Brace Face

The day has arrived. What day, you ask? The inevitable day when the un-
conquerable power of genetics cruelly forces your eldest child to pay for the sins (or crooked teeth) of his parents. Between Bill and I, we knew well before we decided to have children that a "braces fund" would be advisable. Or good dental insurance. Or some combination of the two. Check out the chompers on this handsome kiddo. "Before."


"During". Looks really com-
fortable, right? Super fun stuff. His Ortho-
dontist assured him they were using state of the art techniques that are much gentler on the mouth than even a few years ago. Not sure if William was convinced. Looking at this photo, not sure if I blame him.


And here is the "After". (Or should I say the "during" with the "after" to emerge 18-20 months later). William was hoping to have them off in time for Halloween. You should have seen the horrified look on his face when I had to break it to him that they would be off in time for Halloween 2013. He was a great sport smiling for me for this photo while waiting for the congratulatory milk shake. There wasn't a mirror, or window or other type of reflective surface that didn't go unchecked while he got used to his new smile. Several hours later, the pain was pretty torturous and even "no-chicken noodle" soup was too solid for him too eat. Being mildly intrigued by the metal in his mouth turned very quickly to disdain as he realized this was his new reality. Poor kiddo. I told him he would hate us today and be so grateful when he is 30 for parents who paid good money for him to endure the most exquisite torture he has ever known (to date.)

First Day (Aka: Where Did Our Summer Go?)

World's Fastest Summer has come and gone. I think. It went so fast, I can't be sure. I have the dozens of blog posts chronicling our 90 or so days of adventures to prove it, but still. . .
Another time warp, I have a 7th grader and a 3rd grader. When did that happen? How did that happen? As if to prove that we are all indeed getting older and time is passing, my birthday coincided with William's first day of school this year. But more on that later. First up to get back into the routine-- William. Not that as parents we can help ease the pain of returning to school, we do our lamest by offering to buy the boys a "first day of school shirt". We get away with just the shirt and not a whole outfit because we have boys. (My parents would never have been excused from the whole ensemble. All Esprit or Express or some other wonderful 80's brand name.) William chose a wonderfully geeky nintendo controller shirt. He paired it with maroon pants and purple Doc Martin's. Not a matchy, matchy kind of a fellow.


He did have to leave his beloved "hat" (the new one) at home and go bare headed, but it returned to his head the minute he walked in the door after surviving his first day. Report: He loves his new schedule because he has a good friend or two in every single class and twice a week in the afternoon he has back to back P.E. classes followed by orchestra. I do see him starting to tense up and be on edge more. I can't tell if it is school or just waking up early after not being able to fall asleep at night. After a carefree, drama-free summer, it is a little heartbreaking to watch.


Now onto ME! 38. "Not 40- yet" is what 38 feels like. I was putting my make-up on and joking with Romney that I was trying my best to still look 37. His response? "Yeah, good luck with that." Good thing I love that monkey. Also good thing he was joking back. Because messing with a woman who is currently being confronted with aging to a number that feels (at least on my insides) just WRONG is a dangerous proposition. I had a nice, relaxing day. Romney had a play date so Bill and I could go to lunch alone. I came home, had some of this beautiful vegan cake and hung out with Bill. After school was out, I enjoyed celebrating my birthday at the orthodontist's office and piano lessons. Actually, that was also enjoyable . More than I would have guessed. Alone time with William after his first day of school meant I got lots of details slow leaked unprovocated over the course of several hours. Trust me, even with a pretty communicative 12 year old boy, that is a treat!


Next up to lose his freedom, Romney. His first day of 3rd grade today. He rolled out of bed relatively easily for his first early morning and ate a yummy pancake breakfast. Obviously from the photo, he also chose his first day of school clothes. We were in the car bright and early to face the first day of school traffic that is somehow always shockingly horrible.


