The Undelivered Eulogy

10 years ago today my father died, and for the first time in my life I was in a world that did not include him.  It was a strange and unfamiliar place.

Richard Gayle VanTyne, Sr. was an uncomplicated man, which is not to say that he was simple. He was more a man of paradox: brilliant, yet driven by common sense.  Strong, yet intuitively empathetic.  Stubborn, yet with a willingness to admit wrong (which was not often). Uncomplicated, yet complex.

From him I learned the value of hard work and self-reliance.  In my childhood, I rarely saw a tradesman in our house as my dad stepped up readily to take on any task.  TV repair, plumbing, construction, animal husbandry, auto repair.  He did it all.  I helped him with countless projects in the garage and around the house - holding flashlights, finding screwdrivers, turning the ignition, holding boxes of Christmas lights as he hung them on the house.  It was only when I grew up that I realized how much more quickly he could have completed his projects had I not been so helpful.  But I know that those times were about he and I as much as the task at hand.  As I think about my childhood, I go back to those places and those moments.

He was far from perfect - he walked several feet in front of the rest of us.  He ignored what we were saying when we was interested in something else.  I'm told he was incredibly difficult to work for, as he was quite self-assured with his mastery of electrical engineering.  He frequently exercised bad judgment with the electronic prank devices he built for me and encouraged me to take to elementary school.

Our family camping trips were filled with home-made accessories - a crude fresh water sink in our pop-up, a camp kitchen, a trash bag toilet.  Our days would end with all four kids and mom and dad crammed into a tiny camper, listening to stories of his college days, his days in the Army, his variety of fancy cars in his youth.  He ignored our cries of having heard them a million times and just launched into them again and again.  Sadly he rarely spoke of what was a somewhat privileged but quite unhappy childhood.

The Spring before his illness came to light, I had decided to fly him to Utah to drive with me across the southwest in my convertible sports car.  Along with several of my like-minded friends, we sped through the mountains and deserts of Utah and Arizona in part to celebrate his 70th birthday.  I relished the time in the car - the idle banter, the deep topics and the quiet times just being with him.  I later appreciated the fact that we did not know of his imminent sickness, as it would have added an unfair gravity to that time.  As it was, we enjoyed each moment that came without fear of "squandering" any minute on frivolity.  Frivolity is underrated.

As his illness advanced, he never showed signs of discouragement.  It was his nature to be optimistic, not naively but pragmatically - as if it did not occur to him to be pessimistic in life.

As a parent now myself, I often wonder if I'm creating those moments that will be forever cast within my child's memory.  Am I her storyteller?  Am I her dreamer?  Am I such a father?  I realize that it is not about measuring myself against him.  That was not the lesson.  It is that I have a lifetime of moments from which to draw and in that way, he taught me everything I needed to know.  Work hard.  Do it yourself.  Tell stories.  Be confident things will work out.  Break the rules a bit.  Know what you are talking about.  Let her hold the flashlight.  

TrailerQuest 2010 - Days 13-16

Cacti, Vortices, Zion and snow

We departed the comfy resort in Las Cruces and began the trek across New Mexico headed towards Tucson.  The seemingly never-ending onslaught of billboards somehow reminded me of my youth and the few trips we took to NM and AZ.  Moccasins, turquoise jewelry, inexpensive cigarettes, beef, Dairy Queen, pottery and my favorite - "Hillbilly Figurine Collectibles".  I haven't pieced together what part of the Navajo tradition embodies the modern exaggerated and stereotyped ceramic hillbilly crafted in China, but maybe I'm missing something.

It was a long haul - through western NM and into the greater Tucson area.  We decided to forego RV park "camping" and stayed at the Catalina State Park just outside the northeastern corner of the city.    It is clear that the city sprawl has headed towards the pretty side of town and has nearly swallowed this large state park.  If you forget a piece of essential gear there is a Dick's Sporting Goods just across the street from the park entrance.

Somehow the park felt far away from all of that and was equipped with power and water connections to make camper life easier.  We parked ourselves on the perimeter near the cacti with a wonderful view of the Catalina mountains.  The facilities at the park - restrooms and showers - were probably the best I've ever seen at a campground, public or private.  Unfortunately it was chilly and very windy so our time at the park was limited to being inside the camper.

