Our first week on the road
We had a plan. It seemed simple enough. Fly to New Hampshire for Carrie-Ann’s parents’ Celebration of Life, return to Oregon, make our final modifications to Ayla (our R-Pod travel trailer), see our kids, Madison, Xander, and Coranna, one last time, take my Mom on a cruise to Alaska, and then hit the road for our first big destination, Banff National Park, Canada.
We got most of the way through the work on Ayla on Sunday the 10th, when I started to feel funky. My first COVID test the day before was negative, so I thought it was all in my head. By Monday morning I had a legit sore throat and cough and was pretty sure I had COVID. A second rapid test confirmed it with a very faint line. A lab-based PCR test validated that positive result, so one thing was clear: we were not cruising to Alaska.
“What started out as a way to lay low in recovery turned into a pleasant stay in a beautiful location.”
Because the cruise was so important to my mom and us, we couldn’t just cancel it. Although I didn’t cherish the idea of a drive back to Centralia, Washington with the trailer from Canada, and then a return drive to rejoin our original trip, we rescheduled the cruise to mid-August. It will probably be a better time overall.
Staying in Banff National Park required advanced planning, and we booked all our Banff camps six months in advance. We loved the plans we made, the camps we were able to reserve, and the draw of a majestically wild location to kick off our trip. But this also made those Banff dates rigid. We now had the dates of our cancelled cruise, a bit longer than week, to recover from COVID before hustling up to Canada.
For that time, we were able to get this accommodations at the Thousand Trails near Leavenworth, Washington for our recuperation. We found a relatively secluded site next to a beautiful meadow. At first gingerly, I explored the immediate area at a very slow pace. What started our as a way to lay low in recovery has turned into a pleasant stay in a beautiful location.
A full week after that positive PCR test and the answer is clear: recovery from COVID is slow. I’ve had two relatively symptom-free days, but Carrie-Ann is still deep in her illness despite her best efforts to pretend otherwise. I’m stupid enough to play along with her efforts to appear okay, but the reality is she needs a couple more days of laying low to fully recover. I tested positive again on Monday, so I’m not quite in the clear yet myself. I hiked 7 miles yesterday while Carrie-Ann slept, so I’m definitely on the mend, but I still have sniffles and a bit of COVID fog lingering.
I’ll take just a moment on the whole COVID infection situation because I fought hard to avoid it and succeeded for 2 1/2 years not to get infected. It’s very obvious that I should be grateful for the excellent work of the scientists who developed the vaccines. Thankfully, I got it after two rounds of the Pfizer vaccine and a Moderna booster. It’s a nasty virus, and I’ve not been sicker as an adult in my entire life. I was not seriously concerned for my life like I might have been in 2020, or even in 2021. In my humble opinion we might be a wee bit premature in pretending that the pandemic is behind us. In our flight home from New Hampshire, O’Hare looked like it might have in 2019, with less than 20% of travelers masked up. I’m very clear that if the airports had retained their masking policy (as I believe they should have), I would not have contracted COVID. I understand the political pressure, but airports represent such a potent mass spreading risk, I just don’t understand the logic. I’ll stow the soap box for now, but I’m thankful we did not infect anyone else, especially my mom or any of our family in Philomath.
We have four more days here, and then we’re off to Winthrop, Washington, a town even closer to Canada. After that we’re spending a couple of days in place that is a memory from my youth, Penticton, BC. My parents got caught up in the 70’s square dancing craze and I vaguely remember a trip to Penticton for a square dance festival. I do remember vividly the Penticton slogan from a billboard, perhaps due to the alliteration: “Penticton: the land of beaches and peaches.” I also remember the lake we camped on, and how shallow the water was far out into the lake. As a little kid, it was trippy to be able to wade 100 yards out and still only be up to my knees. At least that’s how I remember the experience, which is probably accurate because why else would I remember it? As far as I can remember, my parents weren’t really the type to retell stories of our travels, so it couldn’t have been an implanted memory.
As we prepare for our departure in a few days, I’m reflecting on our trip plans. It’s important to have a plan for a year-long trip, but it’s also important to be able to flex. When we leave Leavenworth, there is no buffer for problems until after the cruise, so we have a few rigidly planned weeks ahead of us. After that, we will find our rhythm as we progress. I have a feeling it will be more spontaneous and leave room for serendipity. Time will tell.