How does Romney feel about going to school? This face pretty much covers it. Arriving he was excited, he jumped out of the car and bounced into the school. We checked in with his (and my) beloved 1st/2nd grade teacher and checked out her newly remodeled classroom. Romney happily showed her his new Beatles notebook for his journal and his Yellow Submarine pencil case. Upstairs he did the same presentation of school goods to his new teacher (and old friend) and hung out in the classroom, looking progressively more nervous as the minutes wore on. He was fine until the first circle. He looked quiet and sullen even sitting by his buddies. I left after he raised his hand and actually volunteered to speak to answer a question. The boys are no longer free, but I am. Here is hoping they both settle into new routines and happy habits as they grow as learners and into young men.

The Four Birthday B's

B number one: BILL. I love this man. Celebrating him is easy. Celebrating him only once a year is hard. (I guess that is why Father's Day was invented- in anticipation of Bill's birthday not being sufficient to properly exalt all the virtues of Bill. We get a second attempt in June.)


B number two: Biking. I can't believe I had to talk Billy into taking the day off. He has only worked once in his whole life time on his birthday. The day arrived right after he was promoted last year. He didn't know his new boss and wanted to prove himself and worked right through the day of his birth. It sucked. He hated it. Why would he do it again? Whatever. He came to his senses. Part of his present was having his bike all tuned with new brake pads for his Mueller Park 3 hour ride. What a wonderful view to start his day.


B number three: Blast off! Bill's parent were in town last week and brought with them his old model rocket kit. Blasting it off with his young ones was top on his priority list. After going through the old kit, it was apparent it wasn't totally complete. But that was soon remedied with a trip to Fred Meyer (Ok, Smith's Marketplace, but I think that name is too stupid to acknowledge.) 3, 2, 1... lift off.


B number 4: Boys. Boys who worked hard all morning making their Daddy the perfect cards. Boys who could not wait until dinner to give them to him.




Boys who think their Dad is a super hero. William drew a wonderful picture of Bill as Superman and Romney made one that looked suspiciously like his favorite Marvel hero, Wolverine-- with the addition of facial hair (like his Daddy).


What do you get the man who has everything? Nice home, great family, more electronics than we can count. Yeah, I don't know either. It is always a trick trying to find something thoughtful for Bill that he didn't even know he wanted (because if he had, he would have already bought it for himself.) This year, at the 11th hour, I found a great piece of bike themed art as well as the perfect frame and it all came together when it actually showed up in the mail today in time to wrap and present Bill his second birthday present.


But in all honesty, I think that no matter how much money I had spent or how many hours I had scoured the internet or stores I could never have found him a better present than this. 2 Barber boys with giant smiles, hugging the stuffing out of their Dad. (I am sure I will be framing this photo as a reminder of the "good ol' days" on his 90th birthday.)

Final Fantasy Day- Lake Tahoe

Fantasy trip. With a final view that looked like this, how could it not be. 5 weeks "unterwegs" ("traveling around" in German) in the middle of summer exploring is not a bad way to live. It makes me want Bill to retire so we could permanently be in a constant state of motion. It really is my natural state. (Although, Utah is the state I have lived in the longest.) "Not Ready For Real Life" is my alternate blog post title, and just about sums it up.


Sneaking in an extra day before heading home was a pretty cool trick. Bill had forgotten what "real" mountain biking looks like after 4 weeks in Portland, so we reminded him today. His job was to bike as long as he could handle it at 7600 feet after living at sea level for a month. My job was to get me and the boys out of his way and let him do his job. He so needed this ride. I am glad I "forced" it on him and so is he. He is so nice he kept trying postpone his ride to make sure we got a family hike in. He also didn't want to abandon me as I went way, way outside of my comfort zone. But more on that in a moment.

Bill's ride was pretty spectacular. He gained some decent elevation, but then had a long stretch of flat along the ridge line so he could enjoy the view of the lake from the top of the mountain for quite a while. He did have just one part of his trail along Marlett lake that was covered in water due to the unusual high snow pack Tahoe received this winter that is still melting.


