The beginning of September was a large blurry blotch on our calendar, and had been for some time.  We had reservations for the end of September in California and several more after that, but the few weeks in between there and Grand Teton was our first experiment in playing by ear.  Making it a bit more complex was a 3-day work trip I had to do after Labor Day and a few days of Navy duty Tacco had to knock out back in DC / Annapolis after that.  “Nail down accommodation for Labor Day weekend” had been staring at me sternly from my electronic to-do list for about a month now, which portended campsite-lessness given that it was a few days away.

One of the things I’ve found in trying to plan for where we stay, and I’ve likely already hit on this, but weekends fill fast, even when it’s not high season.  Though I’m beginning to realize that first-come-first-serve campgrounds will likely net us a place to stay just about any time as long we don’t arrive on a Saturday afternoon, I’m still not comfortable with arriving in a place after a 6 hour drive and only then starting the where-do-we-stay dance (most RVers probably feel this way, hence the FCFS availability).

Several areas had been competing for our attention, all of which we very much wanted to visit: Bend, OR; Hood River / White Salmon, OR (and Portland by extension); and Park City, UT.  All three, incidentally, are on our short list of possible end points.  Complicating things were the previously mentioned wildfires, though.  I mentioned the fires that made Bozeman smoky, well a short internet search revealed that essentially the entire Pacific Northwest was on fire, or at least covered in smoke.  Dozens of fires, and hazy, smoky skies in the forecast everywhere.

Reasoning that the Columbia River Gorge would have a steady wind that wouldn’t allow any smoke to accumulate, I focused on Hood River.  Nope!  Turned out half of the Gorge was on fire as well, I-84 was closed for much of its length there, and the campground we had focused on was temporarily closed as well.  So Utah it was.  Park City had the added bonus of Tacco’s parents being there visiting a friend for the week.  Plus we have quite a few friends and family in and near PC.   So I booked us a spot for a couple days at Jordanelle Reservoir, which looks at Deer Valley from the less skied east side and off we went.  Nothing available for Labor Day weekend by the way; we booked the days around Saturday and Sunday and prepped our “how would you feel about our parking in your driveway?” pitch.

Another gorgeous drive from Grand Teton south.  We stopped in Jackson for lunch.  This is probably unfair to say given how short a time we spent there, but here goes… Jackson is a very cool place in a great setting with respect to skiing, National Parks, etc.  Lots of antlers.  Yet I have to say that taking cost of living / housing, proximity to major airports, etc into play, Park City would take Jackson hands-down in a cage match, or at least our family’s cage match.  Not even close really.  I did still buy a T-shirt there though.

We arrived in Park City to find it significantly more developed than when we’d lived here 15 years previous.  Our little condo complex by the outlet mall and not much else is now at the edge of a major commercial and residential area that appears to be booming.  To be fair, I had been back several times since then as I try to do a yearly ski trip there with a bunch of guys from my Navy days, so I knew about all the development, but even since I had been last the expansion had blown up.  Maybe we sold our condo there too soon!

The camp site at Jordanelle is nice, with playgrounds, bike trails, fishing, boating, and laundry (!).  Plan is to stay a few days, then revisit the trek to Oregon & see how we can shoehorn our work commitments into that.  Happy Labor Day!

It was yet another stunning Tetons day – brilliant blue sky punctuated by a few puffy cumulus over the highest peaks, 80 degrees and dry. I’d been looking forward to a chance to float a river with the family since well before we started the trip, and the previous day’s play session on String Lake had worked some of the kinks out with respect to inflating, using, and re-packing our kayaks.

I’d spent quite some time planning what stretch of river we’d float as our requirements were pretty narrow… Tacco and I would be going tandem with a girl each, and Keeper would go solo.  Some current but not too much, very little actual paddling required, a couple gentle rapids, good scenery, an easy put-in and take-out… and I’d found it.  It was to be a 10 mile stretch of the Snake that cut through the heart of the National Park.  Of course there was also the logistical issue – several ways to skin that cat, but the friendly ranger at the Visitors’ Center had assured me that I’d get picked up hitchhiking within about 5 minutes (or at least, she always had), so I decided I’d unload everyone / everything at the put-in, inflate the kayaks, then drive down the road to the take-out by myself, leave the car there, and hitchhike back to them, at which point fun would commence.

And commence it did.  The entire evolution went like clockwork, I was picked up and dropped off by a carful of cheerful college women doing one last summer outing before heading back up to MSU, and we got on the river just after a picnic lunch on the beach.

