Blog Archives

We’re No Donner Party


 

In my last post (https://genericdad.com/2010/09/01/cant-we-all-just-get-well/ ) I teased a review of our first family trip to the mountains of New Mexico.  2 kids, 2 frazzled parents and a wagon full of belongings… 

My family recently acquired a cabin in the Sierra Bonita mountains of New Mexico.  Upon hearing this news we decided that we must get up there and check the place out immediately.  The long Labor Day weekend provided just such an opportunity to embark on a most memorable journey. 

Wagon Training 

Is that freedom Rock? TURN IT UP!

Based on previous expeditions, we knew that Lil B was not a good passenger and so we decided to hitch up our wagon and ride to Amarillo late Thursday night.  The theory behind riding at night is simple.  The kids are used to sleeping during this time and they tend to sleep much the same during travel.  The first leg of the journey starts flawlessly.  We hit our schedule to be on the trail by 7:00pm.   The only significant event from this leg of the journey was the awesome Pink Floyd-like lightning show that we were treated to for two hours.  The subsequent huge thunderstorm with high winds and torrential rains was not quite as entertaining.  Regardless, we pressed on and made it to Amarillo in near record time. 

Rocky Road 

slight exaggeration

After a brief overnight stay in Amarillo, we hit the trail for leg two of our expedition.  This leg of the journey was one of the more difficult to endure for several reasons.  The first reason being that we had joined into and official wagon train with my family and being from a small town, they do not like to ride on major trails.  This forces the wagon train off the beaten path so-to-speak.  In fact, there was a portion of the this leg where the trail degraded from paving-to dirt-to-boulders. Yes, I said boulders…Imagine yourself trying to navigate an unfamiliar trail littered with boulders while the wagon that you are following kicks up so much dust that you cannot see the trail to avoid the larger boulders, so you inevitably hit all of them.  Couple that with a one year-old screaming at the top of his lungs because he is being tossed around like my skid-stained undies in the dryer. Regardless, we pressed on and were eventually rewarded with the site of a beautiful log cabin…where our right rear tire immediately deflated due to the boulder gash it received on the way in. 

Tranquility 

The next 48 hours are almost blissful enough to make one forget about the arduous journey that had just transpired, nor dwell on the one that lie ahead…almost.  There is just something about being in the mountains that washes away all of my stress and my problems fade to the back of my mind.  I don’t know if it’s a lack of oxygen due to the altitude, or maybe I am just at home in the mountains.  I truly hope that I end up living in a mountainous location some day,  but I digress.  I got to take M fishing for the first time and it was a beating to say the least (could be an entire post of  its own).  However, she had fun with her cousin of similar age throwing rocks and catching crawfish.  She also got to take her first (of many) ride on a 4-wheeler with her Grampy, which she loved.  Lil B was happy just to have someone hold him and he even got to taste test many of the indigenous rocks.  Grammy saved the day by bringing the girls their own new backpacks crammed with activities.  They had a blast. 

 

  

Paradise Lost 

Of course we knew that the trip had to end, but as we were loading up the wagons I could not help but feel as though we had just gotten there.  The third leg of our expedition got off to a rough start.  We stopped no less than three times to let Cousin A tinkle, then we made the mistake of stopping for lunch in one of the desolate towns down the mountain.  A long hour later we are back in the wagons and headed east to Amarillo.  Just as we reach what has to be the absolute middle of nowhere, we see a sign “DWI Checkpoint Ahead”.  WTF?  That can’t be right, can it?  As we top the next hill we are greeted to six NM state troopers at the intersection of state highway X and nowhere road Y.  I am sure I was missing something, but there just didn’t seem to be enough traffic on the back roads of eastern NM to warrant a six-vehicle DWI checkpoint…thank God I only do heroin.  After the mystery checkpoint we arrive in Amarillo for a brief overnight stay. 

Wit’s End 

The fourth and final leg of the journey was a blur because I had to find a happy place within.  Somewhere between Vernon and Wichita Falls I am contemplating those skiddy drawers again.  Only this time I am thinking of using them to gag my screaming son.  Poor little guy is just not built for the road.  On the bright side I think he may have a future in opera.  At one point of the final leg my 3 year-old had to intervene and put a stop to bickering going on in the front seat.  It is at this point that I check out for the rest of the way home.  The wagon and horses were on cruise control…and so was I. 

We Shall Return 

We will be going back to NM for sure.  However, our wagon training days are officially over.  I love you, Southwest Airlines…and I love your free drink tickets. 

 

 

Can’t We All Just Get…Well?


In order for you all to experience what it has been like at my house for the past couple of weeks, I need to take you on a cinematic trip down memory lane.  Picture little Gordie LaChance sitting around the campfire regaling his pals with the “Barf-o-rama” story in the classic film, Stand By Me. “Lardass! Lardass, Lardass”, the crowd chants as David “Lardass”  Hogan eats his way to victory in a pie-eating contest.  Then it hits…the castor oil and raw egg make their comeback .  “Slowly a sound started to build in Lardass’ stomach. A strange and scary sound like a log-truck coming at you at a hundred miles an hour. Suddenly, Lardass opened his mouth. And before Bill Travis knew it, he was covered with five pies worth of used blueberries. The women in the audience screamed. Bossman Bob Cormier took one look at Bill Travis and barfed on Principal Wiggins. Principal Wiggins barfed on the lumberjack that was sitting next to him. Mayor Grundy barfed on his wife’s tits. But when the smell hit the crowd, that’s when Lardass’ plan really started to work. Girlfriends barfed on boyfriends. Kids barfed on their parents. A fat lady barfed in her purse. The Donnelly-twins barfed on each other. And the women’s auxiliary barfed all over the Benevolent Order of Antelopes. And Lardass just sat back and enjoyed what he created. A complete and total Barf-A-Rama.”

Of course, this is a slight embellishment with regard to what has recently transpired in my house.  We may not have had the Benevolent Order of Antelopes, but we had two toddlers and a mommy doing there best impressions of this classic movie scene.  Part of me wishes that we had all concrete floors so that I could bring the hose in like they do at the zoo in the elephant cage.  As it stands right now, I feel like I am constantly wading in vomit and feces remnants and it’s quite disgusting.  I see little food items on the floor and I don’t know if they came from my toddlers dropping them, or projectile spewing them.  I do know this: small trash cans make good barf buckets and baby diapers cannot hold back the full fury of an infant’s diarrhea bomb.

On a lighter note, I think that everyone is feeling much better.  We rung in Lil B’s 1st birthday last weekend, and we are taking our first trip as a family unit this coming holiday weekend.  We are headed to the mountains of New Mexico for some family time, fishing, and relaxation.  I will post a mountain trip review upon our return…if we actually make it back.  I encourage any of you to stop by our house and disinfect the dump while we are gone.  I will understand if you have to chalk up a total loss and just set the place on fire.  Until our return, I bid you all a happy Labor Day.