The Great Roadtrip of July 2012 – Third Stop: Oregon

I’m recapping our adventures from The Great Roadtrip of July 2012! If you’re joining the story midstream, be sure to check out all the recap posts by clicking here!

From Craters of the Moon, Idaho, we headed to Oregon!

Prior to this trip, I’d never been to Oregon. In fact, the only two states on the west coast that I’d yet to add to my collection before this trip were Oregon and Washington, unless you count flying through the Seattle airport…which I don’t, really. I couldn’t wait to see the state from the ground in person!  (And, yes, we got a couple letterboxes in Oregon! Woo hoo!)

When looking at the map, I realized how geographically diverse the state of Oregon is. One day, we’ll head to the coastal regions, but for the purposes of this trip, the thick forested and rainy section of Oregon served as our route from Idaho to Washington.

Also, if you must know, my husband and I made so many jokes about the Oregon Trail (and the computer game we both played in our respective elementary schools, back in the 80s). I’m happy to announce that we made it without contracting dysentery, needing to circle the wagons, or running out of provisions. (The latter almost happened while on the road in Washington, which is a story for another day. Ha.)

On this leg of our journey, we’d reserved a campsite at the Emigrant Springs State Park. It was a really nice campsite, and there was no sign of rain at all! BONUS!

We set up camp, had dinner, and we all took showers! At this campsite the showers were included in the cost of the campsite. DOUBLE BONUS!

I love that feeling of finally being able to take a shower.  The added bonus of not having to feed quarters into the slot while not getting shampoo in your eyes made that feeling even better.

At this particular campsite, we opted to put on the rainfly. In Craters of the Moon, we didn’t need it, but this was Oregon. Surely it would rain? There was no sign of it in the sky, but we opted to err on the side of caution.  Everything doesn’t get this green and lush without a little rain.  Right, Oregon?

That night, as we were snoozing, we heard the thunder, and the rain softly fell on the tent. Oh, Oregon.

We stayed dry. Have I mentioned how much I love our tent? We didn’t panic. It’s a good tent. The rainfly will keep it all dry.

That morning, we awoke to a dry tent, dry belongings, blue skies, and raindrops on the rainfly.

We were only spending one night in this campground, so after breakfast, we were going to leisurely break camp, pack up and head to Seattle, our next destination on the agenda.

Daddy and I painstakingly dry off the rainfly with the camp-towels we brought with us. (Aren’t we smart??) We lay the rainfly out on the dry ground to finish drying before rolling it up to put in the tent bag. (Isn’t this the best idea ever??) He heads off to the showers. Claire is finishing up her breakfast.  I’m pondering the beauty of the location and how only the tops of the trees fit into an Instagram photo.

Isn’t Oregon beautiful? Oh, Oregon…

That’s when I hear the pitter patter of raindrops hitting the rainfly. The one that isn’t on the tent. The one that is lying on the ground drying. My first thought is to bundle it up and shove it in the car! It can’t get wet! We just dried it! With every splatter, my plans are foiled.

Then, I realize that the rain is falling right through the mesh of our tent! Nothing is packed into the car yet, because I thought we had time!

There is no time!

Everything is getting wet! Oh, Oregon!

Have you ever tried to put a massive rainfly on a huge tent all by yourself? It can be done. It’s not pretty, but it can be done.

By the time Daddy gets back to camp, everything is in shambles. Both sides of the rainfly are wet. Both the inside and the outside of the tent are wet. Some of our things in the tent are wet.  Some of the things outside the tent are wet. I feel like a bedraggled mess.  How could I let this happen!?  (As if I control the rain, right, Oregon?)

Then, the rain stops. The sun winks at us, and we contemplate our next move. It doesn’t look stormy. Then again, it hadn’t looked stormy while it was raining. Oh, Oregon?

Once again, I start to dry off the rainfly and evaluate the situation inside the tent. It’s not as wet as I’d thought. It’s not a disaster. Just a couple drops here and there, and they’re already drying!

In the middle of drying off the rainfly, it starts to rain again. Oh, Oregon!  Again we scramble. Approximately every 7 to 9 minutes it plays this game with us.

If we’ve learned anything from the many trips we’ve taken it’s this: Your joy is directly correlated to your standards and expectations.

You don’t think it will rain? It rains? Boo hoo. Adapt. You think it’s done raining, but you’re proven wrong? Oh well. Things are going to need to be aired out at the next place? Guess what. They’ll need to be aired out at the next stop.

Is this what it takes to ruin your day?  Really?

Granted, in the heat of the moment we all became storm clouds and zapped some lightning bolts at each other.  At one point, tiny fists were shaken at the skies. But, soon, we all started laughing out loud. “Oh, Oregon!” we’d say as raindrops fell on our heads.

We found joy in the little things.

For example, Claire saw this on the side of the building and asked us what it was. She had no idea.

So, I had her stand by it while I took her picture…with my phone.

After getting everything (relatively) dry (again) and loaded into the car, we were on our way to the next destination. As we’re zipping down the highway, this song comes on our random roadtrip playlist:

…and we all started laughing again.

Oh, Oregon!

Next stop? Seattle!  Stay tuned!