Another Crazy Carlson Road Trip

Friday, March 9th (4:30 pm):
We threw the four kids in the car and drove. We drove and drove. There were rules. No stopping (almost). We synchronized our bladders. Food gets eaten in the car while travelling. Did I mention no stopping? No changing seats. Do your reading. Do more reading. Do your french reading. Play car bingo. Okay, maybe a digital device but for a short time only. First day, only one pit stop. Get gas and do everything all at once. We cross into the Oregon State line. My husband says, "kiss." I lean over and kiss him. This is our tradition. Every new state, new province, new country--we cross the line and kiss. Grateful for another day, another breath, another chance to live, see, explore and be with each other. The 8 year old yells, "gross!" Then he qualifies it, "Only if you kiss him on the lips, it's gross!" "How do you know?" I reply. "Maybe your dad likes it on the lips." The 8 year old is unconvinced. We make it to Albany, Oregon. Unfortunately, the kids wake when we got to the motel and everyone has to eat cereal before bed. Lights out near midnight.
By Mom.

Long And Boring...

Friday, March 9th.

Long. Boring. Very long. Very boring. We left the house at 4:30. I read. Complained. Begged. And so did my siblings. We ate food in the car. The solution: complaining and begging some more. We found a motel at 11. Too late. Way too late. Tired too. Way too tired. This day has certainly been eventful and exciting.

Anticipating tomorrow with much excitement.

Ethan

More driving

Saturday, March 10th:

More driving. Did I mention this was a road trip? Reading. Then their dad makes them watch a movie: The Sound of Music. Groans in the car. No one wants to watch it. Husband chose it because it is a classic AND (he leans over and whispers to me) "it is three hours long." I begin to sing "Doh, a deer, a female deer..." There is loud wailing and nashing of teeth in the back of the car. My vocal talents are under appreciated. They turn the movie on. The car is blessedly quiet. The thirteen hours are long. We make it to a motel outside Bakersfield. They have warning signs about valuables and a security guard roving the premises. I mutter something unappreciative to my husband. We wonder if the three mountain bikes on the back of the van will be there in the morning. He promises the next one will be nicer. I am grateful not to be in a tent.
By Mom.

Can It Possibly Be...

Saturday, March 10th.
How can it possibly be that 13 hours in the car is more exciting than 6 hours in the car? Yes, unbelievably, I found it more exciting. No, no sarcasm there. Possibly that we went to Subway? Or that there was a security guard at the motel today? Whatever, for some reason, I wasn't as bored.
Ethan

Absolutely Nothing

Sunday, March 11th:

Making it to Sedona at dusk

We can make it through one more day of driving. I am sure of it. The highway heads east and we have gorgeous sun, wide open sky and velvet hills. The cactus appear. I am in love with the desert, the sun, and the opportunity to sit in the passenger side of the car and do absolutely nothing. I do not even read. Nothing. Oh, I play car bingo with the kids, check my blackberry occasionally, pass food back to the kids, and stare vacantly out the window. This is bliss. My husband has hidden a bag of Miss Vickie's chips under his seat. He had a bag yesterday as well. He brought them for me. I think he loves me. Some women get diamonds. I get Miss Vickie's chips. I am grateful not to be sleeping in a tent. At 3 pm we break open the bag of Miss Vickie's. I pass them out in plastic cups to the kids. We stop for gas and to empty the synchronized bladders. He drives crazy so we can get close to Sedona before we lose the light. We want to see the rocks in the red glow. We make it. He stops the car repeatedly. I jump out to take pictures with my camera and blackberry. The hills are alive.
By Mom.

The Promise

Sunday, March 11th.

We left our guarded motel at 9:40 am. Today, we would reach our first destination. Sedona. It was pretty boring in the car. Nothing much to do other than look out the windows. That's very exciting. We crossed into Arizona and made a stop at a Pilot Travel Center. We were in a canyon. We dropped from 7000 feet to 4500 feet. I was on an iPad. My mom yelled at me. "Put the window down" and "Quick, take pictures with the iPad." I roll down the window. I take some pictures. About fifty in half a minute. The pictures are almost identical. Here's one:

Then I went back to what I was doing. Shortly after, we arrive at Sedona. Dad gets directions to our hotel and where there's good food. Chinese food. We drove 2,688 km to get Chinese food. I thought we were supposed to experience Arizona culture. Not Chinese.

