Random pictures

Here’s some cool pictures that I don’t have enough to say about to make a full blog post about each one.

Laura and Alex’s cat, Caden:

Laura (left) and Sarah (right) at Meta Classic Campus, where Alex was able to get them visitor passes and give them a tour (he works there).

Sarah is Laura’s sister from a previous relationship of mine (Rob’s daughter, for those of you who remember that far back). Sarah’s doing well, still in Olympia, married, and works as a caregiver. She came out to California to see Laura and then they flew to Hawaii together.

Here’s the awesome timeshare in Hawaii that Laura’s dad procured for her. David somehow got the entire top floor of that building (2 beds, 2 baths, full kitchen, wrap around porch, etc.) for them for “free” with points. I need to find out what points program he is on!!

Here’s Laura in the resort’s pool:

Views from the timeshare (excuse the poor photo quality, they’re screenshots from a video she sent me)

Looks like it was a great trip! Laura was very happy to see Sarah.

Meanwhile, back in Tucson, here’s a random cactus in my front yard:

A great picture John took recently of an owl on the neighbor’s house:

Here’s some dorky Arizona tourists trying to take a selfie at a resort in Tucson – oh wait – we live in Tucson now so we’re not really tourists. Well, the rest of that would be correct. Hey dude, take off the sunglasses!

The third, and definitely best looking, member of the family:

Oh, and a statue of a javelina riding a tandem bicycle. No, I don’t know why.

Probably because Tucson is known for its bike trails and its javelinas? So put them together and that’s what you’ve got! But like, shouldn’t there be another javelina on that tandem?

To send Kristina a comment, email turning51bykristina@gmail.com.

Kristina’s Website: Life Coaching for Adults with Autism

Guen

Hi everyone, I’ve been busy (more on that later) but I wanted to drop a quick note because we have another name change in the family. Chirstina is now going by Guen, which is pronounced “Gwen” and is short for Guenhwyvar. Her friends have been calling her Guen for some time now. Now it’s time we join them!

Callan and Guen are both doing well; they are going to the gym regularly, enjoying it, and making great progress. They often send me selfies to let me know they’re at the gym, and I love getting those regular pictures of their happy faces.

It’s especially fun because all they’re doing is saying “Here we are!” and not trying to carefully pose for posterity. So they’re very candid and enjoyable pictures.

I don’t think they’ll mind if I post a few 🙂

They always brighten my day.

The only problem is because they’re going to the gym, Callan’s hair is pulled back in the gym selfies.

Callan has amazing hair.

To send Kristina a comment, email turning51bykristina@gmail.com.

It always comes back to Utah

Next stop, Utah! Because we were coming down from Twin Falls, and now live in Tucson rather than Albuquerque, some of our usual Utah destinations were fairly far out of our way. We decided to look for a new spot where we’ve never stayed before.

John suggested a region, the Red Canyon area off Highway 12, south of Panguitch. I opened the maps app, toggled to satellite view, and started looking for a promising spot. I could see trailheads along a clear north-south demarkation line where the red rock formations started.

I zoomed in and started panning around, looking for somewhere we could potentially camp. How about that “Camp Lp” just north of the Arches and Losee Canyon trailheads?

It’s always a real bonus to have trailheads within walking distance of our site, because then we can hike whenever we want without breaking camp, packing up the van, and potentially losing our camping spot. I prefer real trails to just scrambling around, because when John and I start rock scrambling, it always gets steeper than I like. I prefer to mindlessly follow a trail, it’s very meditative. Scrambling can be interesting, but sometimes bordering on terrifying – definitely not meditative.

Wow, that little spur road called Camp Loop was better than I had even imagined.

Here’s John bringing rocks to drive up on to level the van. I’m always telling him, “Don’t hurt your back!” Use smaller rocks for pete’s sake! He’s strong but I’m afraid he’s going to compress his spine or something. We aren’t young anymore!

Ok that’s more reasonable.

Ta-da! The perfect camping spot.

Over the course of a couple of days we took several hikes. John found a cave (he loves caves).

