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We have been in the Bakkan Oil Fields for two months now.I will always be able to come back here and recognize and remember. I will send Christmas cards to the sweet old couple we had Sunday bbq with. I will Facebook that shy Mama that chased her two year old around the park with me and is due to have a baby in another month. I will be able to see his pictures, and notice how he looks like his brother.
That being said, North Dakota is NO Salmon River Canyon! So last week, at the end of his "hitch," when Travis came home at 7AM off of night shift and announced that we were leaving to Riggins in 45 minutes, we were ecstatic! I have never had a camping cooler that looked that weird. I took, like, 3 lbs of cheese, half a jar of spaghetti sauce (?), kalamata olives, pepperoni, bacon, lettuce, tomatoes, and carrots. I didn't even pack a pan to cook in. I knew in my heart that I would boycott that job as soon as we hit the road. "Here's some almonds! Eat an orange!" I was throwing PBJ at those kids like it was my job...and it was. As Travis always says, "Anything we forget, we can live without!" He's right.
So we drove for 16 hours. The longest break was probably 30 minutes. With three little girls, that is a new record. And, man, do they travel well. (I wonder why!?) We rolled into the canyon at midnight. The breeze was cool and sweet. My skin was so relieved to be away from that muggy, oppressive, sticky Midwest heat.
We hit the beach the next day and didn't leave until Hot Summer Nights, on Friday. I love Short's Bar. It's the closest beach to town and anybody who is anybody goes there. I went through a time where I didn't appreciate it. In between high school and kids, we avoided it like the plague. We went to twin beaches, 15 miles up, or didn't go at all. But, the ease of access and all of the little kids and dogs and yelling and...well, it's just perfect now.
The first morning that I woke up on that beautiful River, I just raised my arms above my head and said, "I'm home!" There is nothing like a sunny morning on the Salmon. (It will forever make me feel like I am 18 and that will be very valuable in the next...oh, 40 years.) Everyone was still passed out in the tent and I stumbled around cleaning up the explosion of the night before. Slowly, the kids made it out of the tent one by one. I dug around in a sand and dog hair covered bag, dragging out cereal and spoons, wiping faces and digging out sweatshirts and flip flops from the depths of the truck. We layed on the beach for three days!
The night in the park came right on time. The beach would've eaten us alive in one more hour. The cooler had been emptied and the sunscreen was wearing thin. Time to hit the town! Hair brush and wet wipes. When I walked into the middle of all of my friends and family and acquaintances, it was like loving arms and a sugared up toddler all rolled into one. I can never spend long enough visiting with one person, in that kind of crowd, without having to run off and hug another one! You know the feeling. I always leave going, "Where did he say he was working? How old did she say her son is now?" It's chaotic and that's why I love it.
We watched the talent show and ate park food and took turns running the baby to the bathroom, constantly asking one another, "Where's Charlee?" She'd bounce in and bounce back out. (I don't know where she gets it!)
The morning after the park shindig, we loaded up all the gear, AGAIN, and headed to the Meridian Speedway with the other Hollons, to watch little brother/cousin in the stock car races! Now, I have never been to the races before. I know. Embarrassing, isn't it? Well, I have to be honest, I'm not naturally drawn to the sound of loud engines and the smell of methanol in the morning. I am not an adrenaline junkie. And still, I must say, EVERYBODY, ought go to the races at least once in their lives. Stepping out of my comfort zone into a world of tattoos and buckets of beer, large amounts of screaming people, fast cars, laughter and smiles...it was quite exhilarating!
It's much more fun if you know the darling dude in the yellow car though. Brother Cade did SO good! They all just kept saying, "He's a natural, that number 18!" And he is. He won his heat and placed 5th in the finals, out of 30! It was only his third race. They start the fastest cars in the back. I am the only one that didn't know that.
We camped out right in the back of the parking lot on a little patch of grass. Technically, the grass was part of a neighboring school's back yard, but we figured no body would mind. Our karma was rewarded at midnight when the sprinklers came on! And, then when they came on again. Thank God for a big tarp and a smart husband. Instead of putting the tarp on the tent, like I would've done, Travis threw it on the sprinkler head! Brilliant. We were dry as a bone.
The plan on Sunday morning unfolded itself like a new flower. Instead of busting through on the freeway until we all begged for a rest stop at the wee hours of the next morning, why be in a hurry? Travis looked over the map and planned us a route through the western side of Yellowstone National Park.
I hadn't ever been there. What a cool place! But, there were no campgrounds available, duh, and Kenny Walters has bigger elk than that! So, we took some photos and did the fast forward version of the tour, promising ourselves that we would come back on the way home and next time make reservations. And, we will.
We fell asleep that night in a campground out of Gardner MT, after roasting, yet another cheddarwurst on a 7$ fire. Life is good. The ground was taking it's toll on my 34 year old hips that night. No giving sand, no foam mattress, and bumps in all the wrong places. But we all slept and were glad that we hadn't been renegades on the side of the road where all of the little signs show tents with red slashes through them. Been there, done that.
