The 250-mile drive to Lompoc was very interesting and pleasant, since we took less-traveled roads as much as possible. We journeyed 100 miles on Highway 166, which runs along the edge of the "austere, yet inviting" Carrizo Plain National Monument, where we want to go someday and hike. Maybe when we're in our 80s.
The whole drive took a little more than 4 hours, getting us to Lompoc around 5 pm. I had to pee, babies needed diapers, we were hungry, but we REALLY needed to find a hotel room, because we had not made a reservation. Rocket Boy had called around, trying to find a hotel with cribs, but had not actually reserved one (because we were still arguing about whether or not to go). We brought one crib with us so we only needed a hotel with one. It turned out, however, that Labor Day weekend in Lompoc is not the time or the place to be choosy. We drove to at least 10 hotels -- maybe all they had left was smoking rooms, or the only room they had cost $199. And no one had a crib. There was a huge Trailways bus driving around town, dropping its seemingly endless supply of passengers off at different hotels. Twice the bus arrived just before we did. I began to get frantic.
Finally we found a non-chain hotel with a non-smoking room for $65/night. No crib, but two queen beds. We figured one twin could sleep in our crib and the other could sleep in a bed.
Then we had to find food. By now it was after 7 pm, cold and foggy (and the twins were in shorts). We had spotted a Carrows on the main street in town, H Street, so we went there. Unfortunately they were having a staffing problem. We were seated after about 15 minutes, but even though by then it was close to 7:30 and the place was emptying out, it took ages for our food to come. We were waited on by the hostess, who appeared to be losing her mind from the stress of trying to hold the restaurant together.
Somehow we managed to consume some food and get back to the hotel. I changed the twins into diapers and sleepers, but now we had to get them to go to bed. Back and forth they went -- first one wanted to be in the crib and the other on the bed; then they would switch. I told Rocket Boy to take his laptop and go to the lobby, so I could turn out most of the lights and get them to calm down. Even then it was deadly. And I started to think: what exactly is fun about this vacation? Is it really enough to get out of Ridgecrest if one's life is made infinitely more difficult as a result? This seems to be THE big question in our lives now.
The next morning -- today -- Sunday -- we partook of the continental breakfast provided by the hotel and nothing too terrible happened. After I finished eating I followed the twins over to a little lounge area with a fake fireplace and couches and lots of magazines. I picked up Time, attracted by the article about Jonathan Franzen's new book. Now I am not a big Franzen fan. I didn't like The Corrections. But I'm willing to give his new book a try. But then I read, in this fawning article, that Franzen took up chewing tobacco in order to break through his writer's block. And (natch, it being unbelievably addictive), he's still chewing away, preparing to contract mouth cancer, tongue cancer, ruin his teeth, and all the other lovely things that chewing tobacco causes. And the article made it sound like a good idea! How many young idiots are going to start chewing tobacco now so they can be a big name like Jonathan Franzen?
This article made me so mad it really ruined my day.
But onward. We checked out of the hotel and drove down Ocean Avenue to Ocean Beach Park, which looks like it would be a great place to bird. Here we are in the park:
Then we left Lompoc and drove to Buellton, where we had an OK lunch at Andersen's Pea Soup -- nothing wrong with the food, just our two-year-old dining companions were as usual a bit high-spirited.
After Buellton we proceeded to Solvang -- not to shop, but to go to a really nice park that I had read about in the Santa Maria newspaper (when you travel, always check local papers for things to do, places to go). The park was called Sunny Fields and it had this great play area. Here we are, not wanting to leave:
Then we went to downtown Solvang, which was a mob scene, because we wanted to go to a nice bookstore there, called the Book Loft. Here began the misery of the rest of the day. After much effort we found a parking place, loaded the boys into the stroller, and found the bookstore. We decided to go in separately, first Rocket Boy, then me. When it was my turn I went upstairs to the used books and was scanning them quickly when suddenly I needed to go to the bathroom. I looked around for a restroom and saw nothing, so I went downstairs and back outside to tell Rocket Boy that I needed to return to the public restrooms in the park that we'd walked through. He said "No, there's a restroom on the first floor of the bookstore, use that." I couldn't. I couldn't walk back in, past the mild-mannered man at the front desk, and use their restroom and then not buy anything. And I couldn't buy anything because the twins were screaming.
So Rocket Boy said fine, he would get us some iced tea at the cafe next door and meet me back at the car. I pushed the stroller back to the public restrooms only to find that they were being cleaned. There was a line of about 10 women waiting for the cleaning to finish. I decided I couldn't stand in that line, but instead would just suffer. So I packed the twins back into the car, Rocket Boy came with the drinks, and we set off for home. Which was 4 hours away.
Since I have a bad cough, I've been consuming beverages almost nonstop for the last few days. So I really desperately needed a bathroom. But the more I need a bathroom, the more embarrassed I get about needing one. I start to feel as though I am not worthy of using other people's bathrooms. If I only need to go a little bit, I can stop at a McDonald's and run in and use the facilities without buying anything and it doesn't bother me. But if I really need to go, this becomes impossible. I can only use a McDonald's bathroom if I first buy and eat a large meal. I feel that otherwise, McDonald's staff will chase me out of the restaurant. Since I can't take the time to buy and eat a large meal, because I really need to go, McDonald's is out. The only thing that is not out is the bathrooms in rest areas, or possibly parks, but we weren't on the kind of highways that have rest areas. There were some parks, but because I really needed to go, I felt that we could not possibly stop in any of these parks, because it would delay us.
On and on we drove, to Santa Barbara, to Ventura, up Highway 126 to Santa Paula, Fillmore. At one point Rocket Boy stopped at a roadside stand to buy fruit. He pointed out to me that they had an outhouse in back. I ignored him.
Driving through Santa Clarita we got lost and missed the turnoff to Highway 14, so we took a winding mountain road for miles and miles and miles, all the way to Palmdale. We were going to have dinner at the Denny's in Palmdale, but I said "let's push on to Mojave." I was in so much pain, from both bladder and bowels, I was near tears. And I thought, this inability to help myself when I most need help is not limited to elimination situations. The worse some problem in my life becomes, the less able I am to solve it. I should think more about that, someday when I am not so tired.
We reached Mojave, we reached the Denny's, we parked, we got out of the car, we put sandals on the twins (faster than shoes and socks), we walked to the door. Baby A began to cry. He wanted something in the car. His hat. "Just forget it," I said, but Baby A cried louder and louder. We went back for his hat, and of course Baby B's hat too. Tried again. Baby A still won't enter Denny's. Something about the car. We had to calm him down -- we couldn't START our evening meal with one child screaming at the top of his lungs. Finally I found a small toy car in the diaper bag and gave it to him and that calmed him down. We went inside and I RAN to the bathroom.
And then we just had to get through yet another meal in a restaurant with two-year-old twins, two more diaper changes, the 1-hour drive from Mojave to Ridgecrest, bringing all the stuff in from the car, two more diaper changes and getting twins into sleepers, reading stories, setting up the humidifier, and putting two little men to bed. And this blog post.
And now I am going to take a large dose of codeine cough syrup AND a melatonin and sleep for hours and hours and hours. I think Ridgecrest is going to seem just fine tomorrow, and maybe that is the number one purpose of this sort of trip.
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