Cooperative Living July 2015 - 42

RURAL LIVING by Margo Oxendine, Contributing Columnist
of mine is this: I enjoy silence. Road
trips with girlfriends can be
fun - the driving can be shared -
but after a while, I get hoarse from
yakking, and my ears get tired of
listening.
My friend with six kids surely
longed for a little silence on her road
trip to countless state parks and
Smokey Mountains and, finally ...
Atlanta. There is nothing that could
lure me to Atlanta. If one must arrive
in Atlanta, there is every reason to
depart with dispatch.
Imagine the logistics of traveling
ROLLICKING
FAMILY
ROAD TRIPS
W
hat are some of your fondest
childhood memories?
My bet is they include the
family road-trip vacation.
Remember when the family and
more belongings than might be imagined
were packed into the station
wagon, and you hit the road?
Oh, those lazy, hazy, crazy days of
summer - remember Nat King Cole
warbling it on the car radio, while Dad
drove and Mom handed out snacks?
Here is the tale of a mom and six
kids (alas, Dad had to work) who
embarked on a marathon driving/
camping/lakeside/Big City road trip.
Ambitious? Some might call it daft.
I'll admit, " Daft " was my first thought.
I am childless. I do not like to
camp. I enjoy road trips, because I can
load in all my foibles - four pillows,
six books, cappuccino machine - and
be blissfully alone. If I feel the urge to
" camp, " well, I can find a cabin by a
lake. If I feel the urge for heated pools
and room service, they're just off the
road.
I am leery about traveling with anyone
- we all have our quirks, and one
40
with six youngsters aged 4 to 14,
three girls, three boys. Imagine the
packing lists, and the organization.
And then, imagine loading the car. In
this case, the " car " was
the only thing it
could be: A behemoth
Suburban.
Don't forget the
coolers and snacks
and lunch bags. We
all remember: Ten
miles from the driveway,
we kids were
suddenly hungry.
When my friend
emailed me a photo
of the meticulously
packed Suburban, I
wondered: Was the
spirit of my father -
the ultimate vacationpacking
organizer -
hovering over this
task?
The gang brought
family paid back the party-people when
they emerged at 6 a.m., racing to the
potty and roaring to get started cooking
breakfast. The frying pan that accommodated
a meal for seven is a cast-iron
sight to behold - taller than some of
the kids.
Imagine the curiosity our merry band
lent to the camaraderie of the campground.
Think of the tent flap opening
at dawn. One kid emerges, rubbing his
eyes. Then another. And another. And
so on. Surely, it was akin to a clown car.
Let the camping circus begin!
Along the way, there were lots of
dips in lots of lakes, lots of hamburgers
and hot dogs and chili. Lots of water
slides and sandcastle-building. Lots
of gleeful squeals. Lots of keening,
cranky whimpers.
Naturally, it wouldn't
I am certain my
friend's family
paid back the
party-people
when they
emerged at
6 a.m., racing to
the potty and
roaring to get
just one tent for the
seven of them. The
kids practiced in the
backyard for days, with a goal of setting
it up in 20 minutes.
While the tent was advertised as
started cooking
breakfast.
sleeping eight, and " only " had to
accommodate seven, it was tight
quarters. " The babies were together
in a bag, " my friend emailed. I
chuckled for days about " babies in a
bag. " It was sweltering. The campgrounds
were rife with noisy, latenight
revelers. This is not conducive
to getting six children settled snug in
their bags. I am certain my friend's
be a family road trip
without a sick child.
That happened on the
most arduous drive of
the trip - hundreds of
miles of highway, with
countless roadside stops
for quick upchucks and
frantic restroom dashes.
When one of the
babies is sick, my friend
found that all the older
kids rally 'round. Mom
explained to the kids
that the day ahead
required as much
patience as they could
muster. They rose to the
task admirably.
" We had to stop a
zillion times so he could
use the bathroom, and
we were well behind
schedule. But the older
set was incredibly kind, caring for their
brother with a great depth of empathy.
Not a single complaint or fight or selfish
word, " my exhausted friend wrote at
12:17 a.m.
Are you smiling right now? I am. In
retrospect, room service and heated
pools don't hold nearly so much potential
for excitement. n
To order Margo Oxendine's A Party of One,
email recorder@htcnet.org, or call 540-4682147
Monday-Thursday from 9-5.
Cooperative Living/July 2015
Cooperative Living July 2015

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