Guess what was in the cave? A geocatch!

He didn’t write in the logbook – I guess because he wasn’t looking for it. I figured it still counted!

We took a ton of photos, so I’m just going to post a bunch more without any commentary. They pretty much speak for themselves!

Yeah, that was a ridiculous number of pictures, I know! We just couldn’t stop taking them, it was all so very beautiful.

If you’re one of my readers who signed up to get this blog by email, it’s likely your email provider did not include all the pictures. You can see them all here.

To send Kristina a comment, email turning51bykristina@gmail.com.

Kristina’s Website: Life Coaching for Adults with Autism

Our final day in Idaho

On the walk back from kayaking, we ran into Biska’s doggie friends; two standard poodle mixes (doodles of some sort) at a neighboring cabin. Biska loves other dogs more than anything else in life, so we let them run around together for a few minutes. It was a very rural area, without much traffic on those back gravel roads.

The only issue was some sort of awful burrowing seed, like cheatgrass but in a corkscrew shape that twisted itself into the dogs. The poodles were in much worse shape than Biska, with their thick curly fur. But even with Biska’s straight fur, we still had to carefully remove all the seeds each time before she came inside.

We were due to leave our Idaho cabin the next morning. What should we do for our final afternoon? We had hiked! And we had kayaked! The forecast was yet again calling for afternoon thunderstorms. What was the point of sticking around until morning, just sit inside for another rainy afternoon? Plus, the bed was super small. It was supposedly a queen size but I think it was just a double. We would be just as comfortable in our van.

Plus, if we waited to leave until morning we’d hit Salt Lake City at rush hour on a Thursday afternoon (which is worse than Fridays nowadays). We’d get in late at our campground that night. For that matter, why were we even planning to stay at a campground? Maybe we should just leave early and wing it!

John remembered a pleasant-enough county park with RV camping outside Twin Falls. If we left now instead of waiting until morning, we could get there by evening and have a big jump start on the following day. We could breeze through Salt Lake before rush hour and have time to find a private boondoggle site (an at-large spot where it’s ok to camp) instead of staying at the campground we had reserved.

We loaded up, texted the airbnb host that we had a nice time but were leaving early, and headed out into the approaching rain.

Here we are at the county park the next morning.

Next stop – Utah! Where we were looking at – more afternoon thunderstorms.

To send Kristina a comment, email turning51bykristina@gmail.com.

Kristina’s Website: Life Coaching for Adults with Autism

Lake Cabin Kayaking

We were excited to discover a tandem kayak we could borrow in the cabin basement.

For some reason, it was twice as heavy as ours at home, even though it was the same size as our tandem kayak. It must have been made of older materials.

Luckily there was also a kayak cart with it. But it was still a heavy haul to the water. It didn’t help that we didn’t scope our route ahead of time. Sometimes John is overly optimistic, imagining the world to be the way he wants it to be. And he never acts unsure. So I never know when to say, “Uh wait, do you know what you’re getting into?” Also if it doesn’t work out, it usually doesn’t bother him too much. He just powers through unexpected obstacles, even if it’s harder and takes longer than he had hoped.

I think my lack of stamina and history of migraines makes me more cautious about being sure I know what I’m getting into. (Except that crazy road going to that campground with the kids. I definitely failed to adequately query my brother about that road, lol.) Sometimes you just have to trust that life is going to work out.

Too steep, can’t get the kayak down that way.

Too steep here too. It’s perfect on the other side of the water.

Sure enough, we ended up having to haul it back out to the road, down to the cross street, around the corner, and across the pedestrian bridge to the other side.

Ah, we made it! It’s Biska’s first time on a kayak. She’s having a good time.

As usual, the afternoon clouds were building.

But we still had some time, and it was warm and beautiful.

No wind yet, the water was smooth.

I also spent some time relaxing while John rowed.

Time to head back! Just a few fluffy white clouds in one direction, but steel gray the other way.

To send Kristina a comment, email turning51bykristina@gmail.com.

