The imperfect vacation

Every Christmas, Jon and I drag out our old DVD collection (assembled some time in the ten years between VHS and streaming) and re-watch all our favorite holiday movies. Favorites like Rudolph make the cut, of course, but one of our favorites is Christmas Vacation. This is the underground classic in which Chevy Chase dreams up the perfect old fashioned family Christmas for his extended family, and then has one thing go wrong after another. In the end, his house is a shambles and all his guests are headed for a hotel, but all is righted again in the end and everyone learns that it's in the imperfection of such an event that we learn the true value of our family and the moments we spend with them.

Not being in retail, I'm not trying to rush Christmas, but the lesson in Christmas Vacation became very real to me last week as we went in pursuit of our annual week of family camping perfection. We struggled first with planning dates this year, finally settling on a week in August, only to have to change our plans at the last minute to accommodate other plans. And as our new date approached, the weather report became uglier and uglier, to the point where we flirted with the idea of cancelling the trip all together. Instead we made a heartbreaking decision and moved our reservations to another Michigan State Park, where the rain was less imminent and the temperatures more promising. Upon arrival, though, they'd lost our reservation, and it didn't take long to learn that Mother Nature breaks her promises easily, and loves nothing more than a good surprise.

All was righted in the end, though. Having no reservation meant we got to pick our site in person, and we ended up with the best site in camp. And though our week was most definitely chilly, it was wet only on occasion, and the rain was never really driving. We enjoyed our games in the tent, were able to make all our meals as planned, even the ones over a campfire, sand can be manipulated even in warmer clothes, and cooler weather is great for hikes. Best of all, we spent the entire week without technology, excepting the up-to-the-minute weather apps on our phones, which I would argue simply helped us work the weather to our advantage.

Our vacation was most definitely not perfect. It was far, far from perfect. At lease Chevy Chase had snow when he wanted snow. But what we had instead of a warm, sunny week on the beach was a week of time together—really, really together. It doesn't get much more together than stuck in a tent hiding from the rain or the cold with nowhere else to go. If you can enjoy those moments, and we did, then you're golden. It's in those moments that we find ourselves and each other; in the games played, the books read, and the discussions had. In the moments between.

Imperfect as it was, our vacation was utterly perfect.

view from our tent

rain before dinner...and after

dinner in the break between rains on day one

evening hike after the rain on day one

a brilliant, if chilly, morning on day two

sand play on the warmest day we had

on the "haunted" beach (Tawas point appears to be losing ground to the lake)

day two dinner

day three, another clear, chilly morning

pancake lunch

a semi-wet evening in town

a serious book discussion on evening four

County Parks family camp night

Pitch a tent; go on a hike with our favorite naturalist; try your hand at fishing; play frisbee; make a "flower" arrangement, and a cute owl thing; earn your Junior Naturalist distinction; gobble down some s'mores; learn about nocturnal(ish) animals in our county; go for a hike in the dark; have the clouds part just in time to watch the stars with a star expert (and see a few Perseid meteors); fall asleep to the sound of a screech owl. Did I mention pancakes in the morning?

What did you do this weekend?

You don't have to go far

Relaxation for me has always come easiest north of a certain latitude. Cross the Zilwaukee Bridge and just feel the the sky get bluer, the grass get greener, the air become sweeter. Anything south of Gaylord has always seemed just a few steps too close the stresses and pulls of our suburban life.

But it turns out that you don't have make the long journey north to enjoy getting away from it all, and when our summer camping friends couldn't take as much time off this year, we found our little slice of heaven a few hours closer to home.

Go west, young family, and find the green trees and warm lakes of Waterloo Recreation center. Swimming and campfires and a little bit of wildlife were all we needed to make the weekend a great success, even with the scattered rain showers that passed through. We got ou s'mores, and our annual steak and corn campfire dinner. We got our time together, and no matter where we are, that makes the camping a great success.

Camping 2014

There are few places I love as much as my home state. It has its ups and downs, and of course there are lots of great places to visit in the country and the wider world, but here we are surrounded by a simple, quiet, understated beauty that cannot be matched. Water, water everywhere; soft, white, sandy beaches; majestic trees. The wildlife is plentiful and mainly friendly (as our new neighbors who came from Alabama like to put it, there really isn't much here that can kill you). Brilliant sun in the summers, sparkling snow, when we're lucky, in the winters. The Pure Michigan campaign, now in its eighth year, really nailed it on the head. I'm sure there are plenty of people itching to get out of dodge, but we truly love our home, and we do our best every year—especially every summer—to take advantage of the beauty around us, and not take it for granted.

Last weekend was our annual camping trip with our good friends who have a daughter exactly two days older than Calvin. We started this tradition when the kiddos were just 3. That first year we packed up all our gear (which thankfully was limited at the time) and drove to a site less than an hour away, figuring that if the trip was a complete bust we could still make it home in time for some decent sleep. But it was a big hit—really big—and in the years since we've upped our game to a five hour drive and four nights away.

We feel like regulars now at our favorite campground. This is drive up camping (not like our backpacking trip last year), and our favorite two sites have a lake view and easy access to the beach, the water pump, and the bathroom without being right in the middle of camp traffic. They also come with a resident Thirteen Lined Ground Squirrel. During the day we watch him scurry around, scoping out our contributions to his layout, at dusk we sit around the campfire waiting for the bats emerge, and in the cool mornings we lean back in our chairs and sip hot coffee while listening to the loons.

