian!). We've also expanded our camping team to our two daughters. They pack most of their own stuff for trips, and help us pack as well. They also help us retract and extend the camper stabilizers and tongue jack, connect and disconnect the camper to the hitch ball joint, and more. Sure, Amy still does most of the list-making, planning, prepping and packing, and I still do a lot of the literal heavy lifting of packing and unpacking, camper connections and more. The girls offer to help and we include them in as much as we can. Except when they're off playing, or taking Jenny for a walk, because they are still kids. 

We are a team. This past year we've become exponentially closer – four hearts running in parallel – with our love a current continuously flowing through each other and back again no matter what we face individually or as a family. In other words, #BhivePower. 

Memories Now and to Come

The turpentine burned as it hit the bites that covered my head. That much I remember. And all my crying. At that time, we had no other options as there wasn't anything else available at the small store. 

This all because of sand fleas. Although at the time, my mom called them sand lice. Whatever the heck they were, they got on my head and bit, bit, bit. Small welts all over my head. I do remember itching the bites and that's when Mom discovered what was crawling and biting my head. 

This was one of many memorable times when we camped growing up. Most being much more fun than the sand fleas. For a few years when we were younger, and before my mom and Jerry got divorced, we'd go tent camping in Huntington Lake in the Sierra Nevada mountains. I remember eating breakfast on cool and crisp mornings, exploring and climbing rocks with my sister, swimming in the cool lake and fishing for trout. 

After that, there was no more camping. A decade later, Mom and Dad had a boat, and then after that a motorhome, but we never went camping. My sister's kids when with them, though, and dad and I did go fishing a few times together on the boat, and I treasure those times. 

We've never gone camping with our girls. It's just never been a thing we've done. We've gone hiking in the mountains and swam in lakes and rivers with them, but no tent camping at all. And probably for good reason for my wife Amy as I've written before. The year after we met, Amy and one of her best friends took a safari trip to Africa and camped in tents. It was an amazing trip until they all got dysentery for days. And that was the end of tent camping for her. 

Although I've sworn in the past I would never own, much less drive, a motorhome and/or pull any kind of trailer camper, that's exactly what this old "no" guy Jedi has gone and done. We're super grateful that we were in a position to do this for our family, especially in these dire times with a pandemic surging around us that's leaving economic devastation in its wake. Neither has hit us yet. Either one still could at some point, but it hasn't, and our hearts go out to those who have lost loved ones and livelihoods. 

So for now, this is the only travel we'll be doing for the next few years. A way to see the great American outdoors and still be able to social distance, wear our masks and be safe. We researched the camper, we shopped for it, and we bought it, knowing we were in this for years to come. We then joined a wonderful online RV community that has been very helpful and supportive. 

Sure, some call it glamping, because we're camping in a tiny traveling hotel room, and not really roughing it. We're okay with that, because it's still time with our family and we can go anywhere we can drive to. The first day of our inaugural trip it only took about 6-7 minutes to back it into our camping spot correctly -- well, almost correctly -- when we thought it would take 20-30. We actually set it all up in our first campsite without hitting anything or breaking anything. I told one of our camping neighbors that and he said, "That's great, but you're not home yet."

Dammit. 

We barbecued hamburgers on our tiny camping grill (thank you, Mom and Dad!), and then on the first morning, we played card games and then fixed a yummy breakfast outside in the cool coastal air (we stayed close to home for our first trip). The girls rented banana bikes and we walked around the camp with our dog Jenny while the girls rode. On the way we made mental notes of everyone else's rigs and and all the camping stuff they brought with them.

We need this and we need that and we need that and we need this. We may never be ready for the zombie apocalypse, but we'll be pretty damn close. The true test after we have a few trips under our belts will be the dry camping, without all the hookups, especially if we have to stop somewhere to sleep, otherwise known as boondocking. We're going to make mistakes, hopefully not costly ones, and yet the only way to know is to do. 

We also made s'mores around our own tiny campfire, although they didn't quite look like they do on T.V.  We were then s'more shamed by family because we didn't use Hershey chocolate bars for our s'mores, and our chocolate looked like baby poo. That's love, baby. What they didn't know is that we used generic marshmallows that just didn't work the same either, so that's what we get. Still tasted good, though!

With so many new adventures ahead, all I could think about as we walked through the campground were my childhood memories and our own children's memories now and to come. I hope I've made you proud, mom and dad. Love and miss you both!