Kristina’s Website: Life Coaching for Adults with Autism

Northern Idaho hike on our anniversary

The next morning was our anniversary and we decided to spend it going on a hike. At first we checked out the recommendation from our airbnb hosts; they advised taking the trails that started from a nearby resort. We drove over there but did not find any trails that seemed like a “real” hike.

So we headed further north for about an hour, and deeper into the mountains. The next trailhead wasn’t actually what we were looking for, but we were anxious to start hiking. A group of people were unloading and John didn’t want to be caught behind them, but meanwhile I wanted to go back to the van for something I forgot (I’m always deciding I want a different pair of glasses or a different hat, or I forgot my walking stick or some darn thing.)

Then we made the mistake of letting Biska off leash with too many people nearby. To our surprise, Biska dashed back down the way we had come and started barking at the people behind us! She never does that. John had her leash and was fairly far up the trail in front of us, while I was running back down the trail trying to grab her by the collar and apologize to the people.

Well, you can see where this is going. We ended up having an argument on the trail on our anniversary! About why we were on a steep, crowded trail when I had specifically not wanted a trail that started off going downhill, and why we let Biska off leash with people around, and why we were in such a big rush and failing to communicate. This whole vacation was having its challenging moments!

We decided to try another trail just a little bit further up the road. We hiked out, got back in the van, drove another few miles and tried the next trailhead.

Whew, third try was the charm. That trail was great and we were the only people on it. It was a beautiful trail.

If you’re wondering why we were the only people on such a beautiful trail while the other one was crowded, it’s because the other one went down to a waterfall. People are total suckers for promised waterfalls. But I grew up in the Pacific NW where spectacular waterfalls are a dime a dozen. John and I are out for the hike itself and not a shrug-worthy destination a mile down a crowded trail.

But by then it was later than we meant to get started, and we knew we were running the risk of being caught by afternoon thunderstorms.

When we got to this river, John didn’t trust Biska to walk across the log. She’s certainly agile enough, but she can be fearless and reckless and has no concept of fast running water. He was afraid she’d jump in and get swept off her feet.

Once I got out on the log, I turned around, looked back at the view and realized the storm behind us was closer than I thought. I decided we needed to turn around.

That almost looks blue in the upper right hand corner of this next picture, but it was a deep gray.

So John carried Biska back across again and we started out, heading toward the storm.

We weren’t so worried about the approaching storm that I couldn’t stop to snap a flower shot or two.

And Biska got plenty of opportunities to sniff around off-trail.

I really love that guy, even though we do argue occasionally.

And we made it to the van before the rain started.

It was a good anniversary hike after all.

To send Kristina a comment, email turning51bykristina@gmail.com.

Kristina’s Website: Life Coaching for Adults with Autism

The cabin in the woods

After Callan and Chirstina and I got back from our rained out camping trip with the crazy road, we chilled at their house for the rest of the day. The kids were exhausted after their punctured tire ordeal. I heated up something quick for dinner. Chirstina is a good cook and had been doing most of the cooking, so I was happy to chip in. Mainly I was happy we were all home safely.

We hung out and recuperated from our adventure. The kids play a cooperative computer game together that sounded interesting. When they play, they are each at their own computer and each have their own avatar, but they are in the same game together. They work together to overcome the challenges encountered in the game. It seemed like a bonding mutual hobby.

We all took it easy the next day too, just playing some cards and going on a walk. Chirstina did a little bit of green chili roasting and cooking baking too. Yum yum!

On Sunday morning John flew to Boise from Tucson. He helped the kids with some handyman household fix-it items on Sunday afternoon. John is by far the most handy person in my entire extended family. So he is always welcome to visit anytime!

On Monday morning John and I and Biska headed up north to the cabin we had rented for our anniversary. It did indeed look like the pictures on the website.

The downstairs section in the back wasn’t very useful space – you couldn’t get to it from inside the main part of the cabin. You had to go outside and around to get to it. There were just a couple of bunks and an old couch down there – probably perfect for teenagers. It wasn’t much use to us, but we were happy to discover a kayak down there.

