Jeff Likes to Tell Stories

My life long dream of tasting garlic ice cream would finally be realized. After a few days in the clean mountain air of Yosemite it was time for a change. So the family trekked across California's central San Joaquin Valley to Gilroy with its pungent garlic-infused atmosphere. Truly. As we wound our way down the slopes of the Diablo mountain range just east of the city we rolled down the windows to smell the bulb that would be the center of attention that third week in July. We were on our way to the annual Gilroy Garlic Festival. To be...

The highlight of our my Yosemite visit has already been recounted. What more can I say? Well, my wife tells me perhaps just a bit more. We spent two days in the park. We started planning this trip back in April but that was already too late to book a room at the famous Ahwahnee Lodge in the Valley. So we spent our two nights at both the eastern and western edges of the park (in Lee Vining and Mariposa). And while we are not known as the All-American Outdoor Family, we did take a few day hikes in both...

Some people are so nuts. They think every body of water is a wishing well.

My vision of what my children would see when they first viewed the Sierras. The reality wasn't quite like that. Albert Bierstadt's Sunrise in the Sierras, courtesy of the Smithsonian American Art Museum

The drive from Las Vegas to the town of Lee Vining, the "gateway to Yosemite," would be the longest drive of our trip: six hours, give or take a rest stop or two or three or four.

Susie and I had prepared as much as two parents could for the day ahead. Gameboys and travel versions of our girls' favorite board games were conveniently accessible. We had entertained the notion of buying a portable DVD player but just couldn't make ourselves go down that road. After all, the purpose of this "drive by" was to show our children the wonders of the West. Living in the former swamp that is Washington, I miss the mountain vistas of my youth. Passing this appreciation on to my children was important.

All was going according to plan until we got about an hour from our destination. Suddenly, my youngest announced she was about to throw up. The first and only other time this had happened was last year while driving the winding roads of Puerto Rico. Back then it had caught us completely off guard. And we were most relieved to return a prestine rental car by the time we left the island. We didn't want to have this on our conscience this trip.

This time we flew into automatic pilot. Immediately upon Susie's command I pulled over (the long and empty road cooperated). She jumped out and opened the back door. My daughter leaned out and all was once again just as I envisioned our family road trip would be. For the rest of the journey we allowed the girls to roll down the back windows for some fresh air while we blew the AC to the front. "Whatever works" is the parents' first rule of survival. But a note to myself: next time bring a roll of paper towels and a big plastic bag. You know, for emergencies.

Landing in Las Vegas at night is a bit like landing at National Airport in DC: an incredible view of the city beckons you. McCarren International Airport is just south of The Strip. So our first look at the city lights came from our airplane's window. Despite our destination's proximity to the airport it would be two hours before we finally arrived at Treasure Island, our hotel. Baggage Claim, Rental Car, and finally the 24/7 traffic jam of Las Vegas Boulevard took precedence. After our ten hours of airplanes and airports we were hypnotized by the lights of the The Strip. And it wasn't until two days later as we drove north to our next stop in the Sierras that we realized there was a real and quite normal metropolis just beyond these lights.

"Statue" with offerings at the Venetian's version of St. Mark's Square (click for larger view)

Looking out our hotel window the next morning was like taking in a view of each "land" at Disneyland. You had your Italian Renaissance Land courtesy the Venetian across the street, Francoland as seen by the Paris' iconic Eiffel Tower replica, and Ancient Rome Land at Caesar's Palace. My nine year old daughter immediately announced "It's better than Disneyland!"

A cryptic photo-op at the MGM in Las Vegas As a boy family vacations were always an exciting prospect: traveling on adventures to the great unknown in the comfort of our 1953 Pontiac. No seat belts and open windows, the early morning desert air blowing in my face (no air conditioning of course). The 1950s and early 1960s were indeed an era of post-War American expansionism and hegomony over my small world of the San Fernando Valley. It was a prosperous and exciting time for a ten year old. Of course, I didn't have to plan the trip, just totally immerse...