Ethan

Spring Break Training

I didn't expect to be going to Boot Camp. No one prepared me for this. Spring break training in Arizona. In the morning we hiked 4 miles around Bell Rock and Courthouse Butte. Three of the boys had bikes and the rest of us hiked. That worked fine until we got to the steep upgrade with a sign that said "No Bikes--$300.00 Fine." The 13 year old, the 5 year old and I continued the hike up, up and around Bell Rock. Did I mention up? My husband biked back the easy downhill with the other boys (he must have planned that). My 5 year old is pretty tough but 4 miles uphill in the heat is a lot. I had to give him a ride. Just 40 pounds on my back. No weight training needed today. My husband meets me at the van with water. "I thought you were going to be mad at me." I say nothing. I get in the van just for the sheer pleasure of sitting down.

After lunch, we headed out on what was supposed to be a scenic drive so we could all have a break. Sixteen year old had other idea. Let's ride the bikes on the Chuck Wagon Trail to The Devil's Bridge (a magnificent natural bridge) in the middle of nowhere. It was the nowhere part that caught me off guard. There I was mountain biking on a single track that wound up, over, down, in between. Rocks? Cactus? Hairpin turns? More rocks? Steep, sandy dry gulch? Yes, me and the 8 year old pushed our bikes most of the way. Isn't that what mountain biking is all about? Crusted in red sand, bruised, sun-burned and raked by sharp branches, we made it back before dusk. "Are you okay?" asks beloved husband when we finally make it to the van. In sickness and in health. Gotta love this family.

By mom.

Flamingo

Monday, March 12th.
Today we started off by walking/biking to Oak Creek. My parents and my youngest sibling were walking. The rest of us were biking. About a quarter way down, I traded with Mom. She biked. Aka, walked the bike. We had to go uphill instead of riding the bikes. The bikes were being carried. Once we arrived at a sign that clearly stated they didn't want bikes on the trail, we had a problem. We decided that the weaklings, my Dad, older brother and the second youngest brother would go the easy way back on the bikes. My youngest brother, Mom and me carried on. The terrain was quite steep in some places and we had to help Ellis.

When my Mom wanted to take photos of us Ellis would become a flamingo. We had to ration out what was left of the water. When Ellis was tired he would ride his "pony." Eventually, after walking 5 miles we arrived at the car. We returned to the hotel then went for a drive. The drive was supposed to be "scenic." Depends on your point of view. No pun intended. On our way to an undisclosed restaurant a battle erupted in the car. Where should we eat? I was all for a Mexican restaurant a teacher-friend of Mom's recommended. Elliott wanted a Ribs restaurant that the same friend had also recommended. The younger ones wanted a very cultural restaurant: The Golden Arches. We decided against the Ribs. So, Elliott wanted Subway. Another cultural restaurant. We decided to go Mexican. In the US. The food was delicious.

Ethan

Spring Break Training Continues

March 13th, 2012
Ha! And I thought yesterday was Spring Break training. That was simply the warm-up. Since I was still able to walk after getting out of bed in the morning, my 16 year old and I went mountain biking. All was good until I actually put my rear end on the bike seat. Bike seats were not designed to match the female anatomy. Oh, tender. As this is a family blog, I will forego an anatomical description of the raw (quite literally) details. I was in for the long ride. My son headed off with me chasing behind. This time, I was pretty determined to actually ride more than walk the bike. We went up, down, up, down, around and more up. "Mom, you need to pedal more." "Mom, you need to lean back behind the seat on the downhills." "Mom, stand up on the pedals." My quads screamed. So did my lungs. I was sure he was trying to kill me. I began thinking some not nice things about my son. No, these were not nurturing, motherly thoughts. And then we turned around and came back. He flew ahead of me. We whipped down Llama Trail, joined onto Bell Rock trail, hung left onto a side trail and flew down the curves, bumping over the rocks, flying along the slick rock. I let out a few wild yells. "Yee-haw!" Even the hikers moved out of our way. One hour and 45 minutes later, we arrived back at the motel. It was so-much-screaming-fun, I may never come back to work. I love my 16 year old.

Climbing up the steep Cathedral Rock

But that was just the morning. We checked out of the motel and headed over to Cathedral Rock for the short, but steep, "hand-over-hand" climb up to the top of the butte. Did you read "hand-over-hand?" Yes, this was a strenuous rock climbing adventure. The 8 year old shot up the face of the rock with the 13 year old chasing. "Stick with him," I yelled. "Make sure he doesn't jump off the ledge at the top." My husband and I flanked the five year old and up we went. The 16 year old bounced back and forth between our groups. Up, up and up. More up. Slick Rock. Smooth. Steep. Only a crack to go up in places. Steep, red, glowing rock. And at the top, a sheer ledge overlooking the valley on the other side. Of course, the boys all took turns walking out to the tip of the ledge and hanging off it. See picture. See mom freak out.