On to the out of my comfort zone part of they day. Lisa, our wonderful house sitter, and a pretty awesome sister, was very excited when we told her we were stopping in Tahoe for a day. Her in-laws live here in a gorgeous home right on the lake with a walk-out to a beautiful lakeside beach. (They must have done something really right in a previous life.) I have met them once right after she and Steve were married for about 10 seconds. Lisa adores them and it is mutual, but I am a stranger and they are to me, so when Lisa suggested we spend some time together I cringed. And I tried to politely wiggle my way out of the uncomfortable situation, by trying to postpone it to a time Lisa and Steve would be present. But Lisa kept assuring me that it would be great, that were very excited to have us over and I should call her. Then Lisa arranged the whole thing and I felt like I shouldn't be such a wussy and just enjoy. Plus the boys got wind of it and seeing as how they worship Edwards and they heard the word "beach", and I knew I was outnumbered for sure.


Lisa was not kidding the home and most especially the location were fantastic. We never would have had access to this kind of experience without their amazing open hospitality. They just took us completely in and treated us like long lost family. (They can adopt me any day!). Offered us cookies and lemonade (such an After School Special kind of a moment). Interesting conversation was just a cherry on top of this already perfect experience. (YOU WIN, LOU!)


Bill and I, being the super-duper clever pair of parents that we are, checked in early to our new hotel, unloaded our bikes (minus Bill's, of course) and took our suitcases up to the room. We weren't planning on spending very long with the Edwards, we had a killer hike planned, so we just wore hiking clothes. That meant that when we had been there for 2-3 hours, the boys were completely soaked in jeans and t-shirts, with no swimsuits or extra clothes in the car. Super smart, huh? Though they were wet through and through, they both thought it was worth it to jump in and swim with the floats and paddles the Edwards had ready. Romney would just not listen when I told him he needed to get into deeper water before boarding his vessel. He looked like a beached mini-whale while he tries to paddle himself out from the edge of the beach. (He did finally concede and try it the other way. Silly monkey!)


If the beached monkey wasn't proof enough that we reside in a land-
locked state, William paddling himself in circles with his single paddle for a few minutes until he figured out the every other side thing was the evidence that convicted us of being guilty of absolutely no water skills. They were both having so much fun when it was time to pick up Bill from his bike ride, that they protested too loudly and Steve's mom, Kay, offered to let them play while I rescued Billy. Romney had just made friend on the beach and was busy digging his way to China in the sand and William was still spinning in circles on his tube, and she just seemed like she really wanted to let them stay, so they did.


With Bill safely loaded up we had a few minutes alone until we picked up the kiddos. When we got back to the Edwards' we had just enough time to help clean-up the gigantic mess we had helped make, and to try to dry the kids' clothes for a few minutes. Still slightly soggy, but hungry, dinner was at the most amazing pizza place (MOFO's in case you need a recommendation.) where they made the pizza and calzones from hand, and left the cheese out of my veggie calzone. I was one happy hungry girl! We had spent so long enjoying the lake, we missed the hike I had been excited about. We did find another close by, not as difficult, that we could knock out in the hour and a half of daylight we had remaining. It was an old fire lane that led down to a secluded swimming hole, complete with pinecones the size of a human head.


We caught the sun setting over Lake Tahoe and booked our way out back up to the car, bemusing about the trip with one another and just how lucky we are. We have each other first of all, we have happy healthy kids who still enjoy being with us, a job that pays the bills and allows for these kinds of experiences with it's location flexibility. It is a pretty spectacular life we have going on. And we feel very, very lucky. And rejuvenated. And 3 out of 4 of us are ready to go back to our beautiful home and our friends and family in Utah. (And just like those dentists who recommend a certain brand of tooth-paste, 3 out of 4 Barbers is not a bad statistic to go on.)

Biggest Little Day in the World

Exag-
geration much? I couldn't think of a blog title for this post and we are spending the night in Reno and the day did seem like we packed a lot into our waking hours. . . Hence the blog post title.


First on our list today, seeing Uncle Tres. You know it has been too long and/or you have a dis-
functional family when you ask your 8 and 12 year old if they remember him, and both say "No". Then proceed to ask "Is he your brother or Dad's brother?" and they aren't kidding around. (He is my brother for the record.) Tres (a.k.a. to all his coworkers and friends as Dennis) works as a mechanic in a motocycle repair shop. It ranks right up there for "coolest workplace to visit when you are a kid" with "semi-truck driver" (He has also been one of those, and even took the boys on a ride in his rig once. That is how we helped them remember who he was.) Yup, the boys think that is pretty cool stuff. We got to see all the bikes he was working on and chat for a minute.