The water was crystal clear and just cool enough for the occasional dip to cool us off, and we saw trout darting beneath us over the entire route.  We saw otters, ospreys, even a moose or two on the side of the river.  Keeper took to his kayak as if he’d been paddling rivers his whole life, and couldn’t contain his excitement for the next rapid, and afterwards, the next float.  The girls were equally enthusiastic and said they wanted to do something like this everywhere we go.  All three kids informed me that they had inherited my love of rivers, and that this experience would make them more confident, independent, and high functioning adults.

THAT WAS THE STORY I REALLY, REALLY WANTED TO WRITE. 

HERE IS THE REAL ONE.

We awoke to an overcast day.  Though there was no rain in the forecast, the skies to the West over the Tetons were a bit ominous.  We were a little sluggish in the camp that morning, so didn’t really get moving until after we had planned, but we weren’t really on a timetable, so figured we’d catch lunch (and a few minutes of cell phone coverage) in Colter Village, I’d talk to the rangers one last time, and we’d head out.

The rangers were my first buzzkill.  Which isn’t to say that anything they said to me was incorrect or unhelpful, it just wasn’t exactly what I wanted to hear.  First they told me that I’d be required to buy permits for the float.  I’d read that inflatables under 10’ were exempt, but apparently I’d read that incorrectly.  OK, no problem.  Then they informed me that I’d need to get all my boats inspected for invasive creatures (i.e. mussels).  Yet another thing I thought I’d been exempt from, and what seemed like a massive time-suck – finding an inspection station, pulling all of the inflatables out of their bags, inflating them, deflating them, re-packing them… and for what?  I’d had them on exactly two bodies of water – our pool and String Lake the day prior.  Hard to imagine I’d have picked up mussels in either of those places.  Plus that exemption I’d read about.  When I asked about it they explained that I was exempt from getting the sticker for the inspection, not the actual inspection.  Wait, huh??  So I should get the inspection but no proof that I’d had it done?

The two rangers had begun to assume good cop / bad cop personas, at least slightly, over the course of our conversation, and the bad cop was clearly taking offense at my line of questioning, so I let it go and told them I’d “get an inspection.”  (after she stepped out, the good cop let me know that if she were me, she’d just go float, given that we’d not had the kayaks elsewhere)  Thirdly, when I told them my plans, they shook their heads and tut-tutted at me.  “That’s a bit much.”  Yeah?  “Yes.  For a family?  Yes.  Lots of braided channels, lots of ways to get stuck in a section of river with protruding obstructions, etc.  You want no part of that with a 5 and 8 year old.”  Really?  I’m pretty good at this. [actually I’m not – I’ve only done guided trips in the past] “Really.” Well shoot.  So I took their recommendation and opted for the 3 mile stretch with no rapids instead.  I was told there might be some paddling, but it shouldn’t be too much as long as there wasn’t a headwind.  And they were right of course, but already this float was deviating uncomfortably from the vision I’d concocted.

Permits purchased, family re-grouped, we headed to the Jackson Lake Dam and the put-in.  Skies were looking ever more ominous, but Keeper chimed in with “who cares if we get wet on a river?” That’s my boy.  Though it wasn’t exactly warm out, nor was the water.  Never mind though, we inflated all the kayaks, packed the snacks and I left the family behind to find the take-out, which was easy enough.

Shoot, that’s gotta be rain out there over the mountains, headed our way, isn’t it?  Nah, don’t look at it, we’re fine.

But then I had to hitchhike.  I’ve never hitchhiked.  It was awkward.

Where do I stand?  Do I look them in the eye pleadingly or pretend I can’t be bothered?  Arm straight out with thumb up or more of a sideways thing?  Would tooling around on my phone make me look less creepy (“hey, he’s solid enough to have a phone at least, I say we take him anywhere he wants to go”)?  Should I stay near the parking lot or walk down the road?  Many, many questions, and I’d thought of none of them until I was In It.

Ten minutes in, I realized that I was facing the wrong way; doing it with my back to the people I was hoping to catch a ride from was an almost guaranteed show-stopper.  I could’ve turned around and displayed a hideous monster-face once they stopped.  Maybe I had an axe in the other hand.   So I turned around to face my potential ride-givers.  It felt weird in a way that’s hard to describe to not know how to hitchhike.  Twenty minutes and several dozen tearing-past-me cars into it, and I started mulling over the idea that a young, attractive female ranger (“I get picked up within 5 minutes any time I hitchhike”) might have better luck than a solo middle-aged dude with a questionable hat.  At thirty minutes I texted Tacco (fortunately I had one bar of signal, as did she), only to find that it had started to rain and they were huddled under one of the kayaks, though she assured me it was “all good.”  It didn’t seem all good, and I’d gotten not as much as a friendly look from passers-by.  I’m a truly crappy hitchhiker.