The next morning after a quick breakfast we hitched up and headed towards AZ and the quirky rich hippy vortex-laden red rock extravaganza known as Sedona.  The drive through Phoenix was tedious as that city has grown into such a sprawling metro area of connected suburbs.  The landscape of AZ is almost cartoonish - dry barren hills covered quite specifically with Saguaro cactus.

We arrived in Sedona in the late afternoon and stayed at an RV park located right in the middle of town. It was actually quite nice and sat next to the river that runs through town.  We took a break from camper life and headed into town for some pizza and pasta at a nice organic restaurant (see note above about rich hippies).  From there we drove to the upper part of town and strolled through a few shops and stopped in for some ice cream.

In the morning we walked down to the river and let Anya dig in the sand.  It is worth noting that her favorite camping activity appears to be rock hounding, rock moving, handing rocks to you, taking rocks from you and covering herself in dirt/sand/gravel/mud.

Departing Sedona we made the run for Utah, bypassing the Grand Canyon in the quest for Zion National Park.  The wind has been relentless on this trip since Fort Stockton, TX and has made travel - especially uphill travel - that much slower.

We passed the Vermillion Cliffs and failed to stop at any of the innumerable Navajo roadside stands until we entered Utah and the freakshow idiot hamlet of Kanab, UT.  In 2006 the Kanab Mayor and city council passed the "Natural Family Resolution" which codifies the definition of a "natural family".  To paraphrase the resolution - a family must be a married man and woman, ordained by God, open to a 'full quiver of children', where they envision young women growing into wives, homemakers, and mothers' and 'see young men growing into husbands, home-builders, and fathers'.

Sorry for the tangent here but that rules out most everyone I know, including us.  Sorry single parents.  Sorry families with one or no children.  Sorry working women.  Of course sorry single people or gays.  I never understood the point of adopting this resolution in a town almost solely dependent upon transient tourist dollars - tourists who do not stay and taint your Utopia anyway.  I'll be spending my money in LaVerkin where they have declared the city to be a UN-free Zone and at one time attempted to require their residents to carry concealed weapons.  Southern Utah is an amusing place.

We drove through Zion National Park and stopped for the night in Springdale - a beautiful little town.  After settling into our RV park, we decided to head out once again and get some restaurant food.  As fate would have it we inadvertently chose the only five-star establishment in Springdale and sauntered in with all of our 2 week road trip patina.  While quiet couples dressed in black and white gazed at each other over a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon, the VanTyne family strolled in as such:

Daddy - Hawaiian palm tree surfer shorts, wrinkled button up shirt with "camping trip" flannel overshirt, Chuck Taylor shoes, un-showered for 2 days.

Momma - Chuy's restaurant t-shirt, shorts, Keen shoes, fleece, baseball hat.

Child - doesn't really matter what she was wearing, only mattered that she was a child.

We were made to feel comfortable and welcomed and were assured there was no dress code.  We enjoyed one of the finest meals we have had in years - filet mignon, angus appetizers, mixed greens, vegetables, etc.  One diner on her way out stopped at our table and said "I didn't hear her once this evening!".  To Anya's credit (and Momma's), she was very good at dinner.  The din of the date-night conversation far overpowered her occasional squeals for more pasta or bread.  All in all very nice and we can highly recommend the Parallel Eighty-Eight restaurant in Springdale if you ever find yourself there.

The next morning brought the final leg of TQ2010 - Zion to Sandy.  We said goodbye to the magnificence of Zion NP and hit the road heading north.  It is a familiar and somewhat unremarkable route up I-15.  We arrived home late in the evening and were met with cold rain and later snow.  Snow.

Overall a fun albeit exhausting trip.  With so many miles to cover we never had a chance to sit and relax in any one place.  It was mostly an exercise in driving, stopping, setting up, eating, sleeping, taking down and driving.  But we are happy to have "Lagom" in the driveway waiting to go places with us.

Thanks for reading.  Hope to see you in the mountains sometime.