Romney had been hoping Uncle Tres would help him with his shop tools to crack open a geode he purchased in a gift shop somewhere (We have been to so many, I really and truly can't remember where!) and has been carrying around with him in a pocket (and losing) for days now. The two of them crunched it in a vice. The expected outcome there happened, but Romney was thrilled with it, so now I have to help him keep track of a million little geode pieces instead of one big ball. (Actually, I can't take it anymore and have officially made it his problem to own.)

I am not a motocycle chic, though during college I did have a romantic illusion of renting a Harley and seeing the country. I am more of a Vespa girl. I blame all the SKA music I love to listen to. Here I am imagining I have hit the open road, the wind is in my hair and I am going at least 40 MPH! Go girl!


What would a trip to a city be without one random roadside site stop? BORING! That's what it would be. No can do. I found an art instillation piece at the end of a small peninsula in a boating marina. It is a "wave organ" The water makes music through a series of pipes. The sound is best during high tide, at least that is what the sign read when we got there, but we had a tight schedule and just made due with what we got. It wasn't as magnificent as I thought sound wise (I blame the time of day we went. I will try again next time we are in San Fran).


Even if the sound wasn't at it's best, it was a pretty awesome sight with stone and concrete running here and there. The scenery is amazing around it as well with the best view we had of both the Golden Gate bridge and Alcatraz. Also the best crowds. Only one other family there. Even our resident local, Tres, had no idea what we were talking about when we told him where we were headed. I love discovering hidden treasures, off the beaten path.


Next find Yoda we did to learn the force we shall. Whatever. My Yoda is pathetic. Lucasfilms is based in the Presidio and we knew the boys would love the photo ops there. The kind security guard let us in when we told him our plan and gave us a parking pass (Yippee, parking is a bear everywhere in town and we had bikes on the back of our car.) I am sure he is most likely nice to everyone like that, but I like to think we are special. Another crowd-less venue. Seriously people, thank you for staying on the bus riding around town!


If Yoda is present you know the Dark Side is not far behind. We found this scary looking dude hanging out in the lobby. He was not happy to see me as you can tell. Seriously who puts a choke hold on their guests? How Rude! (Another SF reference, did you get it? Think Mary-Kate and Ashley.)


A few hundred miles of driving in Cali traffic and Viola! Reno. Nevada. I know, I know. But it is a $36 hotel room for the night in a 4 star hotel (Though I debate that rating having seen the room.) At first it was to shave a few hours off the driving before hitting it again tomorrow. But then we thought to ourselves "Selves, what idiots, who have never been to Lake Tahoe and aren't really ready to get home and do laundry, get this close and don't go on a hike or a bike ride?" and booked an extra night (More money, different hotel) so we could have a full day at Lake Tahoe. (Bill is busily planning a "real" mountain bike ride as I type.)


Not up for a hotel buffet (blech!), we hunted down some highly rated Medi-
terranean food and hoped for the best. We came pretty close. It was delicious and we were greeted and seated by the chef (who I was too chicken to take a real photo of and snuck one through the window as we were leaving. How lame is that?) His name is Maurice, his photo is on a billboard on the "Reno strip" and we recognized him immediately when we entered. He is pretty awesome and I might have a crush. (Did I mention he can cook. I have a thing for men who cook.)


And just when we thought we had seen all that Reno had to offer by driving through it for a few minutes, we discovered another treasure. An outdoor skating rink. Winter=ice-skating. Summer=roller-skating! We would not have noticed it if there weren't two dozen derby girls wrapping up practice on the slab of concrete. Always prepared Girl Scout that I am, I actually had my skates and strapped them on for a little after-dark, middle of Reno's "strip" roller-skating action. It has been that kind of a random day. I like random. (Not to be mistaken for a mess- I hate those.)

