Two Weeks of Crazy - Part Two

You know that feeling when you're so stressed out that you feel like your head might actually pop off of your body?  That's how I felt on Friday, July 29th as we transitioned from a week of ridiculous, over the top luxury to a 45 foot space...for six people.  After disembarking from Celebrity Solstice, we recovered our RV and drove to Bellingham, WA where we provisioned for the week, did laundry, and basically got our act together for the next big thing.  Why we did these two trips back to back is beyond me.  I suppose we thought we'd be in the area, so why not. But good grief, never again.

We chartered a 45 foot monohull with the idea that we needed a good test on one.  The idea was to see whether we could live on a monohull versus a catamaran. We had really only ever considered a cat before this.   The result was, in a word, no.  Nope. No way. No, no, no.   As it turns out, I hate heeling in a boat more than I remembered.   I love to sail in a cat. Everything stays level, more or less. In a monohull, I can tolerate up to a 25 degree heel and then I want to scream.  It might have helped if I had grown up on the water, but I didn't.  My first experience sailing was at Fair Hills Resort in Detroit Lakes, MN.  On a catamaran.  We owned an 18 foot Hobie cat for 10 years and then spent that week on one last December.  Maybe if I'd only done the monohull thing first, I'd feel differently. But for me, now, there is no going back. 

Once I got over the terror of sailing it, we had a lovely time.  We got to see some absolutely beautiful places in the San Juan Islands and, as a bonus, got to be the first to try out the owner's new dinghy:

On our first day out, a pod of orcas went right past the boat!  So, already, I was feeling like the discomfort was worth it.  And a beautiful hike through the Roche Harbor sculpture garden helped as well:

Since I know that our eventual goal is to be on a sailboat, I feel like I should spent a bit more time explaining why, for me, the debate between monohull and catamaran is settled, once and for all.  I actually feel that I could get used to the boat tipping over every time the wind changes, but only if I'm on deck.  Being below and, heaven forbid, trying to cook while that's happening would make me seasick beyond words.  The rolling motion of the cat is very different.  You stay flat and hit the waves head on.  That's not always pleasant either, but at least I can retain my balance. 

Then there's the actual living space.  Even my 10 and 11 year old children said the berths were too much like coffins.  Everyone was banging their heads on various parts of the boat all week long.  Going down below for everything became not just irritating but separated all of us constantly.  Once we were all down there and eating supper, for example, it was fine. But the transitions were very tricky.  My mom actually had a mini breakdown at the beginning of the week.  We both had to have an attitude adjustment in the form of margaritas before we could continue. In short, I will never willingly do that again.   Even the RV is more pleasant, because at least you can pass each other without sidestepping and there's plenty of headroom.  Okay, rant over.  It really was a beautiful week, and I'm grateful for the chance to see the beautiful waters of San Juan Islands.

And I was left with this: Saturday, we said goodbye to my mom and to my stepson.  We likely will not see them again until Christmas.  That's a hard thing when you're used to having these people a short drive away.  Thank goodness for the internet.

Two Weeks of Crazy - Part One

I'm not kidding, the last two weeks were just nuts. This was the scene at the start of the madness:

The Alaskan cruise departing from Seattle followed almost a year of planning, driving, flying and coordinating.  The night before, my mom and stepson had arrived at the campground at which we were staying.  We slept, badly in my case, got up on the 22nd and drove the 33 foot RV through the narrow streets of Seattle.  It's not for the feint of heart.  I hope to never repeat that experience.  The only cities I'd guess could be worse are Washington, DC, New York City and San Francisco. 

The cruise was, as imagined, amazing.  Every aspect, from the size of the ship to the size of the glaciers, was overwhelming. I'm sure I'll be processing each memory over and over for the next decade. After a first day at sea, we caught our first glimpse of Alaska in Ketchikan:

 A more charming view, I simply can't imagine. The entire town is just, plain "cute".  We had excursions planned, and they exceeded expectations.  One of the highlights for me was spotting an eagle nest with a couple of hatchlings in it.  They were just starting to leave the nest.  As we watched, mom came back and chewed them out.  Not so different from humans, I suspect. 

Mom: "I said, get back in there!  You do not have permission to be out here!"
Kids: "But we're hungreeeeee!"
Mom: "I said now, and I mean it."
Kids: "But mooooom!"

