Everything Old is New Again

Note: Last weekend, my mom told me a great story about something that happened when she was growing up. She has a lot of good stories, so I asked her to write something for my site. I just got her email, but instead of that story, she wrote about a vaction that I wrote about last year. But my version was basically just a few hazy memories of I trip we went on when I was seven. Not to mention that it was back-dated, so most of you probably never read it anyway (not that I do that...much). Anyway, here it is from her perspective. Enjoy.

The Griswalds aren't the only ones that have adventures. That's what the Hammels have, not so much as vacations as adventures.

Picture this: Weymouth, Massachusetts, 1986. Two families decide to share a vacation. The Hammel family: John age 7 and Ryan age 3, in training, and parents. The Busa family: Andrea age 18, Kristin age 16, Jon and Joel 14 year old twins and parents. We decided to take this trip because my sister-in-law Betty had inherited her father's Winnebago and thought this would be a fun and economical vacation for both our families.

The first step was cleaning the thing that hadn't been used in years. That was fun in a bucket right there! It was agreed upon that we would travel in two vehicles, the RV and our station wagon - which normally seats six. There was the section in the back where the third seat should have gone but we never got it, so it was basically just a rug and a well. For the ride down we would split up, with my brother and I doing the driving. Everyone tested driving the RV and all but Jay was quickly ruled out. Just because I took the corner on two wheels is no reason to panic! That was the only time I have ever heard Betty say "Holy shit!" as she was thrown from right side to left.

The sleeping arrangements were all worked out in advance. The twins and John would sleep in the pup tent. My husband and I would sleep in the loft above the front seats. Betty and Jay were on the converted table bed. Kristin and Ryan would sleep in the upper bunk over the table and Andrea would sleep in the improvised hammock slung across the front seats.

We were all so excited! We had maps from AAA, supplies, and destinations for camping and sight-seeing all picked out. We decided it would be too gross to use the bathroom while traveling, so the shower stall became the storage bin for all of our luggage. So, off we went with the RV in the lead. We got as far as Rhode Island when they had to stop for gas - not a good sign since we had only been on the road for 45 minutes.

Since we were transporting propane there are certain tunnels and bridges that we couldn't use, so we had to make some detours in addition to the ones we had to take for construction. We borrowed two CB radios so we could communicate with each other (these were the pre-cell-phone days). Just as we were approaching DC, I noticed smoke coming from the back of the RV and radioed my brother to pull over. We parked our little caravan on the side of the road. Did I forget to mention it was July, one of the hottest, driest Julys with temperatures of 110ª of oppressive heat? Nine of us sat on the steaming roadside while my brother tried to fix the RV. We noticed a really fowl smell, like rotting fish. Oh wait, it was rotting fish, a whole bag of it that someone had tossed on the side of the road! What are the odds we would pick that exact spot to pull over?

After 40 minutes the problem was fixed, off we went again; but now we were behind schedule for our arrival at the predetermined campground. We had planned on seeing the Washington Zoo, but skipped that for the memorials. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find two parking spaces near each other for a station wagon and Camper? Round and round we went. Here comes the giant head & hand of the Awakening again (pretty frightening the first time around).



Hey look, there's the White House. Finally, we both parked and strolled around the Viet Nam Memorial, Lincoln Memorial and Washington Monument. No time for anything else; back in the cars and off we went.

Now, according to the listing for the campground in the AAA book, we took the appropriate exit over Commodore Perry Bridge. We got to the other side but couldn't find the road. Back over the bride we went and then back again. A very odd thing occurred with each crossing. This was a toll bridge, but it's price kept changing for the RV every time we crossed. It seems we were supposed to exit using a sharp right down an entrance ramp because of construction. Talk about scary! Once we finally got that right we proceeded along, following the signs for the campground (this was in Pennsylvania, by the way). With nothing but cornfields in sight, we pulled into a combination Gas Station/Convenience Store/Real Estate Office and asked for directions.

We were a little concerned when upon entering, everyone was speaking Spanish in the middle of Pennsylvania. Go figure. Anyway, we asked about the campground and the man behind the counter said, "See that guy at the gas pump? He used to run the campground but went bankrupt about 5 years ago."

