Going Home
It took us all forever to get completely packed, round up the children and leave. It was as if the lodge had some kind of a force field that kept us from driving away. I think I actually felt roots growing from my heels. Alyssa and Greg were the first ones out, with plenty of hugs from the Big Haired Gal (I really enjoyed her). The rest of us headed down the road to make one more stop: an ice cream parlor in the town of Graeagle. This is a tradition with the families, so we joined in. It’s a cute little place with a few booths and a waitress inside, and picnic tables and a service window outside. Most of the kids ordered ice cream, except for Marcus who ordered french fries (okay, so he’s different). The adults ordered ice cream, except for Dale who ordered chili fries (like son, like dad). After eating, we all went outside while some of the women found a clean restroom, Gary and Dale played catch with some of the kids using Gary’s Nerf football, and Jim took each child for a short ride on his Harley. When it was Marcus’ turn, the child he brought back was not my son; it was a biker dude with a smile that filled the helmet.
We made one more communal stop to get gas before splitting up; Jim and Kathy would head off to Sacramento, and Gary and Linda were off to Highway 395 to spend a night at Mammoth Lakes. It was at the gas station that the men in the group gathered around a map and discussed the fastest way to our destination. We had come up to the lodge by taking the 80 from Sacramento to the 89, heading in a northerly direction until we reached Gray Eagle. It took about two-and-a-half hours. We could have taken that way back, for two-and-a-half hours. But then we listened to Jim and Gary…
In hindsight, I should have factored two things into Jim and Gary’s assessment of The Better Route. First, Jim was riding a Harley, so his ideal route would naturally involve twisting roads. Second, Gary thought that we could get from Orange County to Truckee in five hours. So when they suggested that we (and the Lofquists) take the 49 to the 50, and showed us a map that looked like the routes were equal in distance to Sacramento, Dave and Dale believed them. Jeannie and I believed them. With lots of hugs, we said our good-byes and hit the road.
Route 49 to 50 was beautiful and easy. Then we hit Lake Tahoe. Let me try to explain: when we came up on Wednesday, we were on the west side of Tahoe. Route 50 took us around the east side, through the town and all of its stoplights. (Two weeks after our trip, I told Linda about the route that Gary and Jim suggested and she said in disbelief, “The FIFTY! That takes you completely around Lake Tahoe!”) It was a lovely ride through beautiful scenery, and we finally made it to Placerville a mere four-and-a-half hours later, which meant that we had two more hours to get to Sacramento…
We pulled in to the Placerville Taco Bell and got out to stretch and feed the children. As I slid out of the passenger’s seat, I noticed Dave hobbling out of his van. We looked at each other in dazed horror. “Oh. My. GAWD!” I exclaimed. Dave’s eyebrows raised as he said, “What the hell were they thinking?” Going into Taco Hell, we ate, rested and gathered our strength for the eight remaining hours that we would be driving.
Dale looked so tired that I volunteered to drive the rest of the way. Piling back in our minivans, we took a deep collective breath and pushed the pedals to the metal. One more stop together for gas and a late burger for the boys, then we went our own ways. It was a little after one o’clock in the morning when we pulled into our garage. I got Marcus tucked into his bed while Dale unloaded the van. Mercifully, we laid our heads on our pillows at 1:30 Tuesday morning.
And as much as I hate for stories to end, this is where our adventure stops. The good news is that we still spend lots of time with the Russells and the Lofquists, and we’ve already booked our Gold Lake trip for next year. And whatever fun and surprises our next trip brings, I’m sure there will be plenty of stories to tell.