Here’s the inside of the main part of the cabin on the upper floor.

There was a small kitchenette too, in that same room, along the left wall next to the front door. The upstairs was a small but perfectly functioning studio unit. It would not have been a good layout for more than one couple, but it was fine for us. And very private in a pretty area.

Biska prefers to be outside in the nice weather, but rain was coming.

We always remove decorative pillows and put sheets down so Biska doesn’t get dog hair on everything.

We got unloaded and settled in just in time for the rain.

It was definitely quite wet. But we were snug in the cabin.

To send Kristina a comment, email turning51bykristina@gmail.com.

Kristina’s Website: Life Coaching for Adults with Autism

A quick catch-up post

I’ve been doing a lot of traveling and am now several blog posts behind. For those of you who are texting me wondering where I am, what’s going on, and why I’m not answering my texts, it’s because my life lately has been like: drive all day, be somewhere for 3 days, drive all day, home for 3 days (laundry and clients!), drive all day, be somewhere for 3 days, drive all day…except next week I fly all day (worse!).

Tracey, after asking where I was, says, “Wow! Trying to hit every state?!!” No, just Nevada, Idaho, Utah, Arizona (of course), New Mexico, back to Arizona and then Massachusetts. I won’t count all the states I have to fly over to get to Boston next week. Maybe I’ll have time to catch up on this blog once I get to Boston. Hahaha, oh my, with 4 little ones in the house that is unlikely.

Speaking of:

There’s my motivation to get on that plane to Boston! But I’m getting ahead of myself. I haven’t told you yet about the rest of Idaho, Utah and New Mexico.

Before I post about the rest of the Idaho trip, I did want to answer some follow-up questions some of you sent about my last post about van trips and scary roads. When John and I are traveling together, we have occasionally gotten ourselves out on a road we really shouldn’t be on in that big van. By the time the road has truly degenerated enough that we don’t want to be on it, any turn-around options are generally long gone. In those rare occasions, I get out and guide John as he backs the van out. Short distances aren’t too hard, but once or twice we’ve had to back out fairly far before it’s wide enough to turn around.

It’s much easier when there is a second person to walk outside and direct. It can get tricky with twists and turns and big boulders and ruts (not to mention sheer drop offs). In order to have backed out on that road in Idaho, I would have wanted to have one of the kids walking ahead (behind me in the direction I was backing) to make sure I was staying far enough away from the cliff.

But we didn’t have any cell tower and I couldn’t signal them to stop. The kids were periodically waiting for me, but the problem was, they would start going again every time they got a glimpse in their rearview mirror that I was still back there. The road was so twisty that the moment they saw me appear around a corner, they disappeared around the next corner and could no longer could see me.

If I had stopped, I suppose they would have eventually figured out the van was no longer following them, but I did not want to put them in the position of having to turn around and look for me. I could just imagine them sitting and waiting a few curves in front of where I had stopped wondering what to do next. I guess I could have abandoned the van (on a twisty, one-lane, washed-out dirt road with nowhere to pull over and a sheer drop to the reservoir far, far below) and started walking in their direction.

But even if I did manage to get the kids to stop and help me reverse that van off that mountain, it would have taken at least a couple of hours, and it definitely would have ruined the camping trip. It didn’t sound like a fun option. So I just kept telling myself, hey, both my kids and my brother had been out there before, surely it was fine. I could ignore my fear of heights and sheer cliff edges. Irrational fears are irrational, right? But I am for damn sure not doing that road again.

Next up, some great pictures of Idaho, some fantastic pictures of Utah, and two more trips after that – stay tuned.

To send Kristina a comment, email turning51bykristina@gmail.com.

Kristina’s Website: Life Coaching for Adults with Autism

Way too much adventure

The plan was for me to work on Wednesday, and then Callan, Chirstina and I would leave to go camping Thursday morning. The campground wasn’t very far away, so we took our time getting packed up, and left around noon. Callan and Chirstina took the lead in their Nissan Sentra, and Biska and I followed in my camper van.

