Last Friday I saw Tobin, Christa and Russell off on their initial adventure in the '76 Deluxe Campmobile they'd picked up the night before. I had to report to work, took care of business, got home about eight and was feeling restless, I had wanted to drive part of the way north with TC&R, take Friday off and go as far as the camping trip in Santa Cruz.
Was looking forward to a weekend of moping around feeling sorry for myself, wasn't up to setting off on a Friday night through Orange County and Los Angeles traffic (been there, done that, don't wanna go back), but... hey, I get up @ 4 in the morning... hm, so why not get up an hour early and leave then?!
Checked with my wife to make sure that it was a sufficient insane notion to entertain, tried again to recruit her, she declined but offered up our son (she ended up playing three rounds of golf over the weekend instead) as a passenger. He had his favorite babysitter coming over Saturday morning and I was sure he'd rather play with her. "Would you rather play with Stephanie tomorrow or would you rather go camping with me, Flynn?" I asked. "Camping with Dad! Camping with Dad! Camping with Dad!" he jumped around the room repeating this. I was stoked.
Threw about a fortnight's worth of groceries and clothing in the holds, made sure I had the sleeping bags on board this time, got to bed about midnight.
Slept through the alarm for 45 minutes, got rolling at ten to four. I can't believe I'm doing this, I can't believe that I'm taking Flynn with me!
Rolled on. An RX7 stalled dead in the #3 lane on the freeway was a surprise predawn, two VW bugs had spun out/up the embankment about 100 miles apart, both pale green '63-64s. Odd.
Got past LA (thank God) before anyone was up. Crossed into Orange County, LA County, Ventura County... finally along the coast, right by the water, on the way to Santa Barbara and points north. This is kind of the northern edge of LA in my mind.
Flynn woke up and and we chatted a bit, I decided that we'd made good enough time to afford a brief stop in Solvang, a unique Danish enclave north of Santa Barbara. GREAT bakeries and restaurants (and a lot of knockout beautiful local girls). We went to a bakery that had a bunch of local cars parked in front (it was still quite early in the morning). I love the memory of watching Flynn's eyes widen as he saw what was available. Got a not-too-messy pastry for him and a cup of black coffee and a raisin bun for myself. Back on the road.
The miles rolled past. California has a lot of beautiful scenery, and thank God that a third of the way through November it was cool enough to not be toting a spray bottle to use as a life support system while driving.
Kept the speed to about 60-63mph. Oil temp (finally changed back to 20-50 after 40 weight during the hot summer) was fine, behaved nicely. The timing was off, poor low speed acceleration, but highway performance was good.
I am completely satisfied with the 8 ply tires on the front. When the 5 ply tires on the rear are ready to retire, I'm going to go for 8 ply there also. Really a smooth ride, and you realize the Campmobile has good handling once you're not fighting to compensate for insufficient tire walls. I do not feel tired after a long day of hard driving in the Campmobile, and I believe it's the tires in large part.
Made a quick secondary stop near San Luis Obispo for a comic book or toy, found a little keychain sized Etch A Sketch, PERFECT!!
Flynn took a nap and woke up again a bit cranky, uttering the words I'd most feared hearing: "I want to go home. I don't want to go camping. I want my Mom."
I explained that Mom was hundreds of miles away and that we were going camping that night. I saw golden arches ahead and I made a good parental move: time for a stretch and a Happy Meal(tm).
A McDonald's Happy Meal(tm) is one of the most powerful tools to ensure domestic tranquility on a long car trip available without a prescription.
After that stop, we were within an hour or so of our destination, Big Basin in Santa Cruz. Got off the 101, took the 183 over to the 1, right on the coast.
Tall trees, the ocean right there. What a place. I'd like to find work up in that area, Capitola/ Santa Cruz. Very nice.
Meandered up the 9 to the 236, winding through dense very tall trees. Very narrow road. There was a resurfacing project, we were delayed maybe 40 minutes. I'd driven over freshly laid asphalt in Baja, and I didn't mind spending the time waiting once I saw what was up. It took several hours with a shop rag and a can of WD40 to remove the fine strings of hot asphalt that the tires had thrown up onto the paint.
Became concerned that I'd gone too far and missed the turnoff. Continued along, thinking that it must be clearly signed. Was happy to find the 236 and turn towards the campground. We were almost there.
Threaded our way to the ranger station, found a note from Swiss Al, squeezed the information I needed out of the rangerette, drove maybe 3/4 of a mile to sites #113, 114, 115, something like that. Yep, there's Joe and Patti's '89 Synchro. Found 'em.
I felt like the creature from the black lagoon walking up onto the beach from the sea, such was the degree of jaw dropping. You drove that far?! For one night?
Why not? It was better than staying at home moping around, wishing I had gone! Maybe it's a Jim Ellis road trip virus I contracted via e-mail...
Said hello, introduced Flynn to Mackie, Patti and Joe's son. They played together. I was happy to see Mackie there, I thought that he and Flynn would get along, have another little person to relate to.
Cooked a couple of steaks that I'd thrown into the Campmobile ice box, shared one with Flynn. Martha shared a tasty Thai flavored dish she'd made up. There was more food, but I was full. Flynn enjoyed a couple of cookies that were about as big as his spread hand.
