Chapter One: the Right Way to Travel
Even the best-planned vacation can go awry. Of course, this trip did not start out as a vacation. Vince worked as a realtor full-time. I worked part-time in my position with the California Council for the Social Studies.
I hope you will come away from this series with an appreciation for the role of vacation mishaps that slow you down and help you enjoy the trip. Nothing is perfect, especially when traveling, but there is always something to learn and enjoy along the way.
This series was edited in 2024. As a new blogger in 2013, I wrote all ten posts in the third person. My pictures had never been processed, and some were not compelling. It had great bones, and I wanted to preserve the story as a travelogue.
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“Whether we notice it or not, we spend our days negotiating for something: for our spouse to do more housework, a child to eat just three more bites or go to bed on time, an extended deadline on a project, a salary increase, a better rate on a vacation package.”
-Christopher Voss
Any vacation that came out of this trip would be accidental or unplanned. Even though our trip was not a vacation, it wasn’t business either. We had a reason for traveling nearly 700 miles. For months, Vince looked online for a small trailer we could tow with the GMC pickup.
We had sold a 1976 GMC motor home – one that looked like a Barbie trailer. I thought it was super cute, but it was too small to move around in, and the chairs tilted you forward when you sat in them. There was no room for a couch.
We didn’t need a big or expensive trailer and found one in Oregon that we would use for short trips to the California coast when we had a weekend free. As the trip developed into an accidental vacation, I wanted to share the story with my blogging friends as an encouragement that there could be a positive outcome even when things go wrong.
Starting out, we never figured on anything going wrong. And it didn’t the first day.
The clear blue skies and scenic Mt. Lassen jutting 10,000 feet above us never worried us. Even though trusty Mt. St. Helens blew in 1980, we had no fear that either Mt. Lassen or Mt. Shasta would blow up. If we’d read about this history of the area before we left, we would know that Mt. Lassen had splattered some of itself across the miles in 1915. But luckily for us, we didn’t know that. That wasn’t destined to be a catastrophe during that trip.
We traveled in September. The beautiful California wildflowers: the yellow and orange poppies, red paint brush, and purple lupines that bloomed in the strips along the interstate had become dry weeds. The water lines around the lakes marked the drought-ridden state’s new lows. I fretted about the future of California’s water as we passed diseased and dying evergreens mingled with the lush green ones.
Strain as I could, I did not see even tiny indications of the fourteen patches of permanent snow as Mt. Lassen loomed closer to the right of us. The threat of snow in the area that gets the most snowfall in California had not yet begun. Riding along Interstate Five in our nine-year-old GMC Sierra pickup, our biggest worry was the closeness of the eighteen-wheelers next to us on both sides.
Fortunately, the eighteen-wheelers stayed in their lanes, and we stayed in ours, thanks to me holding my breath until we got into Oregon. Nor were we bothered by black bears or mule deer that roamed the Mt. Lassen National Forest coming onto the road. Some of the wildlife in Oregon would not be so obliging. The reason for our vacation being accidental would be forthcoming in the days to come.
If you’ve read the book The Accidental Tourist, you know that some travelers want the comforts of home while they travel. Vince is one of those tourists. Hotels can provide a comfortable bed and even a kitchen if you want to pay a premium price. Some allow you to bring your pets if they also enjoy traveling. Vince wanted a place to call home away from home. Our young dog, Kalev came along for the ride and to inspect and approve the trailer.
On the appointed day, we left only one-half hour late by Vince’s careful calculations, at 6:30 a.m. Vince called it a “travel adventure” rather than a vacation. I might have called a marathon drive. The 13-hour drive on the first day proceeded without incidents. Between sleeping off the remains of a cold, I kept copious notes as Vince dictated the mileage, the current temperature, and the exact location and time.
“It’s 2:46, and we are through the worst traffic. We have passed safely through Fresno. Modesto, Sacramento, and Mt. Shasta and Shasta Lake. It’s only 24 miles to Yreka.”
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Nothing disturbed Vince in his excitement. Even the Oregon fog and misty weather couldn’t dampen his good mood as the miles drew him nearer to his dream. At this point in the adventure, we felt nothing but excitement. We were going to have vacations and adventures at our disposal. His primary goal was to get to Florence by dark.
Driving into Florence was a mini-vacation. Vince loved the historic concrete bridge over the Siuslaw River. We reached The Old Town Inn in Florence, Oregon. Vince quickly checked into newly remodeled Room 104, tired but not worried.
“The clerk told me they have the best doughnuts in the world,” Vince reported.
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The misty clouds tickled our noses as we left the hotel on Thursday morning. Vince and Kalev seemed eager to inspect the trailer parked in the owner’s driveway in Reedsport, Oregon. Vince catches things that I overlook. He might have been more thrilled than I was about certain amenities.
“See all the spikey things coming off the new tires.”
We noticed the strange smell inside. Since all trailers smell a little, we dismissed it in our excitement to complete the purchase. Nothing like a strange smell would deter us after we drove thirteen hours.
It didn’t take long before Vince had completed the purchase of the trailer. “I think it was the ocean air.” As we headed north 20 miles to our hotel in Florence, Vince cautiously broached the forbidden topic of possible defects in the trailer.
“The ocean doesn’t smell like that.”
“Maybe it’s because it’s been closed for a while,” he said.
“Or they forgot to empty the holding tank,” I said. “It will disappear.”
“My biggest concern was the hook-up,” Vince said as we drove off. “The truck has been lowered, not slammed, but I know I will probably have to spend more money.”
I suspected a project in our future.
“So what do you think of the trailer overall?” I asked.
“I like it. We wanted a place we could be comfortable in when we go to the coast. It has a slide out. It’s nice. I think it is worth what we paid for it.”
Puppy Girl and I agreed with him.
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We thought we were on the last leg of the journey when we left our hotel in Florence that morning.
“You’ll travel safely, you’ll neither tire nor trip…Because God will be right there with you; he’ll keep you safe and sound.”
Proverbs 3:23, 26
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Accidental Vacation Chapter Two
Marsha Ingrao - Always Write 
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