We went out on a limb this past week and treated the Black Hills of South Dakota to five days of the Clinches.
Yessir, there’s nothing like a bout with the Clinch clan to get a national park to rise to the occasion.
The planning of a camping trip is certainly no picnic. It’s a job for the diligent, the creative, and folks who are simply out of their minds.
There are reservations to be considered, meals to plan, entertainment to organize, and let’s hope that someone has taken the time to place hand sanitizers in the outhouses.
Around the Clinch abode, the job of scheduling and planning the family vacation rests squarely on my shoulders. I could dole out the tasks and hand off some of the responsibility to other constituents, but I take my job as a planner seriously, and shudder when I consider the ramifications of letting someone else handle these important tasks.
Heaven forbid they’d forget the graham crackers and we’d have to forgo the s’mores!
It took me two shopping carts to get the groceries out of Wal-Mart. There was laundry to be done, skivvies to be considered, and some family members cautioned that we ought not forget the mustard this time.
I looked to the trip with great anticipation because our very own Vernon was home for the summer, and for the first time in three years would be accompanying us on a family vacation.
I’ll say it for you, “Yay!”
Although I’m not one to honk my own horn, I must say I thought I had done a bang-up job. I had planned menus, compiled a fine set of lists, and took pride in the fact that I’d left no cot unturned.
It was 7 a.m. on that summer morning and we were slated for departure. We were exuberant, we were happy and we were sporting our best camping attire .
The thing about pulling a camper is one needs a truck to achieve it, and we all climbed into the six-seater vehicle that at one time seemed quite roomy.
Although I’d carefully considered many things regarding the vacation, I hadn’t pondered the fact that the boys might have grown an inch or two since the last time we’d all packed into that truck. Hips had become wider, calves had developed, and someone should have taken into consideration the six sizes that all eight of their feet had grown.
“Wait,” Vernon said as he looked for a spot to put his knee, “why is this so crowded?”
“Hey,” exclaimed Lawrence, “where am I supposed to store my iPod and over-sized head phones?” It was Huey who joined the group late with a pillow and electronics and peeked into what was once a spacious vehicle and said, “What is this, a clown car?”
Charlie sat in the middle between his two oldest brothers and drew an imaginary line on the seat on both sides of him: “OK, these are the boundaries for my spot!”
“OK, Corns,” Huey said with a smile as he turned in his seat and pushed his hip into Charlie’s aforementioned space.
“You see, Charlie,” said Vernon as he draped an arm over his brother’s shoulder, “however will I hug you if I can’t cross that line?”
“Mom,” the little guy then protested, “look at them! They’re taking all of my space!”
If I hadn’t been addressing my own spatial concerns, I would have been there for him in a heartbeat. But I had Lawrence’s over-sized headphones crowding the air space on my right, and my beloved spouse of many years on my left with an economysized bag of licorice. I’m pretty sure we reached our destination in less than 86.5 hours. Which in stiffknee time translates to about six months. As we pulled into our sprawling campground and took in the beauty that was truly ours to behold, Vernon opened his door, unlatched his seatbelt and fell out onto the ground.
I then picked up my right leg, dislodged my left knee from the dash and attempted to extricate my foot from the clutches of the mess on the floor.
As the truck all but gave birth to four more adult-sized passengers, a fellow camper looked on. “Hey,” he exclaimed with a chuckle, “I once saw that act in a circus — only you guys are way funnier than the clowns!” Lori Clinch is the mother of four sons and the author of the book “Are We There Yet?” You can reach her at www.loriclinch.com.