This went on for a couple of minutes before mom flew off in disgust, probably to find more fish, poor woman.

The next day was Juneau, also amazing.  Then, it was time to see a glacier.  Yes, the glaciers are rapidly receding and that alone was pretty scary.  But faced with one, it does not seem possible that there could be more ice.  It simply took my breath away.  Our captain was delightful and did a "donut" in front of this monster so that everyone on board could get a good look:

After Skagway, we headed back down south to Victoria and the Butchart Gardens.  "Spectacular" could cover it, but I'll add "sweat" to that description.  The maintenance and upkeep simply defies explanation. 

So, would we go on a cruise again?  Definitely.  My advice for anyone wanting to do it would be to just get the best package you can afford, right off the bat.  It's nice not to have to think about what drinks you can or can not order.  We went through a fantastic travel agent, and would not do it again without her help. 

We saw humpback whales bubble feeding, a baby bear and a beautiful national forest.  We ate, ate and then ate some more. I spent quality time with my kids, my husband, my stepson, and my mom.   And we ended the week dizzy from the experience. 

But it was only to continue the following week with a charter sailing experience. See the next installment for that!

Custer, Glacier and Flathead, OH MY!

Custer first.  Was he basically the first American Rock Star?  When he died, they said the "flower of the army" had been killed.  How charismatic must he have been to be a celebrity without Entertainment Tonight or Facebook?  My overall impression of the Battle of Little Big Horn is that it was so wasteful.  The US Government should not have been there at all.  Breaking a treaty after less than a decade should be the story, right?  Yet, in many history books, it's the ambush and the spectacular battle that takes center stage.  Oh well.  At least my kids know the real story now, and what a lesson it was.  If the chance arises to visit, do.  The bus tour, the talk by a ranger, all of it. It's impressive and moving.

Next was the Beartooth Mountains. Yes, it really does look like this.

Beartooth was an unexpected trip.  We had to stop for repairs (go figure) in Billings.  Man, what a difference an excellent mechanic makes. I was tempted to invite the guys at Top Tech along on our trip.  While we did have to hang out for three days, they gave us a car to use and lots of advice on what to see. We would never have gone to chipmunk paradise without their recommendation.  It was absolutely crazy.  Several, nay dozens, of fat little chipmunks swarm the humans at a vista pullover. We were forewarned: Bring sunflower seeds or be bereft.  Better advice, my daughter has never received.  She would have stayed there all day as the fat little beggars took the seeds straight from her hand.  These are not wild chipmunks any longer. We have spoilt them silly.  Their little cheeks were so full that they would vanish into holes, undoubtedly to spit some out, before running back for more.

The repairs done(ish), we moved on to Glacier National Park.  It's such a cliche, but around every curve was another breathtaking view.  If you're into scenery, this is your heaven.

It's just one spectacular view after another.  We attempted the shuttle to the top, but it was overcast and 40 degrees.  Yeah, not so much.  Back down the mountain we went.  And now we're at Flathead Lake.  I wish the beauty were easy to describe, but of course it isn't.  I don't have enough adjectives.  We will be in this adorable campground (Rollins, by the way - I highly recommend it) until Saturday when it's on to Idaho.  We have to cut Banff out of our journey this summer due to the time constraints.  We are Seattle-bound, after all. I don't have the slightest idea how it will feel after that, to have no further deadlines on our schedule.  I can't even grasp it.

So - are we adventuring now?  I think so, yes.   The kids are fighting.  I am using my Instant Pot, but we're still eating out more than we'd like.  We are homeschooling, more effectively when we have internet access.  And we are starting to see some really beautiful things.  We have made an appointment in Bellingham, WA for the RV, poor old thing.  I don't believe the previous owners did a thing toward maintaining her.  So she's getting the works with us.  Everywhere we stop, she gets a little TLC.  A new exhaust manifold in Shakopee. A new steering suspension in Alexandria.  New brake pads and axel in Billings.  And an air conditioning tune up in Bellingham.  Clever girl, choosing us as her new owners. 

Maintenance, Mustangs and Mud!