Clang, Clang, Clang went the Trolley

Ding, Ding, Ding went the bell. San Francisco, California. A giant city I should love. I should, but I never have. It has all the makings of a place I would love-- water, great shopping, wonderful food, tons of interesting people and places, good public transportation. So why I wonder, do I have no love for this town? I have always assumed it was family baggage. Trips to San Francisco in college were always to see my Grandfather Woodward, whom I loved. But my birthmother and I have a complicated (that is to say, non-existant) relationship and she also lives in the area. This time it was all San Fran, as my Grandfather passed away several years ago, and Bill and the kids are with me. I was hopeful I would fall in love with this city. I didn't. I don't mind it. I just don't love it like I supposed I would. Bill, either. Rare that we visit a city and don't fall in love with it. But if you ask us about San Fran, we with both reply "Eh." (Bill and Tara speak for "take it or leave it". )

That is not to say we had a bad day. Quite on the contrary. We had a lovely day exploring. We woke up at a reasonable (not too early or too late) hour. Got out of our hotel and took off north to downtown. Parking was easy and not too expensive. The sun was shining. There was not even any fog. A beautiful 65 degrees and not a cloud in the sky. (Again, why don't I love this place?)


In our infinite cheesiness, we booked tickets on the double-decker, open-air hop on and hop off bus. We figured it would mean paying for parking only once and no traffic-I-don't-know-where-I-am-going stress. Plus, with only one full day in town, we figured we would hit all the highlights. We gave up trying to find tickets to Alcatraz after about 5 minutes. They are sold out weeks in advance. No big deal, William assured us. We hopped on our bus, got prime seats on the upper deck and started our San Francisco tour.


We drove past the wharf and through the financial district, with me hanging over the side to grab photos while in motion. I have to say I ended up with a pretty good vantage point and once the bus slowed or stopped, the photos weren't even too blurry. I was shocked when I got home to see what I actually captured. All of those shots would not have been the same from ground level. Take this shot of the Full House home, or the "Painted Ladies" as they are known around here. Our over-zealous first bus guide started singing the theme song, and poor Bill carried that tune around in his head for the rest of the afternoon.


Our main reason for booking the bus tour was to hitch a lift to the Golden Gate Bridge so we could walk across it and then get picked back up. None of us have been on foot across the bridge and we thought that would be pretty cool. It totally was. However, it was also totally windy and cold. We had a casualty on the bus trip due to wind. Despite being warned several times that he might loose his hat, William refused to take it off, and in an especially strong wind gust, and (here is the ironic twist) while he was reaching back to put his hoodie on his head to hold it in place, his most favorite item blew off his head and onto the bridge. After we got off the bus at the end of the bridge we walked the length, but instead of enjoying the view, we hunted for his hat. We found it. Smashed to smithereens and getting run over, and over, and over again and again and again. There was no rescuing it. Pins were gone, and The Hat was being murdered in front of William's very eyes. It was tragic to watch them both (William and his dear friend, The Hat) suffer. He did great with the emotion of the loss and though disappointed beyond belief, was a trooper and he didn't let it ruin his entire day (Look at the smile in that photo despite having a naked head. I also promised new hat hunting in the Haight. Not that The Hat could ever truly be replaced.)

We spent time in the Golden Gate Gift Shop for Romney (#1 on his to do list) and headed back to finish our bus tour at the Wharf. Famous Pier 39 to be exact, to see the sea lions. They are pretty cool. We did a tiny bit of window shopping, enjoyed looking at the carousel and froze our kiesters off when the wind picked up and the temperature dropped. I wore a sweater all day today, and wished I had worn long pants and not a skirt (which blew up around my waist at one point, mooning every one around me.) I almost forgot what it means to be warm. And so for warmth, and because the bus would stop running before we could get back, and I was not up for any more public humiliation, we picked up our car from the wharf and drove to the Haight to explore and hopefully replace a hat.

Ah, the Haight. It has never let me down in a shopping pinch before. And it still hasn't, as we found William a hat he likes very much, and is as comfortable as his old one. Not that they share the same history together, yet. But I am sure they will. Let the pin collecting commence. I feel guilty saying this in light of the present developments, but I hated that old, grubby, smelly hat. However, like any Mama worth her salt, my heart still ached watching William's face twist into despair when he realized what had happened and that it wouldn't be rescued. (Hope I didn't somehow cause the wind gust with my dislike.)

