Rowan knows: of course you play in waterfalls!My sister-in-law says this blog makes it look like we got lost in Hells Canyon and never returned. That’s not the case.
For our final road trip adventure, we rode the mail boat through Hells Canyon for two days, along with 40 other mostly-retired folks. The boys were stars, helping to deliver the mail and schlepp baggage. The watchful eyes of so many surrogate grandparents made it possible for mom and I to chat out personalities from the anonymous crowd while the boys explored. Collin fished, Rowan collected rocks, we all played in a waterfall, and I walked through a storm of bats in the pre-dawn glow. It was hot, dusty, rustic and all-together the perfect way to spend our last two days.
At the end, our road trip included:
- 18 days
- 3,565 miles
- 1,102 pictures taken
- 1 speeding ticket
- 7 national parks
- 5 junior ranger awards
- 23 different kinds of wildlife encountered that we’d never seen before
- 1 bottle of rhubarb wine: not recommended
- 3 days with undrinkable morning coffee
- Countless meals served with fries
- 3 corny/fabulous old-west extravaganzas
- 10 now-seems-silly bits of new cowboy gear
- 4 career/lifestyle epiphanies
- Way too many repetitions of Harry Belafonte’s Greatest Hits
This trip went incredibly well. We had very few mishaps and so didn’t reap as many story-worthy adventures as anticipated. What we gained, though, is better. By the end of the journey, Rowan and Collin became confident in themselves and in being out in the world. They met the eyes of strangers and made them friends. They learned to see paths leading around corners and into forests, then follow to see what might lie just out of sight. They gained an awareness of other people in a crowd and can now stand out of the way or assist others when needed. They know that when you drive really close to a waterfall, it’s important to roll the windows down if you want to feel it. They know that outside, it’s beautiful and precarious and waiting to be climbed and swam and hiked and photographed. Rowan sharpened his focus on the delicate small details, finding wonder in being still. Collin overcame his need to hold hands in the wild places, and is now perhaps too ready to just go for it.
Most importantly, we all now expect life to be full of adventure. It isn’t a question of if we’ll go again, but rather where, how often, and for how long. I’ve been working at home this past week, and I’m overjoyed to report that we’re pretty bored cooped up here. One of my deepest desires for my children is that they intuitively know how to go out and do things; how to move and see and touch and play and be fully alive in the world rather than sitting as the passive receptors of other people’s experiences. This road trip was a powerful start. Now to figure out what comes next!
Recommendations?
August 9th, 2008
You were all right. We did love Glacier National Park, especially after our depressing trek through eastern Montana. I’m now trying to figure out how to get back for a week next summer, because Glacier is clearly a place meant to be hiked and floated by grown-ups.
Today we get on a boat for two days down Hells Canyon. Then, home.
We’re looking forward to seeing everyone again. The boys miss their daddy, Mom misses Jeff, and I’m desperate to cook again. 3 more days!
July 23rd, 2008
Badlands: beautiful, but not tastyI’ve been following the posts on Our PDX Network, many of which are about local eating, bicycling, public transport, and other gifts of living in a city nestled in a fertile valley. Abundance.
I’ve driven nearly 2000 miles from Portland. We’ve gone to the geographic center of the United States in Belle Fourche and are now heading home. We’ve seen crops of potatoes, corn, wheat, and cows, but no green vegetables or fruit orchards. Groceries with produce sections seem to be spaced 200 miles apart, and their aisles are filled with Washington cherries, California tomatoes, and bagged spinach imported from who knows how many miles away.
Our bug-splattered Prius is usually the only one on the road, giving me a chance to share its virtues with many curious folk at rest stops. This should be more shocking given how far one must go for carrots, but it isn’t. The weather is dramatic here and the need to haul stuff long distances apparent. This is not bike-commuting country.
This landscape, while beautiful, is also harsh and a little bit scary. The possibility of an early death is clearer out here. “Caution! Bison gore visitors!”, harsh elements, and more cemeteries than produce aisles. The culture is rooted in religion and legends, celebrating heroes long gone, and kind of makes you want to wrap yourself in several tons of 4wheel drive security.
These places challenge me. I’m trying to teach my kids about sustainable living, local eating, and finding that balance between work and play that allows us to live responsibly, healthfully and joyfully. It’s one thing to bend the rules while on vacation, but what if they someday moved out here? How could they apply Portland ideals in this prairie environment? How could I?
The easiest answer is not to try - to make sure we always live somewhere abundant. That answer is uncomfortably narrow for me, though. I believe that successful ideals will be those that you can carry with you to new places and see reflected or at least possible in those you meet.
When as a child I moved from the logging towns into the city, formal organized religion quickly diminished then disappeared from my life. We went from 3-times-a-week thumpers to nothing in the course of under 3 years, because our strict denominational interpretation of salvation just didn’t hold up when I became friends with Muslims and Bahai and even some much-feared Catholics. I fear the same is true for the Portland lifestyle. Much of what I feel to be an expression of who I am, what I personally value, and how the world ought to move is really an expression of the Willamette Valley and our wonderful community of like-minded souls.
I think I will need to take the boys out of the valley again and often so we all can more keenly appreciate what a blessing it is to live where we do. And no, I’m not homesick enough to cut the trip short! Although getting out of Havre today will be very, very nice.
July 20th, 2008
Since Craters of the Moon, we’ve been through Yellowstone, Cody & Casper, Wind Cave, Custer, and Mt. Rushmore National Parks, and through the unexpectedly awesome Norbeck Scenic Byway. We’ve seen deer, elk, moose, bear, eagle, osprey, pelican, red-winged black birds, bison, pronghorn, mountain goat, swifts, trout, chipmunk, squirrels, prairie dogs, butterfly, dragonfly, some weird beetle thing, cows, donkeys, horses, and fluffy bunnies.
Within the confines of car and agenda, we are each provoked to both our best and worst without escape from observation. I’m proud to report that we’re doing very well. So far.
Rowan, the eldest, is the quintessential big brother. He uses words like “appropriate” and “needs adult supervision” and other tokens of young responsibility that should be so familiar to anyone who has ever been an oldest sibling, especially those who are themselves children of divorce or from other low-supervision roots. He’s now moving out of little boyhood into pre-teen, and aquiring the verbal ticks (like inserting a gutteral “ha” at the end of a sentence) that will help him move into more sophisticated circles. I am so glad we’ve gone on this trip now, before this new sophistication renders US history and natural wonders dull.
I suppose that most of us are transitioning from who we were yesterday into who we will be in the future, but with kids this is so much easier to see. Collin is at the end of his preschool period and leaping firmly into little boy land. He walked himself to the playground, leaps confidently into the deep end, and makes friends of other kids in minutes. Collin will do great in kindergarten next year.
Mom and I are not fighting, much to the amazement of my grandma, and we don’t intend to. We have been drinking more lately, but otherwise are holding up. Road trips are fun, and we’re good partners.
Pictures here.
July 16th, 2008
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