Bags and Baggage

The Family Camping Chronicles: Part II

I relegated myself to sleeping in a sleeping bag the other night.  No, it’s not like that.  I wasn’t in the wife’s doghouse.  There’s a perfectly good queen sized bed in one of the extra rooms that comes in very handy for when the kids visit or when the domestic seas get choppy.  My purpose this night was to test the bedding for the upcoming family camping trip. 

On Dirt, Beans and Wild West Whimsy

“Camping is nature’s way of promoting the motel business.”  ~ Dave Barry.

There’s a family camping trip looming on the horizon and I’ve spent the last few weekends gearing up.  I’ve made lists, rummaged through the big plastic bin in the backyard and a couple of garage cabinets; pulled plastic tubs from an attic storage area and crawled around some closets in the house.

To B & B or not to B & B?

It seemed the appropriate question as we surveyed our room at Anne Hathaway’s Bed and Breakfast in Ashland, Oregon.  Maybe survey isn't the right word.  Surveying conjures visions of a large expanse.  This room was tiny.  I suppose I should mention that this B & B, located in the home of The Oregon Shakespeare Festival is named after The Bard's better half and not the American actress.  Did I mention that it was small?The room was small enough that sitting on any edge of the bed I could reach out and touch a wall.  It wasn't big enough to swing the proverbial cat in.  I’m certain that at some point as I put our suitcase in the only place it would fit, under the bathroom sink and pondered the nightly rate that Lady Macbeth’s words came to mind; “What’s done cannot be undone.”

The American Adventure - The Open Road

It's July, 2013 and my wife Cora and I are taking a driving trip through Northern California and into Oregon. 

The wife and I have embarked on that great American summer adventure; that annual migration of the dog days; that paean to the interstate, the motorcar and fuel consumption; the modern day version of the pioneers’ tale – the road trip.  We've headed north from the San Francisco Bay to a distant, uncharted and exotic land – Oregon.  Okay, it’s not distant; it’s only 300 miles or so.  And it’s hardly uncharted.  After all I went out recently and bought a GPS so Oregon, the rest of this land and all of hell’s half acre are all pretty well charted.

High On Weed

It's July, 2013 and my wife Cora and I are taking a driving trip through Northern California and into Oregon.  Weed, California was our stopover on the way to Oregon. 

We pulled into Weed, California a little after 10 at night.  It was a five hour drive from the Bay Area in scorching heat and we’d decided that getting to our destination held more appeal than food.  Motel 6 never looked so good.  I was perfectly happy to shower and call it a night but Cora wanted dinner.  The desk clerk told us that the choices were the fast food joints a couple exits down the interstate or a place a few blocks down the road called the Hi Lo Café.