“I'm so excited for my first plane ride!” Has been a common refrain around our house this Spring. Quinn has no persistent memories of any of his pre-pandemic flights, and couldn’t have been more excited. Mimi, who does remember some of our previous flights (as do I), is right there with him.
So, unsurprisingly, Quinn and Mimi were up at the crack of 6:30, pacing around their room until the light-up alarm clock turned green. Aimee and I anticipated this, so we had set our non-light-up alarm clock even earlier. We wanted to finish packing our bags without little hands undoing our work in real time. We would have done that the night before, but we had both stayed up late wrapping up some projects for work. That was the last thing we wanted to be thinking about on our vacation.
Simply flying a lap around Flagstaff would have been vacation enough for the kids, but we had something much better in mind. We were slated for our biennial meetup with Aimee’s Peace Corps friends. Those trips tend to alternate between low-key road trips and high-ambition foreign adventures. Thankfully (and not accidentally), this year was going to be a low-key road trip. We’re flying to Fresno, renting a car and meeting everyone in Yosemite National Park. From there, we’re heading up to the California Redwoods, and then sneaking up to visit some family in Portland. On second thought, maybe it would have just been easier to meet up in El Salvador again.
With our bags packed, and the kids awake so early, we had an unusual problem on our hands. We were going to have to kill some time. Our flight didn’t leave until 11:30 AM, and by 8:15 AM we were more than ready to get out of the house. So we took advantage of Flagstaff’s top-notch playgrounds. We still got to the airport about two hours too early, but simply being in an airport (even one as small as Flagstaff's) would be entertainment enough for the kids. But wait! We got a surprise assist from one of the kids’ school friends who was on the same flight to Phoenix with his family. Airport activity covered.
As if that wasn’t enough, Mimi developed an adorably close bond with, of all things, a trapped moth. The bug was sealed in the terminal, and we tried to tell Mimi that buildings like this don’t have any doors or windows that we can open to let it out. But that wasn’t enough for her. Almost in tears, she went up to a couple of airport employee to tell them about this travesty, and immediately won them over. They told her that if she was able to bring it open, they'd help her set it free. Amazingly, she caught the moth in her hands within seconds and went right back to the airport staff.
Fully charmed (and more than a little surprised), they walked her over to the emergency exit, typed in their access code, held open the door, and watched her set the moth free. I’d like to think that they’ll be telling that story at their retirement parties.
And then the moment arrived! The gate agents made the boarding announcement, and our kids got to walk out on the tarmac for their “first plane ride.”
Pure joy.
Like any first time flyers, they studied up on airplane safety as soon as they got on board.
The flight was a breeze. It was barely thirty minutes, and no fewer than 29 of them were filed with Quinn telling Mimi, “I’m so excited!!” It brought the house down. No fewer than a dozen people told us how adorable their narration was. Especially the parents of the clearly nervous older kid behind us who seemed to get some strength from the ebullient three year old in front of him.
And I should probably comment on the lack of masking. A few weeks prior to this trip, we had our second round of COVID. I'd still far rather we not have COVID, but it did take the edge off of our travel risk assessment.
We spent the Phoenix layover in the Admirals Lounge. It was a welcome respite, even if we did have to spend nearly all of it reminding the kids that they can’t just have the freely-available cherry candies for lunch.
The second leg was a bit longer, but still a delight. The early wake up was starting to show on the kids, but it was nothing that we couldn’t smother with PBS kids playing over Quinn’s first pair of headphones that we had given him an hour earlier. Thanks, Grandpa.
We landed in Fresno, and made our way to the baggage claim. Thankfully, there wasn't much left on our agenda that day. We just needed to pick up our rental car, grab some dinner, and hit the road. We went up to the rental counter, and got the keys in minutes. We had already reserved the car and prepaid. But as I was walking to the lot, I noticed that they had swapped the Toyota Corolla we has requested with an all wheel drive 4Runner. I’m sure it was intended as a bonus upgrade, but for our mostly-freeway trip up to Portland, that was going to cost us a fortune at the current gas prices. I had given up hope for a smaller car swap after hearing the rental agents tell the two people before me that they had essentially no inventory. But after my wife/environmental conscience shed a single tear when I told her what car we’d be driving, I went back to the counter. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask.
I told rental agents that I had an unusual question. “Do you have anything smaller?”
“Smaller? Really?” The agent replied incredulously.
“Yeah, we’re driving all the way up to Portland.” Shaking her head the way she would have had I asked to rent a submarine, she typed a few keystrokes into her computer. She mentioned a couple of models she had available—all trucks and SUVs. I didn’t recognize any of them, and she could see that in my face. After looking over to her colleague and pointing out something on her screen, she looked up to me and asked, “Do you want a Prius?”
“Really?! Yeah! I’d love a Prius!”
Wondering why she didn’t open with that, I still couldn’t believe my luck. It turned out that it was a hybrid SUV, but I wasn’t complaining. The extra headroom would be worth the small hit in mileage. It would still be way better than my first option.
With the car loaded up, we headed out to our rental house near Yosemite. The drive was a little longer than an hour, so we made a scorching-hot, semi-miserable stop on the outskirts of Fresno. But the stop was rescued by dinner at the most amazing jackfruit-based taco truck we've ever eaten at (although the only one we've ever eaten at). It was infinitely better than the local vegetarian restaurant advice we got from the Sprouts grocery clerk after picking up a cache of road trip snacks. "Do you want straight vegetarian or vegetarian oil-free." Oh, California. You never disappoint. When we told him that we're vegetarians, not masochists, he suggested we try such local fair as Chipotle and Panera. We knew we could do better, and stumbled upon a food truck rally next to the store we stopped at to replace my already-lost sunglasses (but at least I got the kids off the plane).
We continued on for an otherwise painless drive, and went further and further into the forest until we found the house. By further into the forest, I mean past where the road turns into a dirt road, then past where the dirt road turns into a path, then past where the path turns into a true-crime podcast. But despite the distinctly Dateline vibe, our mountain retreat looked delightful.
It obviously became infinitely more delightful when our friends greeted us at the door. We spent the rest of the evening chatting about how we all spent the distinctly-eventful year and half since we last saw each other.
Eventually, our reunion gave way to heavy eyelids. Our journey was by far the easiest; a third of us flew in from Cambodia, where Cicely and her family are currently posted. Before turning in, we talked over our plan for the next day. That would be our only full day at this stop, and we planned on spending it within Yosemite National Park. But when Alicia (the other third of the Peace Corps BFFs and this trip's default planner) pulled up the National Parks Service website, the color immediately ran out of her face.
“Um, guys, I’m so sorry. We need a permit just to get in.”
We did not have a permit.
The rest of us were taking it in stride, since the real reason for the trip was the reunion currently in progress. But Alicia felt terrible that one of the two nominal reasons for this trip (the other being Sequoia National Park) was suddenly off the table.
We told her it was no big deal, but then she brightened up and read out loud that anyone could enter the park outside of peak hours. The catch? Peak hours started at 6 AM, so we figured we were right back where we started. But Alicia rallied the group for a 5:00 AM wake-up and a sunrise view of one of our country’s first National Parks (presumably with our 6 kids). I was skeptical, to say the least, but Alicia's excitement was contagious. I figured I could pull it together after seven hours of sleep. But I wasn't the one settling in for an epic sleepover. In parallel to our 11th hour Yosemite research was a back bedroom full of six kids, a giant bowl of popcorn, a movie on TV and a whole lot of giggles.
There were going to be some seriously groggy kids the next morning. But I made peace with it and headed off to bed. It was good to be on the road again.
