First Travels....

My traveling experience began when my parents would load all of us children (I am the youngest of four girls) into the hot, stinky Toyota van. My parents where missionary Baptist folk (Yes, I am a PK-Preacher's Kid). We would have to go to a large conference every year for the American Baptist Association (Yawn!). Why would a bunch of Canadians be going to a conference in the U.S.?

Because my family is comprised of halfies. We are half Canadian and half American. I was born and raised in Courtenay, B.C. and am Canadian thru and thru. However, I live in Tacoma, WA (more on that later).

Back to the point. Although we were never really in a rush, my dad would make us leave at 3am. Some of us were content to pile into the van with our jammies and sleep until a proper hour. Others (like me) would bounce up and down on the seats, excited for the adventures to come.

The first adventure was always taking the ferry. Because we lived on the island, we had to take a two hour ferry ride. I remember hoping that we would get the new ferries that were sleek, have video games and didn't make me seasick. But no... we always got the New Westminister, which was the oldest boat in the fleet. Ironic since new is in it's name.

On the ferry, we were given full rights to run around and act like hooligans. My parents would hide themselves and probably mentally prepare for the trip ahead. Moments of silence and mediation were non-existent for them. We are loud girls! We would always get breakfast, play some video games, flip through magazines in the gift shop (which we'd never buy), and run screaming on the deck. The wind would be so strong! I am surprised that we never floated away.

I would always sleep when we got back into the van. I was usually in a sugar coma (since we had no parental supervision and a allowance). Next came the border. It always mystified me how one little sign could say "You are in the United States".

We would always head off into a new direction. Sometimes we would drive south and then east and then north and then west. Some stops where a sure thing every trip! Like going to Carlsbad Caverns in New Mexico. We would wonder through the dark cold caves looking at stalagmites. I always liked the gift store. It would be full of native American trinkets. I would buy a dreamcatcher or some rattle snake eggs (I always fell for the tricks).

We would always go visit my grandparents in Midland, Texas. No offense, but even as a young girl, I knew that Texas was not for me. It was hot. It was flat and dusty and not really much to do. And you had to check everything for rattlers (I was interested in getting some REAL snake eggs though). Our activities there would include watching old movies that my grandma would pirate (the good ole' days of VCR and recording TV movies). She had cabinets and cabinets of black VCR tapes and sticky labels. Another favorite past-time included playing tetrius on the computer. My sister, Rachel would always have the high scores. I blame her for my poor video gaming skills. The last fun place we would go was the water park. It seemed eons away but we would always get there as it opened. I remember being so irritated when everyone dragged their heels to leave. I just wanted to get there already!

Reflecting on those long road trips, I feel fortunate to have been able to go so many places and had so many fun experiences. Some of my favorite memories comes from these adventures that we had every summer. For example, my sisters and I would trade off reading some Harlequin romance novels. We would have to be so stealth and hide it from our parents. If they knew, we would have been toast!

I have a long history of getting car sick. Crammed into a toyota mountaineer van with no AC, riding on top of luggage, did not make me feel any better. I was constantly sticking my head out the window, as my sisters watched my throw up fly by the window.

My favorite story is after going to Disneyland. My sister, Rachel (kind of my Nemesis as a child but I love her now) bought a beautiful Minnie mouse doll. She used up a good portion of her money to purchase the doll and a large sucker. She proudly displayed the mouse in front of us on the "hump" (If you've ever been in the mountaineer, you know what I am talking about). The doll had a beautiful silk kimono on. As she stared at Minnie with love filled eyes, I projectile vomit on poor Minnie and the giant lollipop. It took a long time for my sister to forgive me, although she got me back in many ways.

I feel so lucky to have gone on these trips. It made me realize what a family really means. It also opened my eyes to the different lives all contained in a country. From the rolling ranches in Montana, to a gas station in Mississippi and to the alligator road kill in Florida. These trips were the building blocks of my thirst for travelling. Unfortunately I don't have any pictures of the trip!!