I’m typing this into OpenOffice, late at night, sitting in my Dad’s motorhome at the back corner of a Chevrolet Dealership in Cottage Grove, Oregon. It is Tuesday September 4. I am hoping to be able to spend a little while at Starbuck’s in the Safeway here tomorrow so that I get a few posts set up on my blog. This is one. It has been an unbelievable few days… but I’m getting ahead of myself…
We decided to begin our homeschool year by taking a vacation with my Dad to the Oregon Coast. It would be relaxing and fun, and we’d do a little salmon fishing and a lot of beach combing. We plan to hit some tidepools and any Oregon Trail museums we come across. We didn’t have a time line or an agenda, which turned out to be a very good thing. This trip will always be known as the Murphy’s Law Vacation.
Murphy’s Law? Why, you ask?
If it could go wrong, it did on this trip.
Let me just begin to highlight them for you…
Day 1: Sunday the boys and I left home in Eastern Washington state and drove to my Dad’s outside of Boise, Idaho. It’s about a 6 1/2-7 hour trip and I have never driven further than from our place to Seattle. (That’s 5 hours in traffic with construction along the way. Less than that if there are no road delays.) So it was a stretch for me but I didn’t get drowsy, which I was afraid of. The triple shot venti Americano I had in the morning probably had something to do with that. We were able to stop at a scenic viewpoint, although the view wasn’t much I still made the boys pose for pictures. We arrived at Dad’s just in time for dinner.
Day 2: Monday, we left first thing in the morning, with the only oddity being my Dad’s propensity to drive by Braille. Let’s just say that there was a lot of rumble strip action happening along the way. A few minor heart attacks for me, but of course the boys didn’t notice.
We brought a portable DVD player and E’s iPad, so they were well occupied. Which was a good thing, because when I got up to use the toilet (it is a motorhome, after all) and, ahem, sat down, we went around a curve and the bathroom door slid back into its pocket in the wall, leaving me feeling very exposed sitting there with the boys in my sight line. They were too busy to notice, thankfully!
We stopped in Bend, OR, so that we might visit an old friend of mine. Then I got a recording saying her phone had been disconnected. I borrowed a phone book from the customer service desk at Sears, and found that she wasn’t listed there. Rather than totally drop in cold (and she lives way out in the boonies and last time E and I stopped there it was an ordeal to get our motorhome turned around and back out to the main road) we decided to just attempt to contact her by Facebook this week and maybe visit on our way back through.
We had an approximate destination plugged into his GPS, and a couple of maps.
I happened to be looking at a map and noticed that the route he’d chosen out of the Bend/Sisters, OR area via GPS appeared to be a lot longer distance than this other highway, 242. They were both skinny red line highways on the map. I mentioned that 242 looked a lot shorter, so he said “Okay, let’s take that then. It’s up to you.”
Note to self: Never go by the “shorter” lines on the map. Trust your GPS.
The big painted sign that read “LAST CHANCE TURNAROUND! VEHICLES OVER 35′ PROHIBITED!” should have been our first clue.
And so began 55 miles of scary-death-road-driving.