What, then, made ours The Greatest? Almost too many factors to list. (But here's an attempt.)
(Mt. Shasta in northern California, on the way home.)
It’s a road trip, after all, so it should come as no surprise that it all starts with the road itself. And our road was Highway 101, an epically scenic, coast-hugging stretch from San Francisco, California to Portland, Oregon. (And a few roads in between, as the 101 never ventures off the coast far enough to reach Portland.)
The song says you get your kicks on Route 66, but that’s only because it rhymes. Our trip would suggest there are many more kicks to be had on Highway 101, including the Golden Gate Bridge, the Marin Headlands, the Redwood Forest. A smattering of elk, miles of California coast, even more miles of Oregon Coast, and all the Winnebagos you’d ever want to see. (And Kimberly wanted to see a lot, being the RV-enthusiast that she is.)
It’s impossible to overstate what a gorgeous drive this is. Should you find yourself wanting to drive 1500+ miles in a few days (it’s about 750 miles from SF to Portland), this is your road.
2. THE VEHICLE
This is where a lot of road trips (quite literally) break down. We were lucky. The Volkswagen was a champion. Always comfortable; never a problem. But the real brilliance of the car wasn’t the engine or the tires, but the Coleman cooler sitting in the backseat. Thanks to Kimberly’s genius planning, we were a rolling corner market stocked with a healthy array of fruits, vegetables, drinks, cheeses, crackers, sweets, and beef jerky. (You can hardly call it a road trip without beef jerky. Even Kimberly, who didn’t eat any, was happy to know it was always an arm’s reach away.)
Lewis and Clark couldn’t have planned their provisions any better. We were always ready with a picnic or just quick snack to get us to the next town. Just as the beauty of the road can’t be overstated, neither can the contents of the cooler.
3. THE STOPS
In Legget, California we sought out the photo-op of driving our car through the trunk of one of those (still very much alive) giants. It was a tight fit, but we made it through unscathed (see photo at the top of the post). The same can’t be said for the Chevy Suburban that came behind us.
(Note to future road trippers: if it seems illogical that you could drive a large truck through the trunk of a tree, that’s because it is. Call it schadenfreude, but seeing a Suburban stuck inside a tree is something I will always happily remember.)
Our first night was spent at a campsite called The Emerald Forest in Trinidad, California, just shy of the Oregon border. We chose a cabin over camping, because we guessed that baby bumps and forest floors don’t make for a restful night’s sleep.
Our second day had us driving through more redwoods, past elk, into Oregon along enormous sand dunes, and finally into the small, historic town of Florence.
From there we ventured north to the Salishan Lodge, a great place that had a spa for Kimberly, a driving range for me, and triple-berry cobbler for both of us.
Then it was on to the bustling metropolis of Portland, Oregon, with a nice little detour to the Willamette Valley Winery, where Kimberly’s friend Becky Rochester works.
Portland, Oregon. Our second time in six weeks, and we were more than happy to go back. Last time was for the wedding of our good friends Molly and Aaron. This time was for the wedding of my cousin Andy and his new bride Leni. The bonus of a family wedding is getting to see, quite obviously, family. We saw my aunts, my uncle, my cousins, and even my parents. A great couple of nights.
As a lucky strike extra, we got to see the West Coast Stalsbergs for an improptu pre-Fourth of July picnic at their house in Vancouver, Washington.
After family and weddings, it was time to head home, stopping in Ashland, Oregon for the night, where we got to enjoy some good, proper Fourth of July festivities.
This is where a good road trip becomes The Greatest Road Trip in the History of theWorld. Anyone can drive the same road, pack a solid cooler, hit the right stops, and even arrive in Portland, Oregon. But I’m the only one that gets to do it with Kimberly and the baby she’s cooking up. It’s a long time to be in a car together, and we had a great time the whole way. (Okay, almost the whole way, until just outside of Portland we briefly switched roles and I tried to play navigator, putting us on our own Bridge to Nowhere. But those errors were quickly forgiven and proper roles quickly restored.)
Couldn’t have been a better week. The weather cooperated, we always found great places to stay, the scenery was amazing, and seeing family was much needed. The first of what we hope are many Senn Family road trips was a huge success.
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