Other "Days of Coronavirus" posts:

Especially Our Kids

This Old "No" Guy Jedi

Choose Eyes of Love

The Morning Work

We Shared Blue Genes

Agree to Disintegration

The Teacher Parade

All These Things Can Lead To Grace

Our Freedom Is Always Welcome

A Well of Strength

This Bad History

No Shirts, No Shoes, No Problem

The Iceberg Underneath

The Healing Hope We Can Give

Donate Your Date Nights and Help Feed Families

About All The Things

Dad, Our Family's Computer Guy

The Newest Normal

Where Our Troubles Are All The Same

This Is The Life

When There's Nowhere to Go

Jenny, Jenny, Who Can I Turn To

This Old "No" Guy Jedi

“You're off to Great Places!

Today is your day!

Your mountain is waiting,

So... get on your way!”

―Dr. Seuss, Oh, the Places You'll Go!

I swore I would never drive one. Never in a million years. Nearly two decades ago, when my parents owned a motorhome, and way before we had the girls, I remember my wife Amy saying, "I'd love to have one of those someday and see the rest of America."

"I'm not driving that bus," I said. "You are."

"We'll both drive it," she said.

"Nope. Let's just go tent camping," I said.

"Nope," she said. 

And for good reason for her. The year after we met, Amy and one of her best friends took a safari trip to Africa and camped in tents. It was an amazing trip until they all got dysentery for days. And that was the end of tent camping for Amy. 

However, my sister's kids had a blast traveling with Nana and Poppa,  my parents, in that motorhome. I mean, I always thought it was cool that they had one, but no, ain't never gonna drive one. 

But with Amy, the love of my life I've traveled the world with, I've learned to expand my horizons, and be more open to doing. I've always been that "no" guy. Where my pragmatic cynicism (oh, ego) kicks in when a new idea is kicked around, or when the reality of the moment kicks me in the groin. Yep, the "no" guy. Both our daughters know that if they want a "yes" then don't ask Dad.

Before we had the girls, when we were fortunate enough to go to Belize back in 2006, we had rented a little jeep, a Suzuki Sidekick, not really thinking about whether or not it would have automatic transmission. We just assumed it would. So, as we stood in the little rental kiosk off the airport getting the jeep checked out to us, we had no idea it had a standard transmission.

Until we loaded our stuff and sat in the seats, with me in the driver seat. 

"Wait a minute. This is a stick," I said.

"It's all right," Amy said. "You can do it."

"But neither of us have driven a stick in years," I said.

"It'll come back. Muscle memory," she said. 

"No way. I can't do it," I said.

"Yes, you can. Now just drive. You can do it."

The "no" guy stalled out a few times, and so did Amy when she drove it, but it all came back up pretty quickly.

Then there was the "no" time when we were prepping to travel to Australia with our daughters, neither of us sure we wanted to brave driving in Australia, where everything is on the "wrong" side of the car and the road. It wasn't just me this time, and ironically Amy had trained me well, because I convinced her we should rent cars and drive during parts of the trip. 

And that's exactly what we did. To say it was awkward at first would be quite the understatement, but after getting lost shortly after leaving the Sydney airport, we got plenty of driving practice in. After the first day, we both were driving in Australia without a hitch. 

But no motorhomes! Ever! And while that is true, COVID-19 struck. Everything ground to a halt, including leisure travel. With coronavirus now surging again, especially in America, even if we wanted to go on a trip (which we did and it had to be canceled), our choices are pretty limited in order to be as safe as possible. 

We had already thought about renting a camper pre-coronavirus, to try it out, but never did. Then we had friends who bought a trailer camper and hit the road. In fact, RV sales are soaring now! I was conflicted, because while it's not a motorhome, we still have to learn all the things -- all the hoses and the hookups and how to tow and drive the frickin' thing. And back the frickin' thing up into tight places. Again, all the things. Of course, we're grateful that can actually consider getting one in the first place, but to know all the things and drive it safely -- no!

But hey, a camper is a self-contained mini-hotel room where only we'll be, so there's that. Thankfully we both now embody the Yoda philosophy of "do or do not -- there is no try." A long time coming for me, we're both open to all the doing, failing, learning and doing again and again. And if this is the beginning of the zombie apocalypse, then dammit, we're going to be ready to go!

Yes, we like Star Wars and end-of-world stories.

But that's not the point. Self-doubt and fear diminish the do, and even with the vestige of my pragmatic cynicism hanging on, this old "no" guy Jedi is a doer. We researched, we shopped and we did it! The girls are super excited, as are we. We've been getting such valuable advice from friends and family, and I've also been up at night working out the physics of all the things in my head. So much to learn including how to back the frickin' thing up! That's why we're going to a parking lot first and placing orange cones down to navigate around. 

