From Tranquility Back to Turmoil

[written after the fact]

We slept very restfully last night...in a tent (I know!). The temperature was pleasant when we awoke and the kids immediately set out to gather berries. Before long we heard, "eww/cool a banana slug!"

A ranger came by and let us know that a nature walk would be starting soon. With the car packed up and ready to go, we decided to give it a try. We were lucky to have a very patient and knowledgeable (California State Park) ranger. She took time to explain the flora and the fauna and to answer questions anyone had. There were a number of young ones in our group (apart from our own), so there were lots of questions - and we decided to back out of the nature walk a bit early (45 minutes and 100 yards in).

We got back on 101 and yo-yo'd back and forth between Redwood Forest and more beaches. When we came to a the fork in the road, we decided to bid 101 farewell and take the coast-hugging Highway 1. We cursed ourselves with a case of 'famous last words' when we commented on the fact that neither of the kids had suffered any car sickness despite traveling well over 4000 miles. Literally seconds later, the boy began to lament that he was feeling a bit "pukish". I confiscated my iPhone (which he'd been playing for half an hour) and encouraged him to look to the horizon. It helped, but not much. The moaning subsided as he fell asleep.

Even though Highway 1 had some spectacular views of the ocean, we realized that if we stayed on it we'd arrive at our hotel in San Francisco close to midnight. We made our way through the 10 mph hairpin turns back to 101 amidst much groaning from the back seat. Fortunately, the boy slept most of the way to San Francisco. He was asleep as we rode across the fog-covered Golden Gate Bridge. However, he awoke when we were roughly a mile or so from our hotel - and he immediately let us know that vomiting was imminent.

[the faint of heart and weak of stomach should stop reading now and tune back in around Friday, June 26]

I immediately encouraged him that if there was no turning back, that he should utilize the hat (yes, my favorite hat) as a receptacle. We didn't have to wait long. Given that our last meal was many hours prior, I was impressed by the sheer volume of...smelly, recycled food. As you can well imagine, the detours, twists, and turns of the final mile to our hotel was...distinct. I should mention that the boy is a much more graceful puker than I. I'm prone to moan and groan and carry on, but the boy just hurls into a hat and goes on about his business.

Did I mention the smell? The volume of vomit, coupled with the length of the drive and the hat being made of cloth, necessitated that the missus contribute her hat to the cause as well.

I'm typically a La Quinta devotee, but I thought I'd splurge on a really nice hotel for our San Fran stay: The Westin. Since it's located in the middle of downtown, the only parking option was valet. You've stayed with me this long, let's go a little further...imagine this scene in your mind. A beleaguered family - 4500+ miles into a road trip that has included camping (the very night before) - traveling in a packed, messy car that has a very unpleasant aroma emanating from a hat-full o'sickness, pulling into up to the valet stand of a four-star hotel in the heart of San Francisco. We hurriedly scavenged a plastic bag we'd been saving for trash and slipped 'the hats' (of course I'm going to keep my hat!) into the bag. I then handed the valet the key and began to pile our luggage onto the luggage cart (dirty laundry and all). If you ever want to see a puzzled look on a bellhop's face, have them open the trunk and find it over-stuffed with used camping supplies.

The boy waited patiently on the curb, holding his 'bag', while we loaded the cart. He dutifully carried it as we checked in to the hotel, and onto the elevator as we headed to the 26th floor. I still feel bad for the guy that just made it into our elevator as the doors were closing (I'm guessing he wishes now he'd waited for the next one). Once we got to the room I set about rinsing out the hats in the bathtub (after dumping all I could down the toilet). I can tell you that fatherhood has presented me with many difficult and unpleasant duties over the years. We'll just categorize this task as 'memorable'.

Regrettably, the evening took a turn for the worse. Rather than being a one-off-car-sick puking episode, the boy emptied the tank of all he had left (on the very expensive bedding I should mention...the girl wasn't pleased) and then dry-heaved for hours more. The girl managed to get some sleep, but not mom and I. At some point during the night I told the missus, "I'm not feeling so good either."

Though you're undoubtedly a glutton for punishment - since you haven't managed to look away from this train wreck yet - but I'll spare you the gory details of my bout with the porcelain. Suffice to say it was no less intense than the boys, but with much less nobility.

It was a rough night. As I've said many times before, thanks for reading.

P.S. I really appreciate the comments you leave. It lets me know you're reading and enjoying this blog. Thanks again.