Karlos is here. Rental car is ready to rock. My brain is being held together by paperclips and duct tape. Yes, it’s that time again. Hitting the asphalt for another trek to the Pacific Northwest. Though this time it’s slightly less exciting only because I was just there two months ago. I tell you, driving up to Corvallis for graduation has taken some of shine off rest stops and gas station snacks for me. Here’s to hoping that having a cranky yet hilarious Aussie as my copilot will change things up for the better.

This is already starting out as a non-standard Festival trip. We were technically supposed to have left first-thing this morning. However, since I had to spend almost 3 hours at SFO yesterday waiting for Karlos to make it through customs, we were late to do almost everything I’d planned on having done before leaving. So I said FUCKIT and chopped off the coastal leg of our journey. Ouch.

The nice part of this is that Karlos and I got to spend quality time doing random shit for the past 24 hours. Yeah, I got my tasks done, but we were also able to goof around in Wal-Mart (though not looking for dick pants this year) and eat a passable meal. It’s probably the most relaxed I’ve been prior to a Fest roadtrip in a loooong time. Which is kind of what I need considering that instead of getting to fully relax tomorrow night when we arrive in Cascade Locks, I have to log in to work and apply for jobs and send out requests for appointments with all of these potential supervisors. Talk about sucking the joy out of vacation. (I also get to engage in interviews this week while in Washington. Because that’s what I really need, right?)

At least once the Festival is over, Karlos and I get to spend the better part of a week in sleeping bags on the ground over at MacKerricher State Park. I’m almost positive that by that point, I will need a lot of wine and possibly even a cubic buttload of cheese. The camping trip should prove to be the most amusing part of my entire vacation, seeing as how Karlos has never camped before. He’s very much looking forward to the experience. I’m looking forward to the inevitable lolz.

So for tonight, we’re kicking back, drinking beer, laughing at memories of Silly People We Knew Back When and pretending that we don’t have to leave early in the morning. In fact, I guarantee that we won’t leave early in the morning. But in the end, that will help to make the trip all the more entertaining. I hope.

Mmmmmm...salmon...

Once again we made our annual trek to the World’s Largest Salmon Barbecue in Fort Bragg. And once again I’ve come away with the keen sense that my family is nothing short of batshit crazy.

This year my cousin Viv was home to visit. She’s taken over as the matriarch of the family since my Aunt Pearl passed away, something my Uncle Bud and cousin Vince are absolutely THRILLED about. The three of them aren’t bad people. Not by a long shot. But holy shit, do they ever lack the ability to communicate with one another. Hell, they’re not very good at communicating with other people either, but at least they try. But when it comes to sorting shit out amongst themselves, there’s a distinct inability to form words into sentences so that the other might understand even the most basic nuances of their needs.

Instead what we get is a fair amount of shouting and arm-waving, followed by lots of ignoring. This wouldn’t be much of an issue if it didn’t fall right smack dab in the middle of our vacation.

I might add that none of the shouting or arm-waving comes from myself or my mom. We do, however, actively participating in the ignoring. We’re huge fans of this activity, and we engage in it quite regularly while we’re up there. In fact, we managed to pretend we didn’t even have family when, during the salmon barbecue itself, a huge wad of family drama fell right onto the middle of the table with a big wet SPLAT. There wasn’t enough flat surface for me to do all the /headdesk-ing that the situation required. Suffice it to say, once the drama llama took off with the family in tow, life became pleasing once again, and mom and I were able to continue enjoying our wine and the company of four very lovely new friends we made during our meal. When I announced (with a well-oiled eye-roll) “The drama has left the building!” everyone chuckled and nodded appreciatively. The sad thing is that the family wasn’t and will never be embarrassed by the scene they cause. And to be frank, it’s one person of the three who causes the drama. I won’t say which person, but believe me when I say that they are running a veritable fucking drama llama plantation in their spare time.

But really…they’re family and we love them anyway. Even if they make us grit our teeth and bite our tongues and drive four miles away to use the restroom at the local state park just so we don’t have to be in that house one second longer than necessary. (No. Really.)

Good Weather, Good Wine

The weekend wasn’t a waste though. It never is. We know how to roll with the punches. And it was hard to not roll all over the fucking place with the gorgeous sunny weather the coast has been experiencing. I failed to pack a single pair of shorts for the weekend and regretted it the entire time. Not that it was too hot to wear jeans, mind you. It was just so gorgeous, shorts were totally warranted and would have been much appreciated as well. At least I packed mostly short-sleeve shirts and light blouses. The only time it was inclement enough that I wished I’d packed more warmly was Saturday night as we waited in an unsheltered field for the fireworks to start. Hunkered down in folding canvas chairs, wrapped in one army blanket apiece, and me with nothing but a hoodie as outerwear…and the wind came up, whipped around that field, and cut through us like a batallion of knives. The only physical damage I sustained all weekend was a bit of sunburn on my chest, but considering I normally burn EVERYWHERE, I will accept this small discomfort as a blessing.

On the way up Friday, we stopped at a couple of wineries. First was Teldeschi, a regular stomping ground for us, where mom had a wine order to pick up and we spent half an hour gabbing with Bill, the tasting room guy. He’s about as awesome as awesome gets…he looks like he ought to be on Deadliest Catch, not managing a tasting room. My favorites here tend to be the Cinque Terra, the Petit Sirah, and Syrah, though everything they make is incredible. A good old Italian family (owner and winemaker Danny is this tiny little mustachioed paisano with a wicked sense of humor) with a great love for wine and good times.

The other winery we hit was a new one for me, though my mom had stopped in there a long time ago when it was under a different name. Way up near the top of a hill we encountered Maple Creek Winery. First of all, the location is gorgeous, with nothing but the sound of wind through trees to keep you company. Next, the wines are fantastic. There was not a single wine there that we didn’t like. So much so that mom joined the wine club. Because what she needed was another wine club. The best part…the adorable and funny pigtailed lady running the tasting bar was named Saffron. HOW AWESOME IS THAT? I walked away with a few bottles of their ’06 Zin and their Cowboy Red, as well as their Late Harvest Chardonnay (which would taste incredible with a nice block of Dubliner). I also walked away with a sheet of their labels, since I commented several times about how beautiful the artwork on their bottle labels were. Yay, new decoupage project!

I think I would be very happy living anywhere west of (or along) highway 101. It’s just always my gig. My mood lightens considerably the further west I go. As long as I stay north of Monterey, I’m good.