I got this crazy idea to take the kids and go to California by myself.
And so I did.
(Remind me later how exhausting it was so I think twice about doing that ever again, OK?)
We stayed with my sister and her family. As you can see, Uncle Rich can jimmy rig a booster seat out of anything! Let's hear it for Canadian Scouts! (Is that a thing?)
I convinced my other sister to drive down with me, which was good, since she drove that 30 minutes somewhere between Cedar City and St. George. The kids were decent enough, I guess, although I do remember the last two times I drove down to Las Vegas as taking significantly less time and being profoundly quieter.
We ditched the Inland Empire for the beach as soon as possible. Oh, San Clemente, you're pretty good looking.
The whole point of all the rigamarole: get the kids to fall in love with the ocean so they, too, can spend half their lives pining for it.
Success, I'd say.
Let's run away to surf forever.
San Clemente is one of those tiny California beach towns that's still a little worn and sandy. Down the coast from gleaming Newport and Laguna, it trails the rest of Orange County with worn signs and narrow streets, more for beach bums than tourists. We stayed just off the beaches, south of the San Clemente Pier, and spent two days rolling in the sand and surf.
Anytime you wonder if the ten hour car trip was worth it, all you have to do is remember what it's like to dig to China.