Final Mileage Ticker - 3908 miles total

TrailerQuest 2010 - Days 10-12

Bye Bye Bandera, Bats, BFE and Beswankyment

We got up on Sunday for the final morning of the Casita Rally, had our coffee and began our goodbyes.  There were many nice folks involved in the Rally and we enjoyed meeting people from all over the country - Texas, Virginia, Florida, Utah, Oregon, Arizona.  I could go on.....

A couple of hours north and we were in Austin - a truly unique and vibrant town.  On the eastern outskirts of town, down a long road which becomes MLK Blvd., sits the Oak Forest RV Park.  Mind you we have never stayed in an RV park prior to this trip - its just not the way we "camp".  But since this was the shakedown trip and I wanted to make sure all was well, we are hanging with the full time, Class A, retiree crowd.  Generally speaking they have no idea what to make of us and our little 17 foot camper.  A few motorhomes appear as if I could simply back my camper into their storage hold and have them take it to our next waypoint for us.

We were also very close to a great neighborhood of new, modern homes called "Agave".  We took a quick side trip down the streets and it reminded me of the neighborhoods in Palm Springs, although it was decidedly more experimental and of course more recent.

Back at Ock Forest I actually had one RV-er tell me she was shocked to see three people come out of the Casita, as if we have just emerged from a single refrigerator box underneath a bridge.  I don't think she meant it as shittily as it sounded but I can tell you without hesitation that most people have really big RVs.  Really really really big.  So the whole notion of little camping trailers befuddles them.

Anyway back to Austin.  We drove into town in the evening and enjoyed a fine Mexican dinner at Chuy's on Barton Springs and drove to the Congress street bridge to witness the nightly emergence of one and a half million Mexican free-tail bats.  It was awesome!  Just before dark they begin to fly from underneath the bridge in a large stream of black floppiness.  Truly spectacular.

The next morning was a grind of a driving day - Austin to Ft. Stockton, TX.  It's not a huge distance, but with a 20 month old and with a tire speed limit of 60 MPH it can be slow going.  We stopped every so often to stretch, pick flowers and run around and generally get out of the car.

Coming into Ft. Stockton as we made our way to the Hilltop RV Park we spotted what first appeared to be a group of young calves wandering on the side of the road.  Upon closer proximity it turned out to be a family of javelina - probably 7 or 8 of them.  All that Laura and I could think of was that we had just seen the ROUSes.

We met lots of people living temporarily at the Hilltop park.  They were in the area getting some kind of plant started up.  They descended upon the happy Utah family with their Shriner clowncar-sized camper immediately upon our arrival.  All very nice.

Tuesday morning we headed for Las Cruces, NM as we begin the daily pack and grind driving to get home.  We have the trailer setup process down to about 7 minutes from the time we pull into a spot.  Tonight we are staying at the Hacienda RV Resort, a truly top shelf experience.  The park is immaculate.  We are by far the smallest camper onsite but don't really feel out of place or unwelcome.  We are like a novelty act.

We are showered, fed and heading off to sleep and trundle to Tucson tomorrow.  We'll be staying at a State Park so it will be like actual camping!  Maybe I'll go soak in the hot tub before our complimentary breakfast tomorrow morning.  This RV park "camping" is really odd for us but it is comfy.  As nice as this resort is, there is something wrong about being in a camper and seeing a WalMart sign across the highway.  But at least we got to watch more bats - not millions, but 5 or 6 circling a streetlight catching bugs.  Bats are cool.

TrailerQuest 2010 - Days 8-9

Fiesta, the ice cream social and the worst meal of our adult lives

Greetings once again from Skyline RV Park in Bandera, TX!  The Bluebonnet Casita Rally is wrapping up tomorrow and we will be heading to Austin for a night.

We woke up Friday and after attending the morning coffee pot and sweet roll meeting decided to spend the afternoon in San Antonio.  A leisurely one hour drive put is in the heart of downtown as the city continued its annual Fiesta San Antonio celebration.  We expected traffic, swelling throngs of festival-goers and parking hassles and were not disappointed.  Taking a chance that we would get lucky we drove straight to an area one block away from the Alamo and a short walk from the famed Riverwalk with convenient access to the freeway.

Parking for the festival provided us with several ways to part with our hard earned cash.  Seizing upon a brief window of opportunity we parked at a large hotel which was offering parking in their lot for $20 instead of the going rate of $35.  Money well-spent!  

