Sunday, September 20:
Good grief, primitive camping sure requires a lot of 'stuff.' After weeks of gathering begged, borrowed and bought gear, we were ready to load the car. It took Tom (his area of expertise) almost four hours to puzzle-piece it all in! Trunk stuffed- check. Car top carrier stuffed- check. Every available cranny inside the car stuffed- check. Just enough space for dogs and people- check. Finally, myself weary with waiting and Tom weary with loading, we pile in and head out, full of excitement to be on our way!
Immediately, Greer begins drooling. We anticipated her car sickness, so made sure the water-proof seat cover was tucked in well and gave her a dose of Dramamine. I'm here to tell you, drugs don't always work. Not ten minutes into our journey, Greer begins vomiting liquids; all the while drooling like a mad dog, looking at me pitifully as if to ask "How could you put me through this?" Eoin, meanwhile, has squished himself against the car door as much as possible to escape the projectiles, but to no avail, she drenched his tail- "Ewwww, Mom, did you see what she just did? Eww, get her away from me! Stop touching me!"
Then, the car died. Oh, no? Oh, YES! Characteristically, it also starts right up again. Two more miles... it dies again. I'm tearing up by now. Tom pulls off the highway... it dies again. It's behaving worse than ever before under the load on the engine. We both know what neither wants to say out loud: this car will not make it, we have to turn back. Now I'm crying. Greer is still vomiting and drooling buckets.
The saviors of the day are my sister and our brother-in-law who agree they can spare their minivan for the week for our use. Thank you from the bottom of our collective hearts!!! I am weeping now and Tom is choked up. We were afraid the trip we'd so looked forward to for months would have to be canceled.
We baby the car home via side streets. It doesn't die once. Gr. By this time I'd really like to blow it up and be done. Needless, to say Eoin and Greer were glad to get out of the car! By this time it's 1 p.m., so we decide to go out for a bite to eat, regroup and de-stress. Afterward, what took Tom almost four hours to load took us one hour to transfer to the minivan, with room to spare, each dog can travel in it's own crate.
A relaxed dinner out, movie in, good night's sleep. Begin again Monday. Boy, were we glad that wasted day was over.
~ too much load for the Bomb ~