In all these years, this was our first trip that was less than ideal weather-wise. We arrived Friday afternoon, a day ahead of our companions, and enjoyed a beautiful evening on the lake after setting up camp. The rain storms held off until about four in the morning, when wind, thunder, and a driving rain woke us in the hours before dawn. Or the wake up call might have been the campers in the tent behind us who were screaming, and giggling, at finding themselves in a not-so-weather-proof tent.

By the time we got up in the morning the rain had passed, leaving cool, damp air and a chilly wind behind. While our neighbors went about stuffing all their possessions into garbage bags in preparation for a trip to the laundromat, we had coffee and cereal and planned a morning hike. Jon discovered a point labeled Mt. Nebo on the trail map, and that's where we headed because...well...because Mt. Nebo. The four mile hike was wonderful. Possibly my favorite part of the whole trip. We found birds, toads, frogs, bugs, and mosquitoes, and the cooler air was perfect for the exercise. Back at camp we fired up the stove for a sausage and pancakes lunch and watched the sun burn off the remaining mist and clouds. By the time our friends arrived the air was warm enough to play a bit on the beach before assembling chicken fajita foil packets to cook around the fire.

Our second night was much quieter, and our second full day more eventful, our friends having arrived. Since it was still too chilly for swimming (a situation that remained in effect the whole trip), we instead went into town for putt putt golf, ice cream, and sweat shirt shopping (the funny thing about kids is that they outgrow their warm clothes every year). Back at camp—sand play on a sunny beach followed by dinner. One of the ways that I can tell we've improved our camping skills over the years is our culinary prowess at the campfire. Dinner number two for us was corn and steak.

On Monday we ate cold breakfasts, packed lunches, and headed over the bridge into the U.P. to see the Soo Locks up close. We were fortunate enough to see an osprey, too, and on the way home we stopped at Castle Rock—our tourist trap for the year. Back at camp it was still too chilly for the beach, so we spent more time with ice cream in town and outfit each of us with new shirts (why should the kids have all the fun!) before heading back. When we got back our tent neighbors were packing up and heading out. The forecast was promising heavy rain and storms in the middle of the night and on into the next morning. Since it was our last night, we decided to the same—the air wasn't getting any warmer, and the idea of having to pack up in a pouring rain was less than desirable. So we started a fire with our remaining wood and packed up while the kids played, then ate one final meal and roasted one final dessert. And would you believe it, the rain started just as we climbed into our cars to head south.

So we spent our final night of the trip in a Holiday Inn Express, and our final morning swimming in their pool instead of the lake, but at least we got some swimming in.

And because we had extra time on our final day—no packing up to do and we were already part way home—Jon and Calvin and I decided to make the most of our trip home and visit a zoo we'd never seen. Scattered storms blanketed most of the state, and we were driving in and out of rain the whole way, but when we got to Potter Park Zoo (in Lansing), the radar said we had about 20 minutes before the next storm hit. It's a small zoo, and we made a dash around all of the outdoor exhibits, then broke out our ponchos to go from building to building, taking in the indoor exhibits. It worked out perfectly, even if we were a little wet, but we'll have to go back sometime because we never did get to see the baby moose, our main reason for stopping.

Now we're home, and with rain still dotting the landscape in unpredictable patterns, all our camping gear is spread out in the garage, waiting for a dry enough day that we can set it up and clean it out well for the year. It's slowly dissipating, but it makes the garage and laundry room smell like camp—wood smoke and pine—making me already eager for next year.

Camping take 2

Camping with our friends has become an annual event that both families have come to treasure. It started three years ago when the kids were five with a short, one night in fact, trip to Irish Hills. It was a trial run, the site selected because it was close to home in case of utter failure, but it went well and has spawned what we hope will be lifetime of outings. Last year and this year we set up camp in Wilderness State Park. Different from our July trip to Pictured Rocks, though, this is the kind of campsite you drive right up to, the kind that has electricity and water, and even camp communal flush toilets and showers. I love Wilderness. From just about every site you can see and hear Lake Michigan, there's swimming, there's hiking, and while it doesn't offer the challenge of the backpacking, it offers the kind of calm, relaxing, introspective vacation that I need at least once a year.

This year we spent three nights at camp. We built fires every night and roasted things like hotdogs, chicken, corn, marshmallows, and popcorn, and we make coffee. We ate granola for breakfast and peanut butter for lunch. We hiked the nearby trail around a pond and went in search of a geocache. We constructed in the sand and splashed in the water. We took day trips to Mackinaw City to try the putt putt course there and get a history lesson at Colonial Fort Michilimackinac. And for entertainment at the campsite, in addition to hangman and looking for the thirteen-lined ground squirrel, we watched the young (oh very young) couple who arrived at the neighboring campsite and unpacked everything from brand new, untested boxes, and proceded on their first camping attempt. It made us feel well-seasoned in our art, and gave us something to giggle about quietly.

hot dogs on our first night

waiting for water to boil for coffee

It's the Loch Michigan monster! Shall we call her Michi?

Colonial Michilimackinac

Colonial Michilimackinac

Mackinac Bridge from Colonial Michilimackinac

Love the red accents...those colonials sure knew how to decorate

A little muncher in the grains...

I shall call this: self portrait in an awesome window with red.

watching the ongoing archeaological dig in the center of the fort

talking to the "trader" in his trader's house

Red Coats (who wouldn't have been called red coats then) demonstrate the unreliability of their rifles.

Posing with the enemy

Fun and games!

Watching the blacksmith at work

Frolicking through the waves

Realizing that the little fish really do nibble your toes

Roasting corn

Geocaching

Putt putt

More frolicking

sand fort

new fangled hangman

marshmallows

more new fangled hangman