Longest Drive

Welcome to San Francisco. You got here fast. It took us all friggin' day. Way longer than we anticipated. We had google mapped from hotel to hotel at 5 hours. We left at 10 am and got here at 6:30- you do the math. When you think you have a much shorter drive ahead of you than you really do, mentally the drive seems to go on FORVER. But let's back track shall we. From the 101 headed south we hit up the Avenue of Giants and made it to Endor. Not bad for an hour's drive. No Ewoks, but a giant Immortal Tree. A tree that just wouldn't give up the ghost and today, through lightening strikes and floods and overzealous loggers, continues to grow and flourish. We came, we read the signs We took a photo in an old tree trunk, and we eased on down the road, like in the Wiz.

Next stop, lunch is a lovely little town, obviously over run with disgruntled hippies and their children and grand
children. Perfect for a food stop for people who like things like smoothies and salads. Organic food to go. This little town even has a parent co-operative run 6-12 grade charter school. Perhaps when we are ready to get off the grid and disappear from humanity, this will be where we end up. William saw the googled information on the school and started to worry we were thinking of sending him instead of SLAA. Poor guy. I assured him, I was only curious on a personal, non-parent kind of way. I am kind of sad we will miss the Gaia festival this weekend, though.

You can't drive through Bigfoot country without some kind of Bigfoot sighting. We found ours at a bathroom break/ weird stuff sightseeing stop somewhere in BFE on the 101. Shrek was there, a Blue fairy attacking Pinnochio's nose with a knife. (I think it was supposed to be a wand. But since it looked more like a knife it looked like he was visiting a plastic surgeon.)

I did find a gigantic nome I wanted to strap to the roof of our car and take home with me. I think he would be perfect protecting our yard and staring into our not-so-polite neighbor's windows. Plus, he is super-duper awesome and I developed a bit of a crush on him in the few minutes we were together.

Alas, 7 hours later we made it! Well, almost. We made it to the traffic heading to the Giants game, and the traffic of going from 4 lanes to 2 to cross the Golden Gate bridge during rush hour. This is the picture I took while hanging out the window and hoping I didn't drop my phone somewhere along the 101 over the Pacific Ocean/ San Francisco Bay while going 60 mph. Hopefully, I will get a less dangerous, better shot tomorrow when we head out on the town.

But tonight we are all too tired. We hit the hotel, decided we wanted NOTHING to do with driving around tonight after spending all day in the car, grabbed some Thai food, a Redbox movie and called it a night so we have some energy for tomorrow. Why am I more tired tonight after sitting in the car the whole day, than I was yesterday after a car ride, a cave, and a hike? It is the mystery of road tripping, and one day I might solve it. (If I can wake up enough to really think about it.)

From the Redwood Forest to the Oregon Caves

Maybe we didn't quite hit those locations in that order, it was more like, Oregon Caves to Battery Point Lighthouse to the Redwood Forest to the US 101, but that wouldn't quite fit the music of the song now would it? This post could also be titled-- "How many amazing activities can you pack into 24 hours" or "Why didn't I break this post down into more manageable parts?" I just really felt like the impact of our day would not be felt separate. Part of the beauty of this day was that it all happened in one magical 24 hour period. Up at 7 am and it is now past midnight and my boys are sleeping soundly and sweetly while I take the time to record our memories. (I am blaming any typos and run-on sentences, my speciality, on the late hour, the overload on my brain and the amount of actual recalling I need to do to knock this out!)

Yesterday on our very long, non-descript journey to Medford
/Ashland (which is actually a very cute town), our first overnight stop on our journey to California, we saw one of those brown recreation signs that said to exit at whatever exit for the Oregon Caves. I asked Bill, our chauffeur, what those were, and he said he had no idea. (Bill not knowing what something is is an event in and of itself. He is our own version of Wikipedia. We call him Billapedia.) We couldn't let there be a void in Billepedia's knowledge, and the drive was kind of getting boring, so I googled it and asked Bill if we should squeeze in a visit. We looked more carefully at what was actually up there at our hotel that night, and made an executive decision to wake up an hour earlier than planned, and head north to the caves, and then hit our Redwood hike in the afternoon, instead of the morning. The boys were not happy when the alarm went off early, but we promised it would be worth it, and crossed our fingers that we didn't lie to them.