As we neared the turnoff to the mountain road, I casually took this photo out my car window for John. We’re always on the lookout for marinas now that he’s brought our sailboat home from Florida. This particular lake is only about half an hour from where Callan and Chirstina live. Notice the nice, wide, paved road, with the beautifully reassuring cement divider being used as a guardrail. But it’s a trap! A devious trap!

Remember back when Steven went to visit Callan and Chirstina and they went to a beautiful campground? And Steven sent that 3-part blog entry for me to post? Do you remember when he mentioned a difficult road? He said, “The route soon became a winding dirt road along the side of the mountains – the sort that has two way traffic but is only one lane wide in many places, requiring some negotiation and maneuvering when there is another vehicle.  Fortunately the speed limit was only 25 mph, and Chirstina had quick reflexes so we made it there safely.

Well, that comment did not adequately register in my brain. Partly because our whole family has a dry sense of humor. “Chirstina had quick reflexes so we made it safely” Hahaha, whatever, right?

OMG. OMG. OMG.

The road started out flat and wide. The washboarding was annoying, and I took it slowly. My van is full of stuff; a microwave, an air conditioner, a sink, a toilet, everything was shaking and banging. The kids were ahead of me and they kept having to stop to let me catch up.

After passing the main marina, we also passed a couple of smaller boat launches. It was a beautiful drive. Then the road started climbing. It got twisty and narrower and narrower. The drop off became sheer, with no trees or bushes or guardrails along the edge. It was a straight drop to the reservoir far below.

The road became alarming by degrees, so by the time I realized I really shouldn’t be out there, I couldn’t turn the van around. I’m also not skilled enough to back it down such a twisty, narrow track. I would have backed it right off the cliff.

Occasionally a car would approach from the other direction, and the road was so narrow that we would each have to come to a stop and pull over as far as possible and ease past each other. Often, one car would have to back up to find a wide enough section of road to let the oncoming car go by.

We were on the outside edge, with the reservoir to our right. Sometimes I had only a few inches between my tires and the cliff edge. My mind was screaming at me to stop, but then what do I do? Abandon the van, block the road, and walk home? I didn’t know what to do other than try to continue onward.

I tried to tell myself that I just have issues with anxiety and a fear of heights and everything was actually fine. I mean, there were other people out there. And the kids had done the road before. We were going the same place my brother had gone earlier this summer. Surely it was ok? But it wasn’t fine. Even the logical, reasonable, thinking part of my brain knew it was dangerous.

I was petrified. And the road kept going and going. It took well over an hour, creeping along at 10 mph. Sometimes I would stop in a wide spot and let a car creep past me. I would watch them continue on, and couldn’t believe how close to the edge they drove.

It was just a sandy bluff. It could be badly undercut. In fact, there were regular ruts where water had washed across the road, cutting divots into the side of the road as the water tumbled off the cliff, further narrowing a road that was already only a single-lane track.

I wish I had pictures for you, but obviously, I was too busy driving. And trying to remember to breathe. And trying not to panic. I told myself not to cry because it would impair my vision, and I was focused hard on every rock, dip and jog in the road. One mistake and we would be on the bottom of the reservoir.

I remember one time in particular I encountered an oncoming smaller van, being driven by a couple of young guys. They stopped and I was supposed to swing out around them onto a tiny, tiny wide spot hovering over the reservoir. I knew couldn’t do it. I stared at the guys, and stared at the miniature overhang. I shook my head and put my van into reverse. I eased backwards, aiming at an oblique angle back toward the embankment. I figured if I backed the side of the van into the mountain and just stopped, they could go around me. Sure enough, the guys gave me a friendly wave and pulled out to the edge to go around me.

After they were gone, I sat there for a minute, pulled tight to the left edge of the single-lane track. I knew I needed to put the van back into drive and go forward, out toward that cliff edge. I wondered if I could go on. Eventually I put it into gear and crept forward.

As we passed the upper dam the road widened a bit. Now we were following a river and there was ground on both sides of the road. Solid ground. Lovely, wonderful, ground on both sides of the van.

