Our camping trip to Sequoia a few years ago
We just came back from four days up in Mammoth Lakes, California, where our family stayed in a cabin with my husband’s parents and his brother’s family. In a distant past life, HapaPapa and I used to live in that little Eastern Sierra ski town. But it’s a long, icy drive from the Bay Area to Mammoth in the winter, which is why most skiers come from So Cal, via the dry southern stretch of Highway 395 through the Owens Valley.
By this stage in our marrried family life, we’ve gotten the hang of how to cram the four of us — and our belongings — into a minivan, and figured out some routines that work for us. So while we were visiting our old stomping grounds
They usually include:
Bringing a bag full of car games (travel bingo, Mad Libs, can be as simple as a bunch of dollar store or new-to-you Happy Meal toys for toddlers)
A bag full of snacks in the backseat, including things that are already in single servings, such as granola bars, cheese crackers, and fruit leather
HapaPapa carries the backpack when we go on day trips. This is especially important since our kids are too big for strollers now, which means we give up that precious underseat basket. He recently upgraded to a big metal-framed hiking backpack, with exterior pockets for water bottles. I carry my purse and a camera. Neither of which anybody else touches. Otherwise it gets ugly.
When on vacation, we don’t really have bedtimes or dietary restrictions (adults or kids). Do you really want to spend your precious downtime struggling to get over-excited kids to go to bed when the adults are talking and laughing late into the night?
We try to avoid eating at fast-foods or chain restaurants if at all possible, and get a taste of the local cuisine (even if it is the Country Waffle House).
But taking a family vacation can also call attention to the ways that your own upbringing informs your idea of “vacation”. With the exception of the occasional summer in Taiwan, my childhood vacations usually involved roadtrips and lots of national parks: Yellowstone, Yosemite, the Grand Canyon. We’d stop at the visitor’s center, hike around, eat dinner at a local restaurant, and then check into the Wagon Wheel Motel, or whatever. In my mind, I called this “camping”.
I’ve already elaborated on HapaPapa’s idea of camping in my post The Great Outdoors, so you can read it there, if you like.
What are your family vacation traditions?
In your wildest dreams, what would you want your vacations to be like?