Coming down was a slippery challenge but it was a fabulous thrill of a hike.

We are in love with Sedona.

Cathedral Rock

Tuesday, March 13th.

Early in the morning, my mom and older brother ditched the rest of us and went biking. We had to pack the car. Then we left the hotel. Next, we went to climb a mountain. We hiked climbed crawled up Cathedral Rock. Except me, I ran up and jumped down. We went up about 1500 meters. Then we took some photos that resulted in us getting into places which caused Mom to wring hands, bite fingernails and generally be very anxious and nervous. We got really high up but then Mom wanted to go back. On the way down I just jumped down cliffs. Pretty fun. And pretty worrisome for Mom, which made it all the more worthwhile. And then we left Sedona. I'd love to go back there.

Ethan

Ahhh....

March 14th, 2012
Phoenix. Sun. Heat. Real heat. 28 degrees. The pool calls my name. It hear it clearly. Bootcamp waits. I don bathing suit. "Where did you get that mom?" queries son with strange look on face. He doesn't like it. I'm going sunbathing and I get a critic in the house. I head to pool, without critic. Lounge chair. Towel. Husband keeps boys in motel room to do "homework." That would be their English and French reading. I get peace and a chance to read the guidebooks. I plan the afternoon's activity. I turn over to tan other side. Lovely. I begin to fantasize about pool boy showing up with lunch. A quesadilla, guacamole, sour cream, and salsa served with a fruit drink topped with paper umbrella. Perfect. I am abruptly awakened from reverie by cold water bottle and bag of nuts tossed on my tanning body. That would be the 16 year old. He has no class. Husband delivers the youngest. Five year old says, "Mom, I like your top." I am going to keep that child. The rest of the kids join us. I should have brought a whistle. I am now official lifeguard and referee. No more reading. No more peace. The kids have a blast. I become pool girl. I make lunch and deliver poolside. The boys have inhaled it before I have a chance to sit down. This is the real life we live.

We drag boys from pool and head out to go hiking. They don't want to go hiking. It is 28 degrees. They want to stay in the air-conditioned motel room and play on computers or go horseback riding. Fat chance. Mother rules. We head to South Mountain Preserve, the largest municipal park in the world, to climb down The National Trail to Hidden Valley. We head out on the trail at 4 pm. We climb down to Fat Man's Pass.

We must pass through a crevice to get to the Hidden Valley. The boys squeeze through.

My husband says, "I'm too big. My chest is too big." He takes off the pack to slide through. I'm next. With a deadpan face, I announce, "No, my chest is too big." The 13 year grins wide and his eyes laugh. "I'm too buxom," I add. The 16 year looks embarrassed but he too is smirking. What a mother! The boys find the natural rock slides. They are slick, smooth and shiny. We slide them. We make it to The Tunnel. It's gorgeous. The Tunnel, Fat Man's Pass and the natural slides are why we came. We have to hustle back. The park closes at 7 pm and we need to drive out from the Trailhead. It is uphill. The light is perfect, the desert begins to glow. The camera battery dies. My blackberry is full. Good thing 16 year old has iPod. It is a race back to the car. I come in last but I have logged 2.5 hours of strenuous exercise. I think I win.

By Mom.

South Mountain Park

Wednesday, March 14th.
First day in Phoenix. For breakfast we went to the deluxe continental breakfast. I made my own waffles and had orange juice. Then, my Mom, and my other siblings went to the pool. I stayed and did some homework I had assigned, that is till my younger sibling begged me to come down. I came down and played Tag with them and then I had swimming races with my Dad. I won. Then, we had lunch by the pool, after we went in the car to South Mountain Park, the largest municipal park in the world. We took a hike to Hidden Valley in the extremely hot sun. We went to find a tunnel and a rock slide. We found them after thinking we found them twice (other hikers helped us). Before we found the real one, we got separated. Dad yells "Elijah!" I yell "Elijah!" Ellis yells "Elijah!" No answer. Dad yells "Elliott!" Ellis cuts me off, "Elliott!" I reply "Elliott!" No answer. Dad shouts "Elisa!" Ellis yells, "Mommy!!" with a grin on his face. Then I yell, "Mom!" Then they answer and we have a shouting match. We were half a mile apart. On the way back, we had a race to the car. Then we went home and had hamburgers for dinner. Did I mention I was trying to convince my parents to go to the buffet nearby for dinner and go horseback riding at night?

Ethan