"Sorry, officer, but we got tired, and I don't care about your sign right now. You hold the baby and tell her she has no bed, if you are that hard core. Yeah, I didn't think so. We'll be gone in the morning and I promise we won't leave any toilet paper in the bushes. Big rocks and little shovels, brother, I know the routine."
The next morning's breakfast was Rainier cherries, yogurt, and PBJ for the kids. Starbucks in a bottle for us. The girls played "jump on the stump," while Dad and Mom cleaned and packed and repacked and cleaned again. Wet wipes were handed out along with hand sanitizer and we hit the road. By now we were on the countdown to the work week. This was our Sunday. We had planned on being home by now, but what fun is it if you don't push it to the last minute?
I told Travis that the only thing we hadn't done was watch the last Harry Potter movie. The girls and I read the entire seven book series in four months! J.K. Rowling is the best author I have ever read. I was not a Harry Potter geek before reading the books, and the movies aren't half as good. But, none the less, the last movie had come out in theatres only two weeks after we finished the series, and on Charlee Beth's full moon birthday, no less. It was a sign. I figured I would take the girls on our next week off. Again, our trip unfolded itself.
We got to Sydney, MT and needed a break. The baby was muttering something about missing her home in "Norse Datota" and the big girls were slapping each other across her car seat, giggling like loony bin residents. It was time to get out of the truck. We stopped at a laundry mat to check and see if they had "greasers." Now if you have worked in the Oil Field, you will know that this means, washing machines in which you are allowed to wash your nasty oily coveralls and gloves, also referred to as "greasers." They did and we did. But before we unloaded the crazy kids from the backseat, I spotted a theatre. And guess what was playing? Harry Potter, Deathly Hallows, Part two!
The show started at 7:30 and we figured, what better way to end the trip than stretching it out another couple of hours. We had 45 minutes to kill. So the big kids ran around chasing each other and climbing a fence. I lifted the 2 yr old into the bed of the pick up with me, where I was rooting around in the cooler for an ice cold beverage, and she pulled out the camp dishes. She played tea set while I fitted my drink in my coolie. I wish I had a camera that took pictures by itself.
When it was time for the movie, the big girls and I tore off down the street like uncaged animals laughing and running and telling jokes. New, big city theatres have nothing on the old ones that should be torn down and condemned. This place smelled strongly of dog fur, 70's carpet, and stale popcorn. But, the kids didn't mind. They each had their "own" money for candy.
We loaded up on the goods and made it just in time to sit there and wonder if we should go find the bathroom again, or if we should go back and get more candy.
The show was big and loud and we didn't get scared of the bad guy because we had already read the ending. We knew just what was going to happen when it did. When it was over we took another trip to their bathroom, that I hope I never have to use again, and met Daddy and a sleepy 2 yr old, parked out in the street. Night had fallen by now and the "time to get home" feeling had set in.
We were camper bound at mock speed. The lights of Arnegard looked rather sweet. We got the baby tucked into her bed, that she was, by now, fussing and fuming for. The truck was unloaded in a heap in the back room and I made a lunch for the working man. The "weekend" was officially ended. It was midnight by the time I hit my pillow.
I breathed a sigh of contentment. There was no way, humanly possible, that we could have shoved more into that vacation and I relished every minute of it.
I loved seeing old, familiar faces and looking at Grandma's garden. I loved drinking cold ones and stepping on hot sand and taking the 2 yr old to the outhouses, as she wrinkled her little nose and said, "Mama, what's that smell?" I loved seeing the biggest tie dye I've ever made, hanging behind all of my friends that stood on the Hot Summer Nights stage in front of it, singing their ruddy hearts out. I loved limping around with my friend, that also wounded herself, in our midnight staggers to the water while we cackled and tried not to wake up the sleeping kids, so they wouldn't know what fun they were missing. I love seeing my hard working husband sit in his camp chair, with his Margarita in his hand, and a smile on his beautiful vacationing face, that he didn't have to shave for a whole week. I loved the sound of those race cars and watching the little boy, that has become a man, flying around the track. I loved hugging my mama and my best friend while we hooked up the battery that I killed, while forcing Bob Marley to sing "Stir It Up" just one more time, despite my husband's warnings.
I will survive on these memories of our vacation from our vacation. I will feed off of them while we watch the North Dakota summer turn into a dewy fall. And I will be home soon. Because, going away always makes coming home that much sweeter. And as my middlest daughter said to my littlest and oldest, as they muttered longings for their beds at home, while stuffed into sandy sleeping bags with chips and smores on their breath, "We are home, you guys!" She's right. Wherever we are all laying down at night, together, snuggled between all of our giggles and love....THAT IS HOME!
