West Coast Family Vacation

We've uploaded a photo album of our West Coast trip earlier this month--click on the link, and come see some of what we saw in nine days out west!  Then leave a comment!

Things I Learned On Our West Coast Vacation

It had been a l-o-n-g time since I'd been out west, and several of the places we visited on our family vacation this summer were brand new to me.  Here's some of the discoveries I made along the way.

• It really is possible for it to rain in Death Valley.  We were there in a light mist, maybe 80 degrees, in early August even.  Doubtless a far, far better way to explore it than if it were 40 degrees warmer.
• That's not white sand in the pictures of Death Valley…it's salt crystals, leaching out of the parched and broken soil.
• It had been far too long since last I'd played blackjack, but playing against a three-deck shoe probably didn't help either.
• Trona, CA, is one of the most depressing places any of us have ever been to.  Run-down, unkept, just screaming "don't live here!" to anyone passing through.
• Go to Disney's California Adventure first thing in the day.  Everyone else went to Disneyland/the Magic Kingdom side, so we were essentially walking right up to rides for the first hour or two, including the Tower of Terror.  California Screamin' is a very good coaster ride.  The wait for the Cars ride was too long, but the ride itself went a long way towards redeeming it.
• Some of the rides (Matterhorn) really show their age.  Sarah found herself preferring Kings Dominion over most of the classic Disneyland rides.
• I bow to LA traffic as truly the worst in the nation.  It never stops!  There's never a time when there's not some miles-long backup as part of our day.  Get off the roads, people, and get into your offices!
• The geographic diversity of California is really amazing.  Dusty, dry deserts and steep rocky canyons to the south, foggy San Francisco, simply stunning coastal drives near Mendocino, and hairpin turns through redwood forests in the northern extremes. 770 miles long, and it shows it!
• The legacy of student protest remains at Berkeley.  Administration buildings never have two door handles, either one or none, so students can't chain administrators in (or out). Not sure that factoid sat too well with David or Sarah during their tour.
• The folks at Alcatraz have done a marvelous job preserving The Rock and the audio tour was great at relating stories and events.  In all the time I've spent in SF, I'd never been out there before, and was blown away at being able to see it all.
• Getting over the mountains to the Pacific Coast Highway was an adventure, with more switchbacks than I had counted on.  And the thick, thick forests and the first of the redwoods made it a dark and sometimes intimidating drive.  But, oh, once the coast pops into view…I know I've found a landscape I can wake up to each morning in retirement.
• I bought the most expensive gallon of gas I've ever bought in Mendocino, CA, within sight of the gorgeous Mendocino Bay.  $6.26 for a gallon of regular!
• I truly cannot recall having been to Redwoods National Park before, so being able to see what Mary remembered as a teen was special.  Again, up through the mountains with the switchbacks, before coming to the Lady Bird Johnson Grove and the mile-plus walk exploring those immense, ancient trees…stunning all in their own majesties.

Atlanta International Ballet

(I wrote this in the Delta SkyClub overlooking Terminal T and Terminal A at Atlanta in September, en route home from a terrific weekend in Houston with Glenn and his mom, helping them with a few projects.)

I have a terrible confession to make.  While I, like so many others, have my own stories of horror about bad airport experiences, on the whole I actually enjoy being at one.  I welcome the sense of adventure they represent.

I enjoy watching the busyness, the hurrying ballet of men and machines.  Perhaps the first thing to notice is the graceful pas-de-deux at a single gate.  The aircraft noses in to a gate while the ramp chief guides them in, with the final "X" of his sticks to stop it precisely as needed.  The trains of baggage carts snaking about.  Some of the baggage trains are purposeful: pulling up to a luggage ramp or taking loads from the plane to the baggage center.  Others, not so much, and it's harder to tell whether perhaps some cart driver isn't perhaps just out for a spin.  It's fun to guess which are which.

That same dance repeats itself over and over up and down the rows of gates, with aircraft pulling in, aircraft backing out, some headed left, some headed right.  Look along the ramp and see the different classes of aircraft, all wearing the same Delta livery: rows of MD-88s and 737s, the workhorses, bound for places such as Raleigh-Durham, or Baton Rouge, or Chattanooga.  And here and there, the majestic 747s, the impressive 777s, and perhaps a foreign-flagged A380, each bound for exotic locations such as Rome, Rio, or Johannesburg.  I sigh a little, never having been to any of those places, wondering what adventures could happen there, and marveling at the sense of possibility that inheres to each aircraft.

When the kids were younger, we'd actually do a day at the airport as a family event.  We would go to National Airport and sit in front of those enormous windows looking out onto the ramp and the runway.  David would point to a plane and ask where it was going; I would see it's a United flight, and they only go to Chicago from DCA, and so I could sound truly impressive by telling him "Chicago."  Or the American Airlines flights: "Miami or Dallas." And then of course he'd pick a US Airways flight, which of course could be going anywhere from DCA.  Smart kid, testing how much Dad knows.

Now that they're older, we don't do that anymore.  And as I begin to contemplate what retirement could be like someday, I do wish I could do more of this with Mary: exploring new cities, jetting off to a new adventure now and again.  For now I have to content myself with imagination and wonder, and appreciation for the subtle rhythms and the varieties, in an international airport.