So between my lack of thumbing skill and the rain, I opted to admit defeat and return to the car to pick up my stranded family.  Fortunately it had only sprinkled, so they’d made an adventure of it and hadn’t gotten too wet.

As soon as I pulled into the parking lot next to where they were squeezed together under the kayaks, however, the sky opened up.  Wind, heavy (cold) rain falling in sheets, total mayhem.  One kayak caught a gust of wind and went airborne down the river bank, sending Keeper after it (in bare feet, on semi-sharp rocks) to keep it from going solo down the Snake and never seeing us again.  The girls ran for the car and piled in to try to warm up.

I spent the next half hour collecting all the kayaks and kayaking gear in the downpour, deflating them, and wrestling them back into their carrying cases, all the while trying not to think of the mildew that was going to grow on them if I left them this way for more than a day or two.

Right about the time I’d got them more or less packed and shoe-horned with the other wet gear into the car, the rain stopped.  “Wanna try it now?  We could just float down and all hitchhike back to here instead.  We might have better luck with five of us!  Never mind that it’s pushing 4PM!”

“No, Dad.”

Shoot.  So that was our river kayaking day.  In the interest of silver linings, no one was especially dispirited and I was probably more disappointed than anyone, which I kept in check when I saw that the others were playing up the “adventure” part of it.  We’ll try again another day, on another river.  It’ll be cool.  I’m certain of it.

Although I navigated airplanes for the Navy for a while, my grasp of 2D geography and relative distances, especially in the western US, is a far cry from exceptional. For example, I still have a hard time believing the 20 minutes to get anywhere in LA doesn’t include San Diego. Anticipating we’d be journeying in Davista for a good part of the day, I was surprised to learn I had significantly overestimated the length of our trek from Yellowstone to Grand Teton National Park. The boundaries of the two are actually only nine miles apart. !!! And to think, my skills have improved.

We stayed a ways out from the center of the Park (at Headwaters Lodge RV Park), but had a space we could expand into – a very welcome change from Yellowstone’s cramped accommodations. The Clam again saw some play and we busted out our two hammocks, a first on this trip. Our goal with living in Davista is to sleep within yet find ways to sprawl into the outdoors to minimize feeling cooped up. The Clam, the outdoor cooking area, the picnic table provided at most campsites, and the hammocks have all eased our (or at least my) feelings of confinement and alleviated any (mobile) cabin fever.

Once camp was set up we made our way to the Colter Bay Visitors Center, where Firebolt and WoodSprite were insistent on getting the Junior Park Ranger Books first thing. The girls were on a mission to complete their respective Junior Ranger Programs and knocked out their requirements in one day, in just a few hours really. Fortuitously, half an hour after they had books in hand, the same Ranger who gave them their books presented a talk on birds in the Park. We learned about the tiniest birds in the park (the calliope hummingbird, recognizable by the magenta patch at its throat) to the largest (the trumpeter swan, who mates for life). Although he didn’t appear to want to pay attention, Keeper, too, offered answers to the Ranger’s questions throughout her talk.

Keeper was having a tough go. Lack of connectivity has been tricky for us in trying to sell the house as we had a very interested potential buyer who was threatening an imminent offer (more on that later). This certainly posed challenges for Flight and me, however, being cut off from his friends back in Maryland was extremely demoralizing for Keeper. Of the three kids, he is the one who has most expressed his dissatisfaction with the whole notion of departing Maryland and his friend network. The main reason we had purchased him an iPhone prior to this adventure was so that he could text and Facetime to his heart’s content so as to maintain his friendships while on walk about. He had been cut off for almost a week, save occasionally driving through haphazard snippets of 4G comms in the Yellowstone, which is an eternity in the world of a 6^th grader. We made it a point to get lunch at a GTNP café that boasted Wi-Fi and allowed him some space to catch up with his friends.

Not unlike Yellowstone, anywhere we wanted to explore involved a commitment to a car ride, during which the kids were constantly bickering and whining at each other, much to our dismay. After doing such mini road trips first in Yellowstone and again in the Grand Tetons environs, Flight and I expressed our deep gratitude for having chosen a Class A motorhome instead of a 5^th Wheel, which would have necessitated all five of us in the tiny cab of an enormous truck for all of our transit time. I can think of no more grating self-inflicted hell – unless we then stayed only on Montana’s washboard back country roads.

