Apocalypse 2016 aka, Family Road Trip

Nothing says America and Summertime like an Epic Roadtrip. This was our year. Tobias was raring to get out and bring his childhood fantasies to life of cruising the country with a tent and seedy motels galore. I was ready to get inspired by the freedom of the open road. Espen wanted to go camping.

Not one week after Tobias returned from a business trip to Denmark, we packed up Dantes, our trusty Subaru and headed south.

It was a late start, but we didn't care. After a leisurely meal of delicious Thai food, we were on the road, feeling smug about having weathered evening rush hour in style. The freeway was clear and we were giddy about the possibilities or fun and relaxation.

Until we hit our exit. Which just so happened to be gridlocked.

After advancing several cars over 4 light cycles, we began to get a sense of the raw power of situational variables, like traffic accidents...and 3 year old sleep patterns.

Espen passed out promptly at 8.32PM as we cruised towards Lincoln City. A full 1.5 hours after his bedtime, we felt confident that he would make a smooth transition to the tent as we set it up around 9.30.

Which he did, until about midnight thirty. From then until sunrise (read 5AM) he was an unending reprisal of "I want to go hommmmmmeeeee! I have to peeeee! Aaaaaaa!" Poor little dude was totally giddy by the time Tobias packed him off to the lake to try a little fishing.

That whole day we were a collective heap of sleep deprived delight as we swished south, marveling at the beauty of the Oregon Coast and taking extra long breaks to play guitarlele and watch grumpy old men fish off of rocky precipices.

In hindsight, this may or may not have been the reason we ended up at Sandland in Florence, Oregon, signed up for the mythic "sandrail" tour. It was billed as "the fast ride" and since Tobias was in charge of making the entertainment choices at this stop, we opted for "fast and fun" over "slow and sleepy".

When we got to the staging area, I began to get a sense of impending intensity. Espen was given a helmet and goggles, we were snapped into four point harnesses, handed our own goggles and that was it.

If you have ever experienced a completely new physical sensation that equally terrified and delighted you, access said memory now.

Having never ridden on a sandrail, I had no idea what to expect of the physical capabilities of said machine nor the speeds and angles at which it operated.

Imagine a roller coaster trampoline without rails. At 70 miles per hour. Rocketing around with other roller coaster trampolines and no apparent rules of engagement.

We plunged straight down vertical dune faces and were baptized in waves of sand. As a bonus, we received sand facials as well. We careened around dune faces, hugging the contours like bikers in a velodrome. Physics and force were our only hopes for survival.

Both Tobias and I agreed that we would be hard pressed to recall an experience (read 30 minutes) of such terror and thrill. Espen said "I want to go back now" about halfway through, but by the time we returned, he was sobbing.

"I want to go on another sandrail! Nowwwwww!"

That night, Tobias had his dream of a seedy motel stay come true. Right down to the carpeted podium that the mini-fridge sat on and the white rock facade on the building itself.

Espen however, was having way too much fun to sleep and remained unconvinced of bedtime until nearly 10PM. Up again at 5.

We made it to Brookings the next day, having another fantastic waking period of visiting a petting zoo in Bandon, Oregon, stopping at farmers markets and just generally living it up. The energy of a road trip is truly miraculous, making even the most sleep deprived humans feel that much more connected to the magic happening all around. Just don't ask anyone to be particularly patient or clear headed.

That said, we flew kites right up until dark, having learned our lesson the last two days. As it was the 4th of July weekend, camping was unavailable and we were feeling too free spirited to take the few random places we ran across. Surely there would be others. Well, there was a motel. So what. We took it and ran.

By the fourth day, we were pretty much running on pure will, but there is quite a supply of that in the Eld-Mathis clan. Fortunately for us, it got us all the way to the majestic redwoods and the Jedadiah Smith Campground. At 9AM. That's after a full breakfast, beach hike and lazy meander through town. So you just guess what time we woke that morning.

The benefit of getting a campground so early on the 2nd of July is that you are first in line for the free 1 night campsites. And that was good. Until I saw the sign advertising an inquisitive and aggressive bear population.

Instantly I was transported back to childhood and mom advising us to be particularly careful when in the woods whilst menstruating.

I quickly consulted the interwebs for studies supporting or refuting this claim and came up empty handed. In my sleep deprived state, I reached for the only straw I could discern. The female park ranger.

"Listen," I said, leaning across Tobias, "I know this may sound a bit paranoid, but I just started my period and there are bears here...can you just put my mom's advice to rest....?"

She looked at me blankly and then threw back her head and laughed. Outright, loud, laughter.

"Are you serious?" she asked, genuinely relishing what appeared to be a youtube moment.

"I know. But my MOM told me...I just need some help here."

She smiled humoringly.

"They aren't sharks. The want food. Not blood."
"Alright. We'll take the camp site."

We left to explore and kill some time until the campsite freed up at 2pm. Which left many hours. Luckily, we stumbled upon a farmer's market in Crescent City and Espen discovered a school bus boutique that I had failed to take him into.

"MAMA!!!! I WANT TO GO IN THE BUS!!!! TAKE ME NOWWWWWWWWWWW!"

One important lesson I learned is that when EVERYONE is sleep deprived, the normally loud yells of a sleepy kid become even louder. Like fourth dimension loud.

And you better believe that the boundary holding and solid parenting from a place of peace was a bit out of reach. Espen got carried around A LOT more than he normally does these days, but who cared.
We figured he'd either learn to walk himself around at some point in his life or not. Whatever.

Somehow, after the farmer's market, our spirits both overwhelmed by all the people and renewed by the coffee and chai, we set off down a trail into the redwoods called Damnation Creek. Probably should have paid a bit more attention to the name, but damn were the trees big and beautiful.

Espen, to his extreme credit, walked nearly all of the 2.5 miles DOWN to the beach. Tobias carried him nearly all the 2.5 miles UP from the beach. Again, we were certain that Espen would sleep like the proverbial log when we arrived at camp to set up right around bedtime.

We were mistaken once again. This was largely in part to the fact that a full scale family reunion was taking place in the campsites immediately adjacent to us. They were delighted to see each other and very vocal about it. By 8.30, Espen was lying on an angle between our huge blow up mattress and his smaller kid mattress. Cackling. Throwing himself about. I was nearly hysterical with exhaustion and fury.

Somehow, we all ended up in the family car, driving towards some random road supposedly filled with huge redwoods. It was really more of an emotional hostage situation, with me as the captor and Espen and Tobias as the abductees. That may have been the point I uttered the words, "I am done with this trip." Why I didn't stay in the campsite I can only chalk up to clouded logic.

All of this to say, when we returned to our campsite at 10PM, Espen went right to sleep, but the neighbors partied on. I "requested" that Tobias go talk to them, which he gallantly did, allowing us to finally get a few hours of sleep from 11.30 til dawn, when Espen was up and now, clearly operating in an altered state. Gone was our good natured boy who greets us in the morning with smiles and "Get up, mama!"

Armed with tears, shrieks and ultimately a goofy sense of humor that involved saying "Why Helooooo there!" to everyone that came to the water faucet by our campsite, Espen inspired an early departure to the river. After a visit to the Oregon Caves on our rapid return north, we rolled back into Everly the eve of July 4th and collapsed into a stinky heap of grateful travelers.

I've never seen a kid so happy to be back home. He was almost incandescent with gratitude for the familiar.

And though I made a vow I would not go camping for the next 5 years, after three days of sleep, I might reconsider. Such magnificent highs. Such cataclysmic lows...such Life!