We had made it, and we were alive. I was still sane, but completely trashed. The first campground looked great to me, but the kids kept driving. Intermittently they would wait for me, until they could see me behind them, and then they would drive onward.

Soon they stopped at the second campground. It was small, empty, and beautiful. We parked, and got out. We’re here, finally we made it! Apparently the kids had an argument on the way out and were still in surly moods. How could they have possibly navigated that insane road while arguing? It’s a wonder they didn’t end up in the lake. It was all too much for me.

We set up camp and Biska played along the river. It was idyllic for about an hour.

Then the afternoon clouds started building. At first we didn’t think anything of it.

Afternoon thunderstorms are common and Chirstina assured me that if it did rain, it would only be for a few minutes. We readied our site for a brief thunderstorm.

We got a rain shower with a little bit of wind and thunder, and we thought we had seen it all.

After the rain passed, the kids made a fire and roasted marshmallows in a light sprinkling of rain. I roasted one or two but my heart wasn’t into it. I was pretty sure we had a lot more rain to come and I was worried about the road out. I was already dreading the drive back.

As it got dark, the rain picked up. There was nothing to do but crawl into bed and listen to the steady rain. It rained a long time. The kids were fine in their enormous tent, and Biska and I were dry in the van. But I was frightened, with visions of a slippery, treacherous washed-out road. That nightmare of a road was the only way out. I tried to calm my mind and just wait to see what the morning would bring.

First thing in the morning I set my Starlink back up, and tried again to get enough satellite connection to get a weather update. I had been able to use my Starlink to bring in text messages the night before, and get a brief text out to John, but we did not have internet for more than a moment at a time, every half-hour or so. We had been unable to download a decent weather update. In the morning I had even less luck. I was not even able to get texts in and out.

It was still cloudy and we thought it could rain all day. Chirstina didn’t want to camp in the rain and I was worried about the road. We decided to head home.

I was ready to leave when the kids were still finishing up getting packed and loaded. We decided I should go ahead and get a head start. On the way in they kept having to stop and wait for me. We thought that if I went ahead, they would catch up.

I pulled out on the road, grimly humming to myself for courage. I hoped it would turn out to not be that bad after all. I thought it would be easier going out because the embankment was to my right, so I could just stay far right and hug the mountain. But the reality of a one-lane track meant that I was every bit as close to the edge on the way out as on the way in.

As I slowly and carefully eased my way around the worsening curves, I started worrying about the kids, who were nowhere to be seen. I passed the upper dam, and was once again suspended on a tiny dirt track far above the reservoir. What had seemed like a logical decision at the campsite now struck me as incredibly thoughtless. Why did I leave without them? What if something is wrong? Is their battery dead? Is there some sort of trouble? How could I have just left them there?

Of course they’re adults. They’re not even young adults, they are well into their 30’s and they’d been out there before. They’re fine, I kept telling myself, they’re fine. They were just driving nice and slow on the way out.

But I continued to berate myself. I should have waited for them. What if something was wrong? What if they lost traction in the damp sand and slid off the narrow track into the water below? Where were they?!? I considered stopping midway to wait, but it wouldn’t do anyone any good for me to just be sitting there in middle of the road, blocking the road. And I didn’t have enough room to turn around and go back. So I continued on.

It took me an hour and a half to make it out to the paved road. At that point, there still wasn’t any cell reception. I again considered waiting for the kids, but did not see how that would help any. I also considered going back in. But what if I encountered them heading out, as I headed in? What good would that do? Since I couldn’t turn around, I’d have to inch past them and continue onward all the way to the campground, turn around and drive another hour and a half out again. It didn’t make sense.

But what if their car didn’t start and they couldn’t summon help? I knew their roommate had a 4-wheel drive vehicle more suited to that road than my van, so I thought about borrowing it to go back in to look for them if the kids failed to appear.

Once I got far enough out to have cell tower, I sent a quick message – “Text me when you can, I’m worried.” I tried hard not to imagine they were at the bottom of the reservoir. Surely there was a more mundane reason for their delay.