"You might want to think about taking those signs down," I said. We were directed to an alternate site and were under way once again. It has now been 15 loooong hours since we left home. We were tired, cranky, and smelly. The campsite is atop Mount Olympus; I swear we could have touched a cloud, and it was getting cold. We opened the shower to retrieve the luggage only to discover that even though we didn't put any water in it, there must have been enough left in the pipes to slowly seep out. I had the old-fashioned Samsonite hard-sided luggage and my brother's family had the newer soft sided luggage. While my stuff stayed nice and dry, theirs had absorbed 15 hours of leaking water. Betty spent the next 2 hours drying her laundry.

I went down to the little camp store with my boys. Ryan, as I mentioned, was in training but was wearing a diaper for the long trip. While in the store I lost sight of him and panicked - only to hear, "get away fa-from me." Of course I knew he just needed his privacy as he "did his duty," but the man in the aisle really freaked out and said "I didn't touch him!"

Back to the camper for a quick bite, no one felt like cooking. We then went to bed for some much need rest. I climbed up to my little nest. I was on the inside with my husband on his side next to me. I discovered that if I laid on my back and put my elbow beside me I could touch the ceiling with my finger tips.

"This must be what it is like to be buried alive," I thought to myself. Of course, now that is all I could think of.

I can't breathe. There is no air. I'm going to die! Calm down, you're not dying. Breathe! Look, there is a little vent in the side; I can get some air.

So I spent the rest of the night with my nose stuck against the little vent. When everyone got up in the morning and related how they slept, I said I hadn't slept all night and I felt claustrophobic. "I'm not claustrophobic," says Betty, "Jay and I will swap with you and John."

"Deal", I said. Day 2 begins.

Back on the road heading for Virginia, we have reservations at a campground near Busch Gardens, which is our final destination. More detours and bad directions delayed us further and now my husband needed to use the restroom. My husband isn't one to use public facilities; so if he was willing, you know it was an emergency. He hadn't been gone more than 30 seconds when he returns and said, "don't go in there, and if I pass out don't give me mouth to mouth because I think the shit is backing up into my mouth, but there is no way I'm using that toilet."

Twenty minutes later, we arrived at the campsite, which just happened to back up to the facilities building. My husband was out of the car almost before it stopped. The building consisted of four separate rooms: Women's showers and toilets and the same for the men. John saw the Women's showers on the left and figured the Men's side was on the right. I was seated at the picnic table on our sight when my two nieces came out of the Ladies Room giggling.

"I think Uncle John is in the Ladies Room", Andrea said.

"Don't say anything." I said.

My husband has a bad temper and doesn't like to be laughed at, so we all just sat there and pretended that we didn't know when he came out.

"Was that the two of you?" he said. Fortunately he took the stall all the way down the end of the building but thought the guys that came in walked a little funny. He laughed. Whew! We all climbed into our little beds. The table/bed needed a Kleenex box over the protruding brace to keep it from impaling you. I am very nearsighted and can only see about 4 feet away without my glasses; so when I heard a commotion about 20 minutes after settling down, I really couldn't see what was happening. What I did see was Betty pushing my brother out of the loft and landing in his arms before running out of the door. Seems I'm not the only one that felt buried alive. End of day 2.

We still hadn't used that stove we cleaned and got propane for. Too hot to cook, too hot to breathe, sleep, walk or anything else that required any type of movement. We decided to just use the car for the short trip to Busch Gardens. So in we piled. Three people in the front seat, five people in the back seat and the twins in the way back. Ten people in a six passenger car makes things a little crowded and very hot!

At last, "Wally World"...I mean Busch Gardens. Hurray! We arrange to meet for lunch in Germany. It was a great big hall with endless tables on one side and food lines on the other with a dance floor and stage in the middle. My son John is a picky eater and he wanted Pizza, so I had my husband get the pizza and drinks while I got everything else.

Every good mother carries extra clothing for her children and of course there were the diapers and everything that goes with them. My husband carried the bag and stood in the pizza line. I took the boys with me. Every woman knows that you always take your shoulder bag off before bending or it will fall off your shoulder. Seems men don't have this knowledge, so when my husband bent over to place the tray of drinks and pizza, off slipped the bag.

