Sometimes starting is the hardest part. After almost a year of planning, the purchase, renovation, and general craziness involved with getting our Vanagon running right (and reliably) we were ready to head out toward adventure. Our jobs had graciously (or begrudgingly) agreed that we could take a month or so off, and we were grabbing the reins and steering for the western horizon.
We packed for nearly all of the week before, constantly adjusting what we though was needed. Looking at the size of the van and reconfiguring our needs. The memory foam topper that made the lower bed barely acceptable was trimmed to fit. The exhaust leak was (temporarily) fixed. The final adjustments were made to the tools, spares, and general supplies and we felt almost ready.
Somehow we managed to get both kids stuff packed (or MOMVENTURE did, she deserves the Cat Herding Award of Excellence) and both kids in the van and said our goodbyes to Samwise our cat by 9:30 in the morning. If you don’t have kids let me express to you the sort of monumental accomplishment this is; this is the non-encumbered person’s equivalent of the 5:10 departure for a trip after a 5:00 work day ends, in other words, a miracle.
So we were off, but first a celebratory donut! There are a few artisanal donut makers (that’s a thing, really) in Harrisonburg, but Strites is one of the best, and near the highway entrance.
We’d made a test trip to the Eastern Shore in the van earlier in the summer. It ran well
with few real problems. The only thing that cropped up was the dreaded clicking at the rear axle. A liberal application of grease and tightening of bolts made this disappear about a week prior to our trip (more on that later… oooh foreshadowing).
So off we went, rolling down 81, AC pushing out lukewarm air, tunes rolling out of the tinny speakers,
and somewhat terrified grimaces on the faces of these 40+ year olds. Did we pack the right stuff? Was the van ready and safe for a cross-
country trip? Would the kids actually enjoy it? Would we?
Steep hills in West Virginia and warm temperatures served to offer a test to our new-ish engine. She held fine and pushed us along to the New River Gorge. Not to put too fine a point on it, but New River Gorge is beautiful. Lots of great trails for hikers of all sizes, and lots of amazing vistas. It was here that we first experienced the downside of long bouts of sitting with a device, the dreaded “I don’t wanna” monsters. Kids like the simplicity of routine, they also need to have reasonable limits to screen time. When you’re on a long trip these things tend to go out the window as fatigue begins to erode everyone’s patience and parenting ability. The main symptom of too much screentime is a pervasive laziness that sets in and a surprising ability to say “no” to even the most reasonable request.
Despite the complaints we had a good little hike in the park, scarfed down a delicious lunch, and enjoyed the beauty of a few vistas before heading back to the van. The original plan had called for camping in the area, but it was early, and hot, and we were anxious to see more cool things so off we went.
A word about the summer of 2016 and the state of West Virginia. Rain.
It’s been a wet summer, and as it turned out our afternoon was met with still more torrential downpours. The state park we intended to stay at was on a lake, a lake that flooded – or so I would assume given the fact that every single route into this state park (Beach Fork State Park) was washed out and resulted in 2 good hours of sitting in traffic and watching a frightening amount of water wash away parts of roads and large trees.
So, the best laid plans led us to our first hotel diversion. Not the best start – but it felt like the best choice we could make in the circumstances. Day 1 ends in flooding.
Distance: 311
Feeling bummed about the accommodations, but generally positive.
Obligatory muddy van shot.