When I got to their house, their roommate was away and the house was locked. The gate to the backyard was unlocked so I got Biska and I situated there. After unloading a few things from the van into the backyard, I checked my phone and saw two missed calls, one minute apart, both with the caller ID of “IDAHO STATE GOV”.

My heart nearly stopped. My kids were missing on a death-trap of a road, and the state was calling me. That can’t be good. In fact, that was very, very bad. I stopped breathing. I could barely make my hands function to hit the buttons to listen to the voicemail.

It was Chirstina’s voice, saying something about a tire. I couldn’t process what she was saying, but she sounded calm, so at least no one was dead. I called the number and someone went to find Callan and Chirstina so I could talk to them.

Turns out they had discovered a large screw embedded in their tire.

Plus, look at that tire. It’s as bald as shit. They were on the worst road in Idaho on tires like that?

They couldn’t change the tire at the campground because their spare tire was flat and they had no jack. And no cell phone reception to call for help. The tire was still holding air, so after some deliberation, they decided to go ahead and drive off the mountain, but they took it extra slowly going down. They stopped to call AAA as soon as they reached the state park marina, which had a land line.

Now they have a couple of new tires and all is well. But we were all completely stressed out for the rest of the day. I emailed Steven and said, “Agh! I had no idea how scary that road to that campground is! I followed them out there in my van and thought I was going to die! Then we got rained out. Everything is ok now and I guess I have a good story for my blog.” And he replied, “I tried to warn you about the road…”

The next day, when the relief of being NOT DEAD wore off, I was actually disappointed that we didn’t get a chance to enjoy the camping trip. I do really love camping. But that was certainly the worse road I’ve ever been on.

To send Kristina a comment, email turning51bykristina@gmail.com.

Kristina’s Website: Life Coaching for Adults with Autism

A bit too much adventure

Off to Boise I go! Way back on Valentines Day in 2020, when John and I had flown to Boston and were anxiously trying to get me scheduled for colon cancer surgery, John gave me a hand-drawn card that said it was good for a trip to a cabin in the woods.

I put the card on my nightstand and spent a lot of time after my surgery looking at it. Would I live to go on our promised cabin trip someday, or would cancer and the pandemic prove to be the end of me? The card was both encouraging and comforting.

A rough recovery and a pandemic later, we decided it was finally time to go to that cabin in the woods. I found a fantastic looking cabin on Airbnb in northern Idaho, and booked it for our upcoming 15th wedding anniversary. Here’s the amazing advertisement photo…we shall see if it lives up to its promise!

The plan was for Biska and I to drive up to see the kids in Boise. We planned to hang out and go camping for a few days. Then John would fly in and we would spend the second week in northern Idaho.

The last time I drove by myself to Boise in the van, Biska was a not-yet-potty-trained puppy, and it was an emergency trip to help get rid of the crazy roommates before they did any more damage. I took the slow way, sticking to major freeways, and it took me two and a half days. But the short route, due north through rural Nevada on country highways, takes 16 hours, according to google. I figured if I went that way I could do it in two days. When I’m driving by myself, I estimate an extra hour for every 8 hours. So that’s two 9-hour days.

When I’m traveling alone with Biska in the van, I actually find it easier to camp rather than stay in a hotel. I reserved a spot in a nice campground just off the road in the mountains on the way up. I packed the van for everything we’d need, including John’s fishing gear, so he didn’t have to take it on the airplane.

I left right on time, 7:30 AM and made it all of 2 blocks before our first glitch. I heard a thunk, and the next thing I knew, Biska was in my lap, trembling and cowering. I pulled to the side of the road (still walking distance from home), and looked over – a huge and heavy piece of wood, which is part of our van bed, had come loose and had fallen when I took the first left turn of the trip.

I didn’t know if it had actually hit her. I hadn’t noticed if she had been on the passenger seat or in her bed on the floor between the seats. Was she hurt and in pain, or just scared out of her wits? With a dog, it’s hard to tell. I checked her over and decided it was safe to continue onward.

