Vacation
Alternatively titled, “How I Got Stuck Here, I Don’t Know.”
Yes, one of those vacations. At the outset of this year, the “family” (by which I am specifically referring to mothers, aunts, grandmothers, sisters, and other female relatives — you may guess, then, what pronouns such as “we,” “our,” and “us” refer to… guys) elected to go camping.
Ah, camping, the enthralling experience whereby one spends his or her entire morning, afternoon, evening, and night in the great outdoors (or in a wet, musky nylon and polyester bag called a “tent” — or “trap” in my case). I’ll try to go through this whole story chronologically and with minimal hyperbole, but please forgive me. My brain is shot, I’m not proofreading this entry (as it would only serve to open mental wounds that are still healing), and the trip is not over yet (I’m home, but the rest of the family is still out there in Junction).
Despite such a rare forewarning (as events even of this size are proposed with typically one- to two-week notice, sometimes to our preference), mass confusion ensued as this large group of people known as my family — or part of it — began traveling the 291 mile stretch of land that passes through Austin and, well, a great many abnormally shaped and sized hills.
It was Monday, 5am. I had awoken from just over three hours of sleep — uncomfortable sleep, mind you. At about 2 o’clock that morning, I managed to slump over on the couch in my bedroom (yes, I do have a couch in my bedroom) and crash, sleeping soundly, if uncomfortably, until my alarm clock/phone began yelling. No, seriously, the ring tone of the alarm clock is a song in which the vocalist yells… I’m young. What can I say?
Phones, vocalists, couches, and lack of sleep aside, I ambled downstairs in a half-asleep state of confusion and discovered my mom still hadn’t gone to bed. She was still packing. (Interestingly, she ended up not being able to fit it all in the vehicle along with the passengers, so a lot of it stayed home. But I will explain how women remedy such minor barriers later.) I helped her finish packing her items, many of which ended up in my car to alleviate the lack of space in the SUV.
We headed out to my aunt and uncle’s place. It’s a decent drive, but after filling my gas tank (which cost ~$30!), I was delighted to find that the meter was on “Full” even after arriving. After arriving, we packed most of the items into the trailer, pulled by Kirk (my uncle) in his dodge. I carried the cooler and some other things, along with my own things (which consisted of a backpack and a sleeping back that I did not use — go figure).
Before we got a move on, I picked up a turkey sandwich from Brookshire Brothers. Why? Because Subway was closed. At 10am. Incidentally, the night before, I went to pick up a sandwich from a different Subway (closer to our house) for my brother, who’s bedridden due to a slight hernia, at around 8pm, and they were closed. Both times, the sign read open hours yet they were closed. Hmm, Subway needs to get its act together. I suppose you can’t expect perfection by franchising, but it may be better for their business to exert a larger dosage of control in that aspect. Just a thought.
After consuming my turkey sandwich and providing assistance in packing things (such as bicycles) into trucks, we were ready to head out. The travel configuration simply fell into place on its own. My aunt, uncle, their two twins (daughters), and my grandmother were in my uncle’s truck, pulling the trailer (filled with bookoodles of things). Behind them was me, in my car, with my oldest brother Ryan. Behind us, my father-in-law Glen and his daughter Yvonne, my brother’s wife, rode in Glen’s red truck, which was pulling an open trailer with about 9 – 12 coolers. Last in line was my cousin Vicki and her three children, in her Charger. (In retrospect, I made the observation that I was the only individual not driving a Dodge of some kind.)
Many hours of driving followed, along with three or four stops along the way (which is quite amazing considering the number of females involved in the trip). Upon arrival, at nearly 6pm, we got to our campsites. The campsites are all relatively close, to my disappointment, but I took solace in the fact that I was only staying for a short period of time.
In any case, the rest of the day we spent setting up tents, tarps, canopies, lanterns, tables, coolers, you name it. I was less than enthusiastic at this point. After driving such a long distance, I wanted to be back home. To vent a fraction of my frustration, I proceeded to break off from the group and walk along a trail toward the river.
I was convinced by my relatives not to leave that same night, citing lack of sleep as a good reason to spend the night. Fine, I’d stay. That night was hot, despite sleeping half-naked with a fan blowing on me. (Oh yea, curious how we go all the way out there and still have electricity. I call it “conveniently inconvenient.” We go all this way to live the inconvenient lifestyle that you might live if you had no electricity or modern utilities, and yet we keep those conveniences available to us. Counter-intuitive, I’d say, but I shouldn’t digress so much.)
The following morning, I was unprepared for the heat that would follow. I woke up in the late morning. I continued assisting relatives with assorted work… I still do not know what we accomplished by doing so much, but apparently it needed to be done. Personally, I’d have left well enough alone. Nevertheless, much toil and sweating perpetuated throughout the day.
That afternoon, I drove Yvonne to the nearest shopping center (called “Super S Foods”) for a few items: ice, water, and things of a camping nature. Oh, and of course, you can’t take a trip to a grocery store in the middle of nowhere when someone over 21 is buying without picking up an 18-pack of Miller Lite. Failure to do so would be a shame, to say the least! Anyway, we returned to the campsite with the items and restocked our coolers.