And then after the practice -- oh, the places we’ll go...

Other "Days of Coronavirus" posts:

Choose Eyes of Love

The Morning Work

We Shared Blue Genes

Agree to Disintegration

The Teacher Parade

All These Things Can Lead To Grace

Our Freedom Is Always Welcome

A Well of Strength

This Bad History

No Shirts, No Shoes, No Problem

The Iceberg Underneath

The Healing Hope We Can Give

Donate Your Date Nights and Help Feed Families

About All The Things

Dad, Our Family's Computer Guy

The Newest Normal

Where Our Troubles Are All The Same

This Is The Life

When There's Nowhere to Go

Jenny, Jenny, Who Can I Turn To

Live the Effectual Stretch

Experience the great outdoors! Be one with nature! Revitalize your spirit! Live the effectual stretch!

"I want to go camping," said Bryce.

"Yes!" echoed Beatrice.

"Mama doesn't go camping, girls," said Daddy.

"Nope, no camping," said the Mama. "But we can go to Paris."

"That's not camping."

"To some people it is."

"I don't want any parrots," said Beatrice.

"Not parrots -- Paris. Like Paris, France. Ooo, la, la," said Daddy.

"That's where I want to go," said the Mama.

And so it goes. One African safari nearly 20 years ago with one of her best friends and the Mama just can't do the tent camping thing. This was a year after we'd met and I was green-eyed with envy for sure. Of course I wasn't too disappointed when I learned that diarrhea had swept through their camp for a few days challenging the notion of "resetting the mind and spirit." Nothing like a good colonic in the presence of Mount Kilimanjaro to then be confined to your sweltering tent for a few days.

I shouldn't complain, though. Around the same time I had gone on a business trip to Barcelona and Paris (ooo, la, la) and did not get sick. However, I did go out of my way to during a dinner event in Barcelona to run down to the beach, take off my shoes, hike up my pant legs and put my feet in the Mediterranean Sea. 

For years as a child, our family went tent camping every summer at Huntington Lake in the Sierra Nevada Mountains, south of Yosemite. Real tent camping. Dirty, cold at night, cooking meals over a fire (and a Coleman stove), fishing and hiking and exploring glorious tent camping. One year I had what my Mom called sand crabs on my head. To this day I'm not sure if that's what they were -- or if they were sand fleas, or sand lice -- but whatever they were, I got 'em good. All over my head. Buried deep in my scalp under a blanket of sandy blonde hair. 

There were no medicinal shampoos at the lake store, only turpentine. For those who have never had this very special liquid poured over open wounds on their head, you have no idea how "alive" it makes you feel. To this day I remember how much is stung and throbbed. And how much I cried. But no matter what, it never wiped away the happiness I felt fishing for rainbow trout or exploring a mountainside of granite rocks and all the various Sierra Nevada pines filling me with the amazing scent of adventure. 

Decades later and we're off to another annual trek to Lake Tahoe, the Big Lake as the girls first called it. We're not literally camping per se, but we are hiking and swimming and visiting with family and experiencing the great outdoors in a mountain range over 100 million years old. We did take the girls on a beautiful mountain hike to Eagle Lake, just above Emerald Bay. It's only about 2.5 miles round trip, but that's the most the girls have ever done in any one stretch. And thanks to perennial hiking family members Uncle Brian and Aunt Julie, and the Mama and the Daddy, the experience motivation moved them along.

Research shows that "experiences" are critical to happiness, healthy connections and relationships. In fact, "one study...even showed that if people have an experience they say negatively impacted their happiness, once they have the chance to talk about it, their assessment of that experience goes up."

This is why invest in experience for ourselves and for our girls. It's the effectual stretch as I call it -- to push ourselves to learn new ways to see and understand our individual and collective worlds, and to expand beyond what’s known and comfortable in ways that produce desired yet diverse, highly personalized and usually effective results. This could mean the literal extremes of big success or failure, or those incremental leaps and lapses in between that give our daily journeys sustenance for mind, body and spirit. 

Happiness and healthy connections, kids. That's what I'm talking about. And we impress the same approach and attitude on our daughters, teaching them to embrace experience -- to be bold yet aware, to protect themselves but not live in fear, to keep getting back on the bull like they own the beast, horns held tightly in hands. This includes exposing them to travel, new locales and people, experiences that we hope will shape their adult lives and those they interact with for the better.

We may never literally all go camping together, but we're certainly going to treat each new experience like a camp out -- to embrace the wilderness around us and the sky above -- and live the effectual stretch.