Our first day on the other side of the Tetons ended with a family “mountain bike” ride around the campsite. In truth it was just a scenic outing along a hiking trail, hardly technical, but it was the first WoodSprite had managed. At one point, she (in her own words) “ate it” but dusted herself off and continued the ride. Pretty awesome for someone who is still averse to using her actual brakes and, when faced with coming down any hill, will use Fred Flintstone methods to slow herself to a manageable speed.

The next day we went to String Lake and (most of us) kayaked. We have four very different inflatable kayaks that we carry with us in Davista’s belly so we can explore any waterways we encounter: two two-person kayaks (one specifically made for fishing and one just for tooling around) and two one-person kayaks (a sporty one made for whitewater kayaking and another also highly maneuverable one).   Shamefully, this was the inaugural paddle for our trip, and so, understandably, we were all eager to get on the water.

The elevation of String Lake (6870’ – !!!!) made inflating the kayaks rather taxing, especially for Flight because he was mostly flying solo with that. As I had never participated in their inflation, I was on “running young ladies to the port-a-potty” duty to change into swimsuits and tend to other necessities, and never in one fell swoop it seemed. Keeper had enthusiastically jumped in to assist Flight and immediately blew out one of the pumps. After swapping pumps to further inflate his kayak, we learned that Keeper’s FireFly (highly maneuverable single) had a hole along one of the seams, one that needed a patch and 24 hours of curing time. Bummer.

Often our children impress me with their compassion, wisdom, and wit (maybe not while in all riding in the backseat of the Suburu), but I’m always blown away when they demonstrate the true meaning of team player. When Keeper learned we were down to kayak seating for four, he said, “That’s okay – while you paddle, I will swim!” and swim he did. Although some of his “swimming” involved barnacle operations dragging off of either kayak, he did so joyfully and made it all the way to the other side of the lake. Flight told him he’d trade out on the way back. I’m hoping Keeper will offer his own summary of the experience.

On the far side of the lake, we made landfall amidst downed trees in the water, using one as a dock of sorts. Keeper was already on the log and the girls had disembarked and were making their way up the bank when we heard, “pshshshshshshsssshssssssh.” Crap. That’s really not a sound you want to hear in an inflatable kayak. Looking down for the offending weapon, I saw a pointy, broken off branch poking out just above the water’s surface. I put my hand down and felt where air was gushing out of my ride, a few inches above the waterline. Crappity crap crap crap. Now we were down to one kayak and seating for two.

Ever the pilot, Flight immediately assessed the situation and was working through his emergency procedures decision tree to come up with the best solution to our predicament. I asked Flight where the patch kit was – I knew we had one as I’d just seen him use it. “In the car.”   Well, shoot. I wasn’t sure how much help that might have been anyway, having just learned a full cure requires 24 hours out of the water (I have since learned that would have been fine temporarily to get us back across the lake. Noted.).

Ever the Girl Scout, I mentally reviewed our stores. Four cans of LaCroix, almonds, half a canteen of water, a few iPhones and car keys (all in dry-bags), and our “Go Bag” (contains a basic first aid kid, acupuncture needles (because ya never know…), homemade lip balm, homemade “Bug Off,” hand sanitizer, and antibacterial wipes) that goes everywhere with us. If only we had a holocaust cloak… No such cloak, but we did have waterproof Nexcare bandages as part of our “Go Bag.” When I volunteered one, Flight said, “Give it a shot. I’m not sure it’ll hold, but maybe it’ll slow down the leak.” I dried the site as best I could and placed the bandage squarely over the hole. Pssshsshsshhsshh – and silence. Leak secured or better yet – wait for it – Band-aid applied to that problem. HA! Woo HOO!

We rallied the girls who were busy being pioneer women exploring their new homestead. They were sorely disappointed to have their playtime cut short, but we had no idea how long our innovative use of the wound-care bandage might hold. Flight had Keeper kayak back with Firebolt, who was keen to get out of the kayak with me – apparently I dripped too much water on her while she wasn’t paddling. WoodSprite and I paddled back while Flight happily swam back. Every dozen yards or so, I’d look back and check in, “All okay?” “Yep, just trying out all the different survival strokes.” He totally rocks.

Hot-wash of first kayaking adventure yielded the following lessons learned: 1) much as they’d probably disagree, the girls don’t NEED paddles and their having them is probably more detrimental than helpful in forward propulsion; 2) always ALWAYS bring the patch kit, or at least Nexcare bandages; 3) LaCroix is no substitute for just plain water and we should bring more of the latter and probably none of the former; 4) children get over their disinterest in raw almonds once all the more interesting snacks have disappeared; and 5) ensure “Go Bag” is replenished and always well-stocked with Nexcare products for their versatile use is limited only by one’s imagination. As Flight said, it was a really good thing we had this trial day on the water before we tried to float the Snake River.