Well, we made it this far, but barely! The repairs on a 1998 RV are extensive and expensive!  Good thing we no longer have a house payment! hahaha  Yes, one must laugh or one would be loony tunes.  Both our house and one of the town homes we owned have officially closed.  We are no longer residents of Minnesota. We signed on with Good Sam RV Club and got a Florida address through them.  The mail forwarding service should work...I say should because for the last several weeks, I've been writing 7/ on all of the documents I've been filling out instead of 6/.  Why, you ask?  Because I'm numerically challenged, that's why.  Someone else had to tell me recently that I was 48 years old this year, not 49.  Hey, I'm really good at cooking pasta al dente, okay?  We all have our strengths.  So, anyway, our mail might have to be sorted by the new owners at Old Brick Yard Road for a few weeks.  

We're currently camping out in Medora, North Dakota at the southern edge of Theodore Roosevelt National Park. The weeks of goodbyes to family and friends has come to an end, and now we're on our own. I really hope I like these people. Don't let this picture fool you.  This was a brief moment of happiness in a day filled with whining and crabbiness about so much walking and how hot it is! Ethan actually expressed a desire for winter.  I can not relate.

 As of tomorrow, we'll be in uncharted territory (for us).  Obviously, a bunch of people charted it before we got here, so this is pretty easy stuff.  Google tells us where to stop for new shock absorbers (we desperately need these - I'm losing fillings by the hour), and Roadtrippers points out all of the sites to see along the way.  Good Sam gets us the rest of the way.  It's a much smaller world than it used to be.  No one should hesitate to strike out.  The infrastructure in the US is here for you.

I can't say I'm feeling the adventure yet. I'm still very comfortable. All of this is so familiar. I went to high school in Bismarck, so it's not my first trip to TRNP.  I've been here at least a dozen times.  It's awe-inspiring in its beauty. And I got a special treat today.  It's not every visit that you get to see wild horses, and even rarer to see them with their babies. 

Our next scheduled stop is Custer's Last Stand in Montana. I've never been there, so maybe then this will sort of sink in a bit more, that this is actually our life now.  So far, it still kind of feels like a long road trip vacation.  Except for the repairs. That part definitely hits the reality bone. 

Speaking of sinking in (ha! Segue alert!), I am not known for my love of filth. But if you ever get the chance to sink your toes into the mud of the Little Missouri River banks, do it!  It feels delightful...to a point, of course.  And then you just want to wash off your feet.   I wonder if RVing will be similar.

A very eventful month

Wow!  If I think back to the last blog entry, it seems like it should have been months and months ago. That's what happens when events crowd together in rapid succession.  After the Wisconsin tour, we spent the weekend visiting friends and catching up on the house business.  Monday, we took the RV in to the shop for what we thought would be a couple of days.  We didn't get it back until Friday, the day we were to leave the Twin Cities.  In the interim, we saw friends, closed on the house and the townhouse, finished cleaning out the house and wasting a lot of time in a hotel room.  Finally, Friday arrived and we picked up the RV just as rush hour was starting. Now, if you haven't tried to get out of Minneapolis on a Friday afternoon, allow me to explain.  There are two and sometimes three lanes of traffic.  Everyone is trying to get to their cabins or simply home from work so that they can go to their cabins.  The maximum speed from 2:30pm until about 8pm is 30 miles per hour.  There might be a trickster stretch of 65, but that's an anomaly and soon corrected.

As we maneuvered through this maze in our newly fixed RV, we resigned ourselves to a long drive.  We braked for a particularly slow section and the rig started to shudder.  Hard.  It stopped and we resumed, though a little more cautiously this time.  It happened again.  And then again.  And we were now the people on the side of the road that others look at and say, "Wow, that would suck."  The thing is, though, it really didn't. Not really. I mean, we were at home, after all. We had a side of the road sing along and hastily packed a bag before calling my mom to come and rescue us (along with a really big tow truck).  Funny, we had just signed up for Roadside Assistance at the hotel a couple of days before.  We made it through Wisconsin without issue, but suddenly 60 miles from home we needed the tow truck.

It's hard to feel too sorry for us.

So, what's next?  Well, this until we hear from the new shop.  They have tested the RV and found nothing wrong with it.  You'd think this would be happy news, but I'd actually rather they pinpoint the issue and fix it.  I don't really want to be driving up a mountain pass in Montana when this happens again. Meanwhile, my mom's place is pretty amazing.  There's food, a place to sleep and a free view.  Thinking that we have to be somewhere is going to be a hard habit to give up.  We're working on it this week.

