We actually started our weeklong camping trip down the Oregon Coast on the second longest day of the year, and the extra few seconds of night would be welcome; the days are long in the Pacific Northwest in the summer and sunsets late; often, the sun wouldn't dip into the ocean until past what would be 9:30 at night in other parts of the country.
We returned our rental car and picked up the camper van Saturday morning, but not before dropping Elise and Clementine off in Woodinville at Aunt Janice's baby shower; Elise's brother, Dan, and his wife, Janice, are expecting their first, a boy, later in July. Fortunately, the rental car return and Peace Van Rentals, the outfitter from whom we rented the van, were only two blocks from each other in South Seattle. Unfortunately, it was a 40 minute drive from Woodinville and another 40 minute drive back on a heavily crowded 405. Traffic -- as a whole -- was our nemesis while in Seattle, and it seemed as though we spent time trapped in it more so than we did anywhere else.
When we did arrive to pick up our home for the week, we were not disappointed.
The van came outfitted with everything we would need on our trip, including linens, sleeping bags, a two-burner propane stove, pots, pans, and dishes, and even a little refrigerator for beer (and food, of course!).
We picked up Elise and Clementine -- still fully regaliaed in their baby shower wear -- and headed south.
Our first overnight spot would be in Westport, Washington, at the LOGE surf camp.
The surf camp would be our least rustic camp site. The relatively new concept catered to a wide swath of camper. The site, likely crafted from the bones of an abandoned roadside, drive-up motel, sported traditional rooms, a hostel, full hook-up sites, and covered camp sites. We had reserved a covered campsite, and it was like pulling into a car port which was welcome when the cool mist coagulated into something more substantial.
We drove up to the site with some trepidation and no real game plan, being our first night in the van. We decided to run to a local grocery store for sundries before pulling into our site for the night and popping the pop top on the van, not a technically difficult task in and of itself, but one which did require some upper body strength; it was not unlike military pressing a large boy.
We made hamburgers in a pan on the stove. The campsites ringed a communal fire pit and stage. At six, a guitarist played live music, a few low-key covers that sounded like slowed down versions of the original, as though someone were playing a LP on the wrong speed. We started a fire (actually, Elise started the fire as she was on fire duty for most of the trip. I had a lot I wanted to prove to myself and my family on this trip, but the ability to start a camp fire was not one of them. Thankfully, Elise was more than up to the task) and the kids made s'mores for the first of many nights.
The camper van was cold at night, but we snuggled together and survived. The boys slept up top in sleeping bags in the pop-top, and Elise, Clementine, and I huddled together down below on the fold-out back bench seat. The van came with a foam pad that laid out across the folded down back bench seat making it surprisingly comfortable, except for it rose in the middle for some reason, like there was a bar we had failed to account for. Nonetheless, we slept well most nights. The van did rock whenever one of the boys rustled in their sleep which they did frequently, and I found Clementine wedged into my hip or armpit on more than one occasion, seeking warmth. Sandwiched in the middle, between, Elise and Clementine, there was no shortage of warmth to be had; it was noticeably colder against the metal walls of the van.
The next morning, of the first full day of our trip, we cooked a hearty breakfast of pancakes as large as our largest pan, a true "cake" in every sense of the word, hickory smoked, thick cut bacon, and eggs scrambled in bacon grease. Coffee was a bit of a work in progress. We didn't have a coffee maker in our house in Falls Church, so I had gotten pretty good at making French press coffee, but was having trouble getting the formula right this time around. Fortunately, LOGE has a sufficient number of hippie and hipster guests (and surfers in need of warmth after sitting in the cold Pacific swells) to support a full coffee and espresso bar -- as well as a bar at night pouring craft brews on draft behind a roll-up garage door.
After breakfast, we packed up. Curious, we went in search of the surf beach to see the ocean that attracted so many surfers to this particular stretch of the Pacific Northwest. It would be the first of many excursions to the beach...and also possibly the coldest.
Followed by peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in the van.
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