Which brings us to the next day…

We got an offer on the house, although it was for significantly less than we’d hoped. We went back to the same café for lunch (and cell phone coverage) and contacted our realtor and came back with a counter-offer, well two counter-offers really. We split the take home difference for us with their initial offer: 1) we came down in our asking price, but offered to pay the closing costs up to 3% (as they had requested with their original offer) or 2) they pay a lesser amount, but without any help with the closing costs. Either option was roughly the same amount to us. Our realtor agreed to pass that along to theirs to see if we could come to an accord.

Holy crap, it’s really happening. We’re going to travel back to Maryland, pack out our trash, store it who knows where, and have nowhere to call home in the event this whole deployment thing goes south. Much of the early afternoon was fraught with evaluating “what if” scenarios (and laundry), sorting out how we might get the kids to Flight’s parents’ house in the Bay area, leave Davista there too, while Flight and I would fly back to pack out the house in Davidsonville. Throw in the mix an upcoming work trip for Flight, a Navy Reserve weekend back in DC for me, and Flight’s folks being out of town for two weeks in September. Needless to say, our minds were spinning as we did our best to plan for every contingency and iron out where we’d be for the next few weeks to optimize our flexibility for what may or may not be coming down the pike.

Originally, we were planning to go to Park City (also on the short list of where we might end up) from Grand Teton National Park, but only for a couple of days. We learned that my parents were going to be in Salt Lake City for a week beginning just before Labor Day, our own accommodations for which we had yet to nail down. Surprising us not at all, most places were already booked up for the holiday weekend.  We were able to get in at Jordanelle State Park for Thursday and Friday night, but they were totally booked for Saturday and Sunday night. Considering we just barely (HA – that’s a ridiculous Utah saying that makes me crazy, using barely incorrectly as a temporal reference) made this change of plans, we’ll have to sort accommodations out upon arrival.   Since we recently (proper use of the proper word) stayed in the parking lot at Grand Targee Ski Resort, we might be able to do the same at one of the resorts in Park City. If not, there’s always the Walmart Parking Lot…

After this whirlwind of mental gymnastics, it was about 3ish in the afternoon we got to the put in location on the Snake River. We (it was we this time) inflated the kayaks, and Flight took off to park the car at the take out location. Our game plan was to have him hitch a ride from the car to us and then we’d get on the river. However, as Flight noted, apparently it’s 2017 and enough people have seen any number of movie versions of “The Hitch-Hiker”, which means few drivers will actually pick people up, especially “a middle age dude in a weird hat.” His words, not mine.

Fortunately, we had a rare cone of connectivity for both of us. While Flight was lamenting not bringing one of the girls to increase the awwwwwww fer cute/sympathy factor to maybe generate a ride, I could update him on breaking weather conditions. Now I barely (correct use of the word, as it was not last week and I did almost fail) passed my meteorology class in Flight School, but even I can recognize a rainstorm gathering energy. Just days ago we had discussed virga with the kids, but that quaint sublimation was not what was inbound. I texted Flight that the sky was about to open and dump (official meteorological term) as I was watching the storm stalk us across the valley. And then it was upon us. I gave Flight further updates from under one of the upside down two-person kayaks.   The kids were troopers, actually they thought it was great fun to be sheltering under a kayak. Flight called our training evolution complete, mission aborted, returned to the car and drove back to us. He trundled us all into the car so we could warm up while he deflated and packed up our non-float flotilla solo and in the driving rain. I offered to assist and he declined. Like I said, he totally rocks.

Back at our campsite and in a fresh change of clothes, we packed up most of our gear after the rain passed and got ready to head to Park City in the morning. Owing to its proximity to a major airport (facilitating our respective upcoming commutes east) and lots of family (I think that between Flight and me, we are related to half of the Salt Lake Valley), we made the call to stay in Park City longer than everywhere else we’d been so far.

I left Grand Teton National Park feeling as thought we hadn’t really seen much of it.   When I voiced this observation to Flight, he said, “Most of what you really should see involves backcountry hiking and camping.” Ah, okay, so that’s not exactly in line with our current SOP.  I’m guessing Grand Teton National Park is one for us to further explore when our kids are much older and need no carrying to get up mountains.

Onward to Park City…