After a 2 hour drive we got up to the cave. Breath-
takingly beautiful evergreens, a lodge and coffee shop straight from a 1950's postcard, and crystal clear water greeted us. We had no idea any of that would be there. We expected a "Timpanogas Caves" type operation. It was more like a cross between Carlsbad Caverns and Yellowstone. Our guide, whose name Romney thought was totally cool, Terah, had a wonderful dry sense of humor. We were worried at first that she was a "little slow", but it was just her wicked and dry sense of humor. Trying to catch her jokes (she obviously had given a lot of these little tours and was entertaining herself more than us) was part of the fun.

The cave itself was amazing. They didn't excavate the "roof" of the cave which meant lots of ducking and leaning and hoping you didn't hit your head in the dark of the cavern. Lots of "rooms" to visit with fascinating rocks and a chemistry lesson about how "acid" helped form the cave from the marble rock. The boys don't remember ever being in Cave of the Winds (actually it was only William with Bill) so this was their "first" time spelunking. The are big, BIG fans. They even posed for photos, of which only a couple were even partially acceptable, in every nook and cranny of that cave. 90 minutes later, I am lucky I got them to hold still at the exit for one last shot in the sunlight. (Hint: Iphone cameras not so great in the dark.)

After our hike through the cave, we were hungry and we didn't know if any tiny (still in) OR town could feed all of us and our interesting dietary choices. We decided the coffee shop at the cave was as good of a spot to try as any. We all found food, but more importantly we stepped into a time machine. This coffee shop has not been renovated since the 30's. How am I sure about this? They had photos out on the counter to peek at while you waited for your grub to arrive in front of you and the place looks exactly the same. Same barstools, same mirror, same counter, same wood paneled walls, perhaps even the same servers. (Ok, I concede, not the last part).

With our unplanned morning adventure successfully completed, we hit the road again, only to see a sign for the Battery Point lighthouse, and decided to take a tour. We arrived about 30 minutes late and also during high tide which makes the path to the lighthouse completely impassable. No problem. No tour, but the lighthouse was on and we got to play on the beach.

If it looks like I am holding onto Bill for dear life, I am not, I am holding on for body heat. It was chilly and we were a little wet from the cave. But I am also squeezing him tight to hold on to the perfect moment we were sharing staring into the water and watching our offspring play. 14 years later and I still feel butterflies like when we dated. Not bad! He feels the same way even though I wear that awful sweater/blanket that adds 50 lbs. (I swear I didn't eat THAT many Voodoo Donuts!) LIke I said it was really cold!

Even if we didn't get in to see the inside, I have a confession. That is the only lighthouse I have ever seen on and working. I have seen a lighthouse in North Carolina that I remember, but that is the only one that stayed in my memory (Not that that means that much, I have peculiarly selective gray matter) Again, many thanks to my boys for humoring me time and time again, by immediately posing upon me even making a pantomiming motion of taking a picture.

After stoping to pick a hike with a Ranger's help at the teeny tiny visitor center (odd for a park this size, maybe there is a bigger one at a different location) we made it to mile post 16, the unmarked trail head of our Damnation Trail. With a name like "Damnation Trail", one might not expect much, especially when the trail head is completely devoid of any sign of humankind other than a couple of cars parked off the side of the road, but we knew better. We wanted a trail with old growth trees, a bit of a workout, and ocean views. Damnation did not disappoint. In fact if this is where you end up when you are "Damned" count me in! (I'll start work on that project tomorrow.)

We past trees with trunks the size of SUV's (or bigger), and tops that disappeared into the mist, not to be seen again. It was a 4.4 mile hike round trip. Not too long, but it was the only trail marked as "strenuous" on the trail list. It was 1100 feet down (no problem) and 1100 feet back up (kids acted like it was no problem) and 3 hours long. We crossed a couple of charming bridges over Damnation Creek only to find. . .