By around 5pm, it was suddenly decided (by whom I know not) that we should go tubing down the river. “Excellent!” was my first thought. We could get in water, circumventing the heat issue, and relax, avoiding the constant work we’d otherwise be coerced into doing.
Yvonne and I were the first to actually use the tubes. Everyone else seemed satisfied with the water at the front of the river, but I had forgotten water shoes (and the rocks in that shallow water are incredibly painful to walk on, not to mention slippery). She and I grabbed our tubes and set out on an adventure. An adventure that began with her attempting to get in the tube, but by some miracle missing it and going under the water head first. I looked at one moment and saw her head, and the next moment I saw her feet in the air. I lol’d about that one for quite some time.
The river was rather slow throughout, excepting the parts where it got shallow and then deep again (and thus sped up for a short time). We spent quite some time on the river, enjoying the escape from the heat and each other’s company. When we got out of the river, though, we had to walk back up the river to the entrance. Without shoes, the next fifteen minutes (and about one mile) of walking on grass covered in stickers, hot concrete, and sharp rocks was an experience that nullified every moment of enjoyment I had on our way down the river. My attitude by the time we arrived back at the campsite was, once again, less than enthusiastic.
When we returned to the river entrance, my mother finally arrived with the rest of the family (my other aunt, uncle, and their three children) from California in our SUV. (Yes, she was arriving a day later because their flight did not arrive until Monday evening, hours after we had left.) Fantastic! More people, more fun, more… work.
Setting up additional tents, building more tarps and canopies, and assembling a… portable organizer (what the heck?)… Well, I would do it all over again, for their sake, but I won’t lie about how little I enjoyed it.
After getting everyone settled in, we ate (I hadn’t eaten all day) and went to bed. I was tired, like most everyone else, and didn’t want to be a part of the innumerable “people issues” that ensued. (We’ll save the details of these issues for another day.)
The following day was rather lame. I walked the trail again, following a longer stretch of land, for probably an hour or so. I declined an offer to go on the river again, since I preferred not to wade through the unsanitary water. (Besides, the day before I managed to take a shower while forgetting to bring a towel. I will not say exactly how I got back to my tent to get my towel, but I will say I got there very quickly. And the showers are not close to the tents.)
Instead, I elected to drive my mother and sister-in-law all the way out to Kerrville, where the nearest Walmart could be found. Remember I told you I’d explain how women conquer minor barriers such as lack of space in their vehicles? You guessed it. Shop before going, don’t fit it, and then shop when you get there!
An hour. I drove for an hour. When we finally found the Walmart, the ladies purchased a basket full of things each. Lots of things. I won’t go into listing them, even if I could remember (and I probably could if I tried).
At the checkout, we asked the cashier, named Anel, for directions to the nearest Starbucks. (See, I thought her named was pronounced “Anelle” but couldn’t figure out why it wasn’t spelled that way… Maybe she likes, ahem, “anel”?) If I’m going to drive that kind of distance, I deserve some kind of reward, right? I was suffering from coffee withdrawals by this time anyway.
We found the Starbucks, which was located just along the river (the Guadalupe this time, a much prettier and larger river in my opinion, not the Llano River that we were in back at the campsite). I drove through the drive-thru and placed my order, a complicated beverage. Additionally, the ladies got a drink as well. To my surprise, Ashley (the barista who took our order) got all of the drinks correct without question. I was rather ecstatic to find a barista who knew how to do her job so well! Kudos to you, Ashley! Your manager should give you a M.U.G. award! (And nice hair, by the way.)
We drove back to the campsite, making a record time of about 40 minutes. I don’t know what the speed limit was, but I couldn’t have been going under it, that’s for sure. Upon arrival, we unpacked, built more tarps and canopies (we pretty much had the area covered in tarps at this point), and of course, grabbed some grub. (I don’t know whose idea it was to eat spaghetti in the heat, or why in the world you’d make spaghetti on a camping trip, but I guess you can’t have beans and chicken every night.)
The next morning, I decided I’d had enough. It was time to go. I’d rather spend my vacation relaxing than working. Frankly, I feel more at ease during a normal work week than way out in the middle of nowhere. I drove to the nearby Super S Foods to pick up ice for everyone before leaving (since I’m so benevolent).
I drove back. Alone. The drive was long and lonely, and after just a couple of minutes I had consumed most of my snacks and drinks along the way. The music got boring, but kept it lively enough. Silence would have probably killed me. I managed to take a wrong turn, but was fortunate enough to get directions from an Indian who owned a Shell that actually knew where 290 E was. I stopped probably 3 times on the way back. In its entirety, the trip cost me about $90 in gas. That may not seem like much for 600 miles round-trip (plus the drive to the “nearest” convenience store three times and one drive to Kerrville), but I normally spend $90 a month in gas, so it seemed like a lot.
Getting home was the best thing ever. I was excited to get back to work on my new Web company/partnership with Ryan and Michael. I have been just enjoying the air conditioning, electricity, and civilization in the familiar area I call home. It’s good to be here. And I’m sorry to everyone (particularly my brother Ryan) that is still stuck way out there in the boonies. I hope you guys are all having fun!