Whirlwind Tour of Wisconsin - Check!

Our first major test of the RV is at an end and it performed.  It didn't perform well, but it did get us home safely. I give credit where credit is due.  It goes in on Monday for a complete tune up and not a moment too soon.  Apparently, if you let it sit somewhere for a couple of days, it is reluctant to get moving again...kind of like me that way.  I can definitely get into the habit of lazing about.   But it did eventually get us back to Minnesota.  We covered over 800 miles on this trip, so I think the guts of this rig are A-Ok. 

There was a tremendous amount of socializing and this coming week looks to be much of the same. We'll be saying goodbye to many dear friends.  But our hope is that with technology, we can stay in touch.  With so much chatting, I'll admit to longing for some down time.  I do wonder.  How many days and nights with just the four of us does it take for me to long for a chat with a friend?  I guess we're going to find out. 

We are planning on being back here next summer. A couple of people thought we should return in time for Christmas.  Ha! First of all, the RV lumbers along at 60 mph maximum.  I think Henry pushes it to 65 sometimes and it whines like a four-year-old.  "Ugh, do I have to?" 

It takes a long time to get anywhere. Also, avoiding Minnesota in the winter is one of the reasons we're doing this, so thanks but no thanks.  However, it's hard to beat the summers here.  This is the Wisconsin State Park we stayed in last night:

Willow River State Park

It's idyllic, no?  I was reminded of a Robert Frost poem Ethan's 5th grade class recited at their Moving Up (to middle school) ceremony a couple of short weeks ago.  

"Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference."

You see, most of what we saw and did in Wisconsin was known to us.  The people we visited and the places we stayed were not new.  But at the end of the trip, we stayed here - and explored.  Going forward, most everything we do will be forging into the unknown.   I foresee many beautiful places along the journey, new friends and lots more exploration.

...I hope there will be laundromats.   Exploring, as it turns out, is sweaty business. 

A Whirlwind Tour of Wisconsin

Nine days, eight siblings and spouses/significant others, four towns, and assorted nieces and nephews.  We have been busy, and my brain is numb!  Every day has been full to brimming, and a few things are starting to shake out. 

The RV is plenty big.  Really! We have plenty of space and there are plenty of ways to get away from each other if a break is needed.  The cooking, though we've done very little of it on this trip, is a cinch.  Ethan makes his own eggs with ease, and I'm already used to doing dishes by hand.  In fact, instead of hating it, I find it comforting.  It allows me a sense of accomplishment as well.  

The RV is no fun to drive. Really!  You might think how nice it would be to get up and move around during a long road trip. But the reality, in this RV at least, is that the moment you are released from your seat belt and on your feet you are longing to sit down and put it back on. To say that you are unstable while moving about is a gross understatement.  Sailboats on the ocean are flatter than this beast when moving.  And every bump on the road is shimmying up your spine at 55 miles an hour.  This is not a smooth ride. I'm starting to even question whether it has anything for shock absorption but its own weight.  

A couple of the highlights of the trip!  When we arrived in Hawkins, Wisconsin to see Henry's mother, about the first thing he did was drive it into a soft spot in the yard. I chuckled, though only quietly to myself, (I'm not a complete idiot) because I had suggested asking where to park.  But no no, we don't ask such things.  We simply do!  This is the result:

Five hours later, we were out but not without a lot of elbow grease. Ultimately, it came down to knowing someone with a tractor.   I hate to think what would have happened without Henry's brother. Actually, all of his siblings are amazing.  If one of them needs help, they are on it. And they really don't quit until it's done.  I'm a bit different.  I took one look at the above and reached for my phone to call a towing company.  This, "oh no, we can do it ourselves" thing is foreign to me.  And in case it wasn't already clear, my own elbow grease was nowhere near this disaster.  I was inside with a book.

We have been welcomed everywhere we've been, and I'm so grateful to Henry's family.  Because of them, we have gotten to see the inner workings of a dairy farm, the Wisconsin State Capitol and an amazing greenhouse. Our kids are getting a fun, interactive education.

And then, there was this.

This is why we are doing what we're doing.  A random "overlook" on a highway exit sounded appealing, so we just stopped. And it was spectacular.  If you have wondered why we sold all of our stuff, why we quit our jobs or why we are willing to live in an RV, this sums it up.  We felt like stopping.  So we did.