3:30 pm, July 11: Day one of camping
So this one is being written for later because we’re on the road. Here’s hoping my ginger pill keeps me from getting carsick—they worked pretty well to alleviate it. The only problem is they give me acid reflux instead. It’s pretty much like _eating_ a wad of ground ginger, wrapped in a gelatin coating.
Tom is asleep at the table beside me, his head on his blue blanket, completely exhausted. I am offloading pictures and video from the Great Sand Dunes National Park & Reserve. Which was incredible. Pictures forthcoming. We got Dad some neatly colored granite and a bag of sand. Also, video of Tom getting filthy making a tunnel. Good times.
We’re passing through a small town, and just passed “Colorado Gators”…just a sign. I’d rather not investigate. We’re stopping to top off the gas and get Tom some sunglasses and a phone card, so just a moment…
…the place was called the “Loaf and Jug.” Tom woke up and went in with us—we got him some sunglasses and a 100 minute phone card—which should be fine, it’s not like he’s gonna be hanging out at the payphones, as Mark put it. We are now heading toward Mesa Verde with an estimated arrival time of 8:00 or so. I have 1hr, 38 min remaining battery time on this laptop.
Ahead of us is the Continental Divide, which is blue and fuzzy now. Tommy is playing with my DS, after cooing for precisely the amount of time required to keep me from fussing at him to enjoy the breathtaking scenery. It must be instinct. We also passed something called the Whispering Queen Motel. We are positively steeped in Americana. I want to edit the photos we’ve taken to get them ready to upload, but every time I try to hold the mouse, the vibrations make it chatter on the table like wind up teeth.
So this morning we dragged ourselves out of bed at 5:15 am, made Tom wash himself, stuffed all of our crap into the RV—somehow—My mother packed everything on the earth for Tom. I recall her doing the same for me back when. Never let it be said that my mother let her kids out unprepared. Or without whiteboards, three different kinds of drawing implements, 300 changes of underwear, a multitool, books, gameboy and games, 5 different card games, and a _fanny pack_ with instructions to fill it with a first aid kit, multitool, wallet, and phone, and wear it (for a 10 year old boy! The humanity. Tom mentioned it on the way to Detroit and Aaron says, incredulously, “You have a fanny pack?” the response? Said with infinite painful longsuffering resignation, “Dad made me.”)
While I was shoving crap into suitcases and folding sheets, Mark was dragging all kinds of crap out to the RV, while Chuck, Clara, and Aaron were doing vaguely similar things. I was too busy to notice, really :) Aaron helped me shove Tom’s massive suitcase into the storage compartment (somehow) hurting himself in the meanwhile. I tried to keep Tom from wandering into the street while on the phone with Mom.
Then we headed for the Sand Dunes and I promptly got insanely seasick and had to take ginger pills. I am now taking them every 3 hours as a preventative measure. :p
Aaron and I are apparently having a contest to see who can hurt themselves worse, but we never planned to enter one. Our most recent escapades: I stubbed my ring finger really hard on the corner of the wall after closing the window. He tried to carve his kidney out with a doorknob. If I’m counting correctly, think the score is Aaron: 27, Sam: 19. Anybody’s game.