Need a Vacation After a Dad Vacation; That's How We Roll... or Drive...

Let's get one thing cleared up; I am a living embodiment of Clark Griswold when it comes to vacations.  I am a horrible optimist and have this Normal Rockwell image of what each and every vacation can be.  And come heck or high water, we are going to have a fun time - that is an order.

Years ago, I sat through one of those vacation club sales pitches where they promise you a trip to Vegas (which you invariably never take) if you can make it through the entire presentation without falling into a comatose state. My guy gave the sales pitch of a lifetime (or more of an end of life time, as the story went).  He told me about his friend who was a workaholic and skipped vacations year after year. Well according to my sales guy (which in itself make its veracity questionable) this guy did take a "The Big Vacation," it was just of the permanent type to the afterlife.  After wiping a solitary -and likely crocodilian-  tear from his eye, he asked me if I was going to put off spending time with my family for another year.  Then using his friend's [alleged] passing to the utmost of its pecuniary value, he sold me a timeshare (I wonder if his friend's heirs get a cut of the commission).

Since I have owned a timeshare for the past 14 years, I do my best to stay true to the memory of the likely fictitious deceased friend and take a vacation every year.  This year, since I still continue to invest in the lucrative Grantham, New Hampshire real estate market (I hope you can taste the sarcasm there), I had to look for a financially scaled back vacation option. That meant road trip (with load-binders in hand in case we need to strap a deceased grandma -or salesman's friend - to the roof of the car).

Now this and last years I have taken the 5 kids on vacation solo (the topic of a later blog post), so being out numbed 5-to-1 I figured I should take the kids to a nearby place that loves big families and children... How about San Francisco, 12 hours away!?!  Clark Griswold couldn't be prouder.

So kids in the car and Nevada between us, we hit the road (please see road trip tips here).  The first afternoon of the vacation, we drove to Reno. I have no pictures of Reno for you, as it is after all... Reno.  Though, admittedly Reno did unveil one interesting discovery, my five-year-old jumped into the car nine hours ago without any shoes.  Nice.  So I got to embrace the midnight Walmart crowd in Reno, you know  the standard homeless people, transvestites, and meth addicts that you find at any Walmart at midnight.

Surviving Reno with no recollectable memories we hit the road for San Fran.  First stop Chinatown!

Like Walmart, everything in Chinatown is from China - big surprise (and like the topic of my next post).  Plenty of yard sale fodder that I don't need, but also lots of great food that I do need.  Since 2000, I have always stopped at the House of Nanking when in town.  It is the best Chinese food that a 5 year old will never eat.

After some fine food we jumped a trolley ride.  The kids were a bit unsettled when I told them that one of there ancestors was a cable car driver and intentionally crashed the car during a strike, killing several riders (on their mother's side of course).  But they loved hanging out of a moving vehicles and giving passing by cars high-fives.  The ride was not without intrigue, as the driver got into a spat with a mentally disturbed ABC (American Born Chinese) who randomly ambushed the trolley to ask if our driver wanted a girlfriend.  Kids were a bit alarmed, but I am sure this was common place in S.F. and it was free entertainment... vacation on a budget.

Next we hit Fisherman's Wharf, watched sea lions fight over mating rights (I can't say she was worth the fuss, but she wasn't my type - being an aquatic mammal and all), rode the carousel, then drove over the Golden Gate bridge towards our timeshare.

So Day 1 in the bag.  Not bad.  My salesman's dead friend would be proud.

Next day was a 'take it easy' day, which really has zero meaning when you have Clark Griswold as a father.  I got the kids up relatively late, you know 7:30 - it is vacation after all - had breakfast and hit a Redwood forest not too far away.  After a nice hike, the sky dumped on us and of course the 5-year-old didn't bring a coat, it was at least 'in state,' but not 'in car.'  He did have his trusty blankie, which he promptly stashed up his shirt during the deluge.  Can't be cuddling a wet blankie can we?

Now that we are all soaked, do we head home?  Course not!  "Let's go to a cold windy beach!" What goes better with water than more water?

Everyone being sufficient chilled to feel like we fully experienced the great outdoors, we went back to the timeshare... to swim of course.  More water, but warm this time!  We had a rousing family game of sharks and minnows where dad got to relive those swim team glory days.  The kids got a lesson in the face kick, crotch kick, and swim suit pull down techniques of escaping the shark.  Dad is one bad-A minnow.

Day 3 found us back in the San Francisco on the way to Angel's Camp.  Dad went all Japanese-tourist and did photo-shoot time.  Golden Gate Bridge (Splash photo) - check.  Palace of Fine Arts (which Dad kept calling the "P-Fart") - check. Mel's Diner - check.

Not enough?  How about the zoo? (we have a reciprocal membership)  By the way,  great zoo!

Yes boys, she is part tarantula. So don't be thinking you can date my daughter - and because she is only 12.

Once the zoo closed, why wait in Bay Area traffic?  How about the beach again (with some great sunset light)?

We finally hit the road after one more trip down the windiest road in the world and a potty break in Chinatown at one of the few public bathrooms in town, not Chinatown itself, though the smell on some streets might suggest otherwise (there is a nice park there with clean public bathrooms).

Adding three hours onto a long day, we landed in Angel's Camp California, all set for another mellow day... Yosemite!  And with all things on this trip, it was at least 2 hours away.

Yosemite is nature at its best and California traffic management at its worst.  But as long as you are looking up and not at the traffic, it is breath taking.  Seeing what we could see with a five-year-old in tow, we made it back to the timeshare for more... (you guessed it) swimming.

Last day of vacation.  Stay put?  Yes, but stay put in Tahoe! (3 hours away)

This is where Clark Griswold's luck caught up with me.  After a long mountain drive with many a car sick kid, we got to the timeshare only to find out some dummy (me) had booked us for Friday night, just in the wrong month.  Nuts!  So it was time to cash in some frequent travel points and find a place with a nice pool - the Marriott.  Perfect! Unfortunately, it only permitted 4 people in the room.  So in true Griswo... I mean Hansen fashion, we stuffed all of the clothes we needed in two bags and I checked in with three kids while the other two sauntered in a few minutes later.  Very James Bond of me.

The nice pool and nice room made for a nice recovery of an almost not nice day and a nice final day of the vacation.  Nice!

So all in all, I think that I did honor to the spirit of my salesman's friend.  We drove much, slept little, and experience a cornucopia of California in a 6 day period.  But even for Clark Griswold's protege, it was a lot of work.  Isn't the work of getting out the door, making the plan, herding the kids, braving the crowd, driving in car what keeps us sitting inside killing season after season of TV shows on Netflix?  Don't worry, the TV shows will still be there when you are old and tethered to a colostomy bag.  How much fun did we have getting out and seeing the sights, smelling the smells, tasting the food, breathing the air, and living the life that was right there for the taking.  So thank you dearly departed friend of the long ago salesman, whether you ever existed or not is irrelevant, we honor your message by getting out the door, taking the chance, and being part of the world.