For those who have not been the San Antonio Riverwalk is a network of walkways along the banks of the San Antonio River, one story beneath downtown San Antonio, Texas. Lined by bars, shops and restaurants, the River Walk is an important part of the city's urban fabric and a tourist attraction in its own right.

The weather was warm and humid but nothing like the oppressive weather in the Texas summer months.  We ate lunch outside along the river, strolled into shops, taunted waterfowl (well, one of us did), and enjoyed the building energy of Fiesta.  Anya was a popular target for party-goers throwing beads and trinkets from the passing riverboats.

After we returned to street level, a brief walk took us to the Alamo - the former Roman Catholic mission and site of the battle of the Alamo in 1836.  Inside the thick stone walls made for a cool retreat and large arrangements of flowers all around provided a sweet and pleasant smell.  The grounds surrounding the Alamo were lush and serene and Anya took great joy in seeing the koi fish swimming in the moat and in chasing squirrels into trees and shrubs.

One thing I thought was odd - the name "The Alamo" is trademarked.  I don't know why that struck me as it did.  It was like reading something that says "The Pacific Ocean™" or "The sky™".

We weathered our first torrential weather event that night, with a tornado watch all night and a severe thunderstorm warning for several hours.  It was enough to make me rethink how much I had mentally ridiculed the crazy lady who cornered me in the rec room and told me how she always stays in site number 77 because right behind site number 77 there is a ditch that leads under the laundry room building and you can crawl into it in case of a tornado.  I kept thinking "Which direction did that batshit insane woman say I should crawl when I got to the laundry room ditch?".  It pounded, rained, blew, thundered and was generally nasty all night and our little trailer held up just fine.  Laura said "I'm so glad we aren't in our old pop-up right now".  I agreed, but mostly because that would mean we were in someone's driveway back in Utah.

Seaworld lost the contest for what to do on Saturday, with "nothing much" surging ahead at the last minute.  Breakfast was the morning coffee pot and pancake breakfast followed by a 2 hour session on modifying your camper.  The discussion on riveting was, well…..riveting.  (So stupid but how many times will I attend a discussion on riveting where I need to describe it later?).  We talked about plumbing, solar panels, lots of apparent confusion about receiving TV signals in the digital era and such.  Good info.

Lunch took us into the town of Bandera and that is where we fell into the culinary circle of hell in Dante's Inferno.  It was a beautiful post-storm afternoon and we wanted to sit outdoors along the main street in town and watch the silly mix of historical cowboy re-enactors, weekend Harley turds and locals.  That meant only one place - the "Texaritas" eatery and its inviting streetfront patio.  Sure it was gritty and rough.  Oh the signage promised steaks and ribs and burgers.  Yes there were a few people there.

Service was the first strike.  After we had been ignored for about 20 minutes, Laura stopped a random waiter and asked if we could get menus and something to drink.  He said "sure, we are just really busy right now".  Laura glanced around the patio of perhaps 20 other diners and replied "…..O…….K…….".   You now, in that Laura way.  I'll spare you the full details about service and food and just hit the noteworthy bits:

- our cutlery and iced tea refills were facilitated by someone's grandmother who was sitting at the table next to us.  She was just another customer.

- Laura's one and only small bite of her hamburger ended with the dialog "Does this meat smell funny to you?".  "Yep, it smells like sour milk".  "That's what it tasted like".

- It was the first time I have eaten potato salad that was clearly made with Sweet N Low

- if you have never eaten strips of fat, basted in BBQ flavored vaseline you should not start now

- we tipped the grandmother

I finally said to Laura "this $20 that we leave will give us the legal right to just run the hell out of this place.  It may well be the best $20 we spend on this trip".  Thankfully Anya napped the entire time at this gastronomical butthole of a restaurant.  We ended up eating lunch at a Greek place around the corner, run by a Chilean woman and her Greek husband.

Our day ended at the rally ice cream social and prize raffle.  Anya is sleeping in the camper now, Laura is reading inside and I'm sitting outside in the cold night air typing this while sitting next to our official cocktail station.  I'm happy for both Laura and I that the time window within which food poisoning commences has come and gone since lunch.

We're off to Austin tomorrow morning.  Maybe the urban bats will be out.