Enjoyed the fire and company for a couple/few hours, Met David Kautz and his wife (name?), who had zoomed up in a sharp little European convertible. Flynn was getting cranky, I didn't realize how tired he was, until David explained it. Sure enough, he went right to sleep, and I was asleep in a few minutes, also. Slept downstairs with the top closed to conserve heat. What's happening with that Carver P4 (Propex) heater order, anyway?! : ' )
Woke up the next morning, started some water for coffee, played with some styrofoam cutout dinosaurs and the toy ambulance from Saturday's Happy Meal(tm), also with the little Etch A Sketch. This was really great fun, that little stretch of time. We were in our clubhouse, out on the loose, on our own, having a good time camping.
Made our way to the fire, I added wood and charcoal and fed twigs and leaves to get a blaze going. Made some toast, as awkwardly as possible. Was not nearly as well prepared for this trip as usual. Made do. Quite nicely!
The sun rose, barely filtering through the truely towering redwoods all around us, lifting the fog. What a place. It was cold enough to make you value the warmth from the fire. Swiss Al and Joe woke up and came out, then Sarah poked her head out of Martha's Passat wagon -- guess it got a bit too cold in her tent! Bradley emerged, dressed in thermal sweatpants, shorts, and a Baja overshirt. Form follows function.
Visited for a bit, it came time to set off again. Said goodbye, started the Campmobile. Whoa. Little cold last night for you, girl? The oil sounded thick, and I'd been parked on a slight forward angle (Joe had directed me to drive up on small stacked 2x4 ramps, which was great, worked well). Got it started, backed up, let it warm up a bit until the oil light went out (was on for too long to leave me comfortable). Headed out.
Wound down the hill, into the sun, through the dense trees. Spectacular sights. I slowed and stopped when a young deer was trotting alongside the road ahead of us. He cut back into the trees. Flynn and I were equally impressed.
We were heading towards the 9 when a Type 34 cruised past and WAVED! I was so surprised that I didn't wave back! How cool! I don't expect folks in Ghias to do that. Saw a fair number of bay windows around the Santa Cruz area. Saw at least a dozen Vanagon Westys on the way home.
On the trip up I had Flynn's baby seat in the back, he slept most of the trip and amused himself otherwise. We shouted back and forth. I didn't make the bed back into the rear seat on the way home, and moved his baby seat to the passenger seat. I don't often do this, but it's a lot of fun to have him right there to chat with as we go.
Headed to Salinas and tanked up, checked the oil. NO oil!?!? Whoa. Added a quart and a half. Expected to blow a seal, couldn't believe I was that low.
Drove south. Shared graham crackers and apple juice with Flynn. Discovered that if he stretched his legs, he could barely touch the opened glove compartment door and slam it shut. This was great fun. I'd say "Left foot only!" and hold his right sweatpant leg down, back and forth. Figured it was good for him to stretch, anyway.
Listened to the Lion King soundtrack a few dozen times more than I'd like to have, but Flynn asked for it and I was only too happy to oblige.
My timing was still off, highway speeds were good and mileage was quite good, I was topping off the tank with 4 or 6 gallons instead of 10 or more (gauges? we don't need no steeeenking fuel gauges).
Drove home at speeds up to 67mph, tried to average about 65. The oil temp stayed below 220, the dipstick wasn't hot when I checked it at fueling stops. This was far faster than I've ever driven the Campmobile before, for a much longer time.
Along the way we'd stopped at a Unocal 76 station (my preferred brand, only gas card I carry) and I was walking, carrying Flynn, who'd just woken up from a nap, across the parking lot and back. A pretty girl rode a horse out of the rural land in back of the station across the parking lot to the road, said hello to us and smiled. Flynn thought this was great. It *was* great!
Only one severe jerk to report, a red Mercedes station wagon (an oxymoron there, no?) with Idaho plates. Driving too fast, zooming up in the rear view, tapped my brakes, he was busy looking where he could jam his 80mph butt into the fast lane and got too close. I could see his trophy bride having a word with him. I'd like to have taken a crowbar to the side of his head.
As we got near and through Santa Barbara, traffic slowed. Oh God. Not a 200 mile traffic jam, please.
LA wasn't as bad as usual, though the 101 through North Hollywood and downtown was jammed, there was some kind of event @ Dodger Stadium (anybody remember the Danny Kaye record "Dodger Stadjum"?).
Navigated through LA and Orange Counties, got close to home, stopped at a McDonald's near our house for a good stretch and another Happy Meal(tm) at a McDonald's with one of those big playgrounds. He was overtired and kind of fussy, but it was good to sit and eat, not quite home and through with our camping trip yet. He finished his last french fry, I loaded him back in the Campmobile again, fired it up, and drove a few more miles home.
Pulled in to the garage, idled for a bit to let the heads cool, shut it off, disembarked, fished Flynn out of his car seat and stood holding him for a moment. The Campmobile had taken us there and back again, a good solid road trip, maybe 10 hours each way including brief stops.
For some reason I thought of the Campmobile as being somewhat frail compared to my old '69 bug, which I'd drive anywhere at any time. After several years with the Campmobile, I'm coming to feel that it's every bit as bulletproof as the bug was, not as fast, but obviously a lot more comfortable and, especially by now, far more well equipped. Who's afraid of the big bad AFC fuel injection system?
Flynn ran inside and woke up Diane, who was napping on the couch (worn out from the three rounds of golf that weekend) and told her all about the trip. He was as good as gold on the long car ride, he did far better than I'd expected he would do. He was alert and cheerful and observant and conversational.
He's only three, I realize he won't remember this trip or the other things we do together, but I feel that it must be providing some kind of foundation for his later years, I'd like to think so, anyway.
Anyway. A spur of the moment trip, a good long run. Hadn't done anything like that in a while. It was good to see everybody, it was good to be out and moving again for a while. An impromptu adventure. Why not?