The next 12 hours are just a muddle in my mind of road construction, cars about running into each other, strong cross winds, gas stations that are difficult to maneuver in a large van, and increasing exhaustion. I felt like I was stopping for breaks all the time, yet somehow I failed to regularly eat.

I remember one time when I stopped for a break I noticed to my consternation that my heart was absolutely pounding. I wasn’t exactly sure why. Yes, traffic had been difficult, but was I really that stressed out?

I remember another time I was so turned around at a weird and complicated intersection of highways that I just followed the truck in front of me and figured I could get oriented later and backtrack if needed. But even with a truck to follow, it seemed we were going the wrong way on a one-way AND across a highway with no sight distance AND suddenly we came across a recent car accident in the middle of it all. I just hung on and followed the truck and hoped for the best.

Another time, in the middle of an unusually narrow and curvy stretch of freeway, in middle of road construction, a car was broken down and they were trying to work on the car – and it wasn’t fully pulled out of the right hand lane! There was very little sight distance around the curve. Suddenly there was a stopped car and people on the freeway! Cars in the right lane were abruptly swerving into the left lane, and the cars in the left lane could not swerve into the median to make room for them because it was construction area with cement barriers on the left line.

From the left lane I saw a huge semi truck trying to stop behind them (and we had all been at freeway speeds instants before). It looked like he was going to plow right into them; it was either that or change lanes and take me out instead. If I were him, I would take out a camper van sooner than hit a pedestrian. I think he managed to get stopped. He was decelerating at a wonky angle – either he deliberately angled himself to protect them with his truck or he was sliding out of control as he came to a stop. I kept on going – there was really no other option. I hope it all worked out!?

The highlight of our day was this amazing dog park at Love’s Truck Stop.

While there I noticed the longest trailer I’ve ever seen.

Actually once I saw a wind turbine being transported. That might have been longer, I’m not sure. But meanwhile, that dog park, isn’t it amazing? There’s two sections, one for little dogs and one for big dogs. With real grass!

Finally at 7:00 that night, I pulled into our campsite. It was a beautiful campground, but unfortunately I didn’t remember to take any pictures. It was near-dark and I was so trashed I felt like a zombie. I tried to call John to let him know that I arrived and I was barely coherent. I remember wondering at what point adventures become too adventurous? I mean, there has to be some difficulty involved or we’d call it a walk in the park, not an adventure. Right? But there’s also a point at which it isn’t an adventure anymore, it’s just an ordeal.

I never did figure out why it took me 11 1/2 hours to go halfway to Boise. The drive the next day went far easier, and I happily arrived at the kid’s house at a reasonable time in the afternoon.

Their neighborhood is old and gentrifying. Callan and Chirstina have a nice newer house, with two master suites upstairs plus a main floor bedroom and bathroom, for a total of 3 bedrooms and 3 bathrooms. Callan’s is one of four new houses that were built on what was originally a single lot. You can see in the photo below an example a small, old house on a large lot, like the one that was torn down to make room for Callan’s and the other houses. This photo was taken standing in their yard and looking across the street.

I unloaded the van and got myself situated in the front master bedroom they generously vacated for me. They have a roommate (a very good one this time) in the downstairs bedroom. Their upstairs office is also an ensuite, and they figured it was easier to move themselves into their office suite than move their computers into their bedroom. It’s very nice to have two rooms upstairs, each with an ensuite bath. I really enjoyed having my own bathroom in my room.

Callan and Chirstina’s main hobby is playing computer games together. They play thoughtful, collaborative games of strategy. It’s sort of cool how they work together to figure out the strategy for the game plots.

I had scheduled as many life coaching clients as possible for that next day, because it was the only day I planned to work that week. Chirstina went to the trouble of putting pictures on the wall behind a folding desk, so I would have somewhere I could zoom with a professional-looking background. These are pictures she painted herself. I particularly like the green one.

I was relieved to be safely there and settled in. Little did I know, I was in for much more adventure before my trip was over. More about that next post.

To send Kristina a comment, email turning51bykristina@gmail.com.

Kristina’s Website: Life Coaching for Adults with Autism