SMACK! Over went all the drinks right onto the pizza. Not wanting to upset him anymore, I calmly picked up my napkin and started blotting the pizza and passed it to John. Everyone at the table held their breath waiting for the explosion.

"I can't eat this," sobs John.

"You wanted it now EAT IT!" growls the father.

So naturally, I had to go get someone to mop the floor and get more drinks and pizza. After that we had a good time. Andrea and the boys were off playing skill games - and doesn't one of them win the biggest bear I have ever seen. We had to tie it to the roof since we were already full to capacity. Still too hot to cook, we opt for a local restaurant. Salad bars were still fairly new back then, so when I encountered some meat I didn't recognize I asked the waitress.

"What's this?"

"Taacko beef," she replied. I didn't know what Taacko was, but it didn't sound like something I wanted to try at that point. My husband came back with some.

"What is that?"

"Its Taco Beef," he says. Oh, is that what she said? We went back to the camp for the End of Day 3.

One more day at Busch Gardens, and then back to camp. On day 5, we thought we would try Water Country. We had to wait for my nieces to get ready; and since we were going to the water park, we all had our suits on under our clothes - or so we thought. First, we stopped at the local McDonald's for breakfast. My husband looks at the menu and orders a large orange juice.

"What did you say?" asks the girl behind the counter.

"A large orange juice," replies my husband.

"We don't carry that."

"You don't carry orange juice?"

"Orange juice, sure. We don't have the other thing you said."

Laaage?

"How about small? Do you have that?"

"Sure."

"I thought I was speaking English," he says as we sit down to eat. After we eat we are ready to go to the park. But wait, Kristin doesn't have her suit on, so we have to go back to the campsite. As we are driving back on the two lane road, Ryan, who is sitting in my husbands lap, says, "I have a string in my throat."

"Go like this," my husband says, making a throat-clearing noise. Up comes breakfast and my husband catches it in his hand before it goes down my neck.

"Pull over!" everyone is yelling at me, but I can't because there is no shoulder on this road. Finally, I find a spot to pull off the road everyone jumps out except for the twins, who are trapped in the back. I think I had their hand prints on the inside of the window for months. We return to camp and clean out the car. While washing off his hands under the faucet, John is stung by a bee. This somehow translates as a "sign" to my husband that we should not go to the water park. My brother and his family pack up in our car and set out for a day of fun. We get to go to the water park across the street.

There are two slides that look like they were made from Lincoln Logs, only not as sturdy. The two Johns go to one slide while Ryan and I take the other. The kid at the top tells us the side with the 'X' is the slow side, so I sit down and place Ryan between my knees. We took off and hit the first curve with such speed that it knocked us back and Ryan began to slip off the mat. I managed to catch him under the arms with my feet. We now became a luge team hurtling down the chute at lightning speed, coming so close to the edge I thought we would go over.

When we finally reach the end it was like being shot from a cannon. Out we flew and I landed on my back with Ryan on my chest at the bottom of a three foot pool. I tried to push him above the water but the mat had landed on top of us. It was like breaking through ice. At last I am able to push the mat off and get Ryan above the water. I stand up and look around but everything is blurry. I must have hit my head pretty hard, because I can't make out anything. Then I step on my glasses at the bottom of the pool. Just then, the two chippies that are supposed to be the lifeguards tear themselves away from the boys and ask if I had a problem.

"Didn't you see me at the bottom?"

"No," was all they said.

I got out just in time to see my son John start his journey down the slide. About half way down, he just stops, so he gets up to put his mat back in the water. About 5 seconds later, along comes his father and WHAM, they hit and now are both on the one mat flying down the slide. They land safely in the pool and we decide to leave and mingle with the other 150 people in the 20 foot campground pool. Very refreshing!

We recounted our tale to my brother and family upon their return. We all pile in the car and head out to dinner. Where do we want to go? We drive up and down the divided road trying to get ten people to agree upon something. You now what, I'm really not that hungry. Its not too late to pack up and head back home. So at 8 PM, we start back to Massachusetts. Around 1 AM I can't drive anymore and we pull into a rest stop. We get some cocoa and park between some trucks to get some sleep. By 6 AM we are back on the road and it is really hard to sleep sitting up behind the steering wheel. The rest of the trip was uneventful. The RV was put up for sale and that was our last combined adventure.