Perhaps Idaho doesn’t spring immediately to mind as a summer vacation destination. But I had been getting a touch of cabin fever, I’d heard good things about Coeur d’alene, and it is only about a six hour drive from home. So I packed up, got MBW and the HA in the car, and we headed northeast for a mini-vacation.
I usually take a vacation around late March. This year was no exception. MBW, the HA, and I jetted off to Florida. At the recommendation of a fraternity brother, we booked a week in Destin, located on the coast in the Florida panhandle.
I understand there is some sort of kerfuffle going on in the world. People panicking, going into lockdown mode. I’ve been sitting on the beach, sipping cold beer, and listening to the waves come in. We all react to existential threats in our own way, I suppose.
Writing this post gives me chance to rest from constant repetition of “wow.” MBW, the HA, and I are in Flagstaff, Arizona. We’ve been placing an unconscionable number of miles on our rental car, touring the state. Pardon me while I write, instead of utter, “wow.”
I’m on the cusp of vacation and it couldn’t come soon enough.
Things are proceeding well enough, I suppose, they’re simply — incomplete. Case in point: I’ve got half the White Tree of Gondor on my bedroom wall. The right side, as you’re facing it, to be exact. See, many moons ago MBW expressed the desire to enhance the bedroom wall with some artwork. Fine with me. Though I admit some trepidation: What sort of artwork? As a purely precautionary measure, I found an image of the aforementioned tree online and showed it to MBW. She’s not particularly a genre fan, though she enjoyed LOTR (books and films.) To my relief she expressed immediate enthusiasm. (Take a look, it is a handsome bit of design.) Anyway, an attempt at a homemade projector, pencil tracing, and painting ended unsatisfactorily a few months back. We decided to try again with a large decal.
I want to share a few thoughts on Loreto, Mexico, but first a public service announcement: Traveling with an infant severely modifies the vacation dynamic.
More on that later.
The transition from Portland rain to Baja sun proved disconcerting for the bambina. (See, more on that already.) What can you expect from someone born in Portland in late November? This kind of heat is an entirely new and unpleasant experience for her.
I, on the other hand, am enjoying this brief excursion to a sunnier clime.
It is possible to pack in a lot of fun over a weekend, especially when you cut out early on Friday. (It’s OK, I requested the time off officially.) It’s important to break routine, to get away from our usual haunts and activities. If not, we stagnate, even if our usual haunts and activities are pretty damn keen to begin with.
The Oregon coast, for those of you not familiar with it, does not provide that So-Cal bikini and surfer dude vibe. Yes there are surfers out catching waves but they are few – and wearing wetsuits. The August beach goers along the Oregon coast are tossing tennis balls to romping dogs, flying kites, carving three-wheel tracks in the sand on rented tricycles, setting out a picnic, piling up wood for evening bonfires. And toting a sweater, just in case.
Now it wasn’t all vacation. I did get some writing done in the hotel. And I spent some time searching for sasquatch, though I never did catch a glimpse.
But I was primarily interested in recreation, recharging my batteries. I got in nine-holes of golf, tossed the frisbee on the beach, and sampled some beer. I chanced upon a copy of M.A.R. Baker’s “Flamesong” for three dollars at a used book store. And I was able to hear your favorite band http://www.redelvises.com/ play in a small venue. There is a certain increased immediacy to the music when the musicians perform in a small pub without a stage or any sort of barrier between them and the audience.
So with the batteries recharged, bring on the work week. I’m ready.