This rocky private beach. The only ones brave/
stupid enough to try this hike at 4 pm, we had the beach all to ourselves when we got there at 5:30. We stayed. We snacked. We skipped stones. We marveled at seeing the very spot that the creek met the ocean.


We hunted for sea creatures in the tide pools, and found a hermit crab, snails and some long empty clam shells and seaweed of some variety. Took about a bazillion (that is a number isn't it?) photos and climbed on the rocks.


The boys amazed us once again with how strong of hikers they have become. After making it back to the car in under 3 hours even stopping and climbing on trees on the way down and playing on the beach mid-way, Bill and I told them they were inspiring us. Romney almost broke out in tears and said "Really, but Mommy you are the one who inspires me." And then I was misty, too. Taking them out on my walks has paid off in all kinds of ways for the whole family.


With almost all of our Redwood Forest wish-list boxes ticked. We found our last one on the way south to check into the hotel, a drive through tree. I have always wanted to participate in this kitschy, tree destroying ritual. I am weird like that. I jumped out to take a photo of the car going through the first time only because Bill promised, he would circle around and do it again with me inside (no crowds!).


Thank goodness I was out of the car to help Bill squeeze our Tribeca complete with our 4 bikes hanging off the back through the tiny whole in the tree. Only my tire touched the side of the tree and only the rubber, so all was good and we were all very excited that all 4 of the bikes would still be accompanying us on the rest of our trip. I did get my ride inside the car for a second pass through the tree, all bike were fine and I enjoyed hanging out of the sunroof squealing with childlike joy while touching the top of the tunnel and the sides of the tree. (Yup, I totally really did that. Surprised? I didn't think so!)


Still slowly making our way to the hotel, we had to stop at the "Trees of Mystery". It was closed, so no tram ride. However that was a bonus, NO CROWDS and as much time taking pictures of Paul Bunyan and Babe his Big Blue Ox. (Who my kids knew who he was for this Paul Bunyan sighting. Thank you, Portland Weird.)


Our final stop was this bridge over the Klamath river. We could see a few people had parked and were looking over the bridge. We normally aren't lemmings, but this time we were. We had no idea what they were doing, but hey a good view is a good view, so we stopped. We took photos with the bear statues that guard the bridge and starting walking out to the center of the river. As we were walking a woman stopped us and asked us if the whale was still there. Umm. . . say what? A WHALE! In the Klamath river. Did I even dare hope? We said we hadn't heard about a whale, and kept walking eyes a kimbo looking for anything whale-like. Bill wins the first spotting prize when he noticed the flow of the river looked little "off" in one spot. A strange heart like pattern that didn't match up with the rest of the currant. Then we all saw it all at once. . .

A definite spouting of water. I didn't even know it, but I broke out running to make sure I saw this beautiful gray whale cetacean. I was worried he/she would be gone by the time we got close. I didn't need to worry. This happy little actor/ess was happy swimming in circles, showing off for the small, but appreciative crowd. It must have found a nice warm spot in the water, and was in perfect view from the bridge. After googling info on the whale in the river, I found it is a mama whale who along with her calf, has been in the river, right under the bridge for a month now. The calf has gone back to sea, but the mama won't be goaded along. She seems content where she is.

So apparently my worry of missing it, was unfounded. She was staying in the same place for as long as we wanted to watch. I am not sure I would ever get sick of watching this magnificent creature, but I do get cold. So we stayed as long as all of us could handle the cold (we were still wet from our hike through the clouds in the forest), and made our way exhilarated and stunned back to the car to drive the rest of the way to our hotel in McKinnleyville, CA. Never in a million years would I have put, "See a whale close up in a river" on my Redwoods wish-list. Who knew it would ever be a possibility. I am not sure how often something like that happens here, but it has never happened to me. The boys were blown away by it's majesty. Even they could tell they had just witnessed something very, very special. After spending our entire amazing day enjoying the spectacular beauty of nature, from the caves to the trees, to the fog and mist, to the beaches to the rivers to the wildlife we are all feeling very small and very lucky. One of the best days of our entire family life.