It’s a bit of a long one, and tangential too, but please bear with me because this story encapsulates basically everything I love about being a random lump of flesh floating on a green rock in outer space, about this beautiful Universe, about happenstance and coincidence and chances, about synchronicity and everything sacred, and also, about really nothing at all.

It’s about how my little family ended up traipsing across the wild and desolate California desert, in the middle of literal nowhere, following one of my wildest dreams and hunting for 26-million-year-old crystals. I don’t believe in fate, not for one second. But I do believe that we all have the power to drive forward into our own fantastical futures.

So here’s the story of how I drove us into this one. And it starts on an airplane, in 2013, with this really annoying businessman who kept buying rounds of drinks for the entire row . . .




LA to Portland. It was a late-night flight. He’d probably already had a few in the airport bar. I was excited, returning to Portland for the first time since I’d moved away, and for the Vida Vegan blogging conference no less. I was in for a week of old friends and new friends and great food and so much fun, so even though I’m antisocial by nature (introvert power!), on this particular flight I was feeling a bit chatty. I was seated on the aisle, then in the center seat was a woman, and then next to her at the window was our libatious benefactor. He just kept buying rounds. So we chatted.

The woman. Kim. She’s hard to describe. Kim is VERY intense. Kim has opinions and you’re going to hear them. And she’s a real badass. Of the “No, I REALLY don’t care what you think of me” variety. And you know she means it. At the time, she was working overnight security on the Metro, Portland’s public transit system. Basically, Kim is fuckin’ metal.

We talked all the way to Portland. Don’t ask me why. I never talk to people on planes. Never. Like, as a policy (introvert power!). But something was different that night. I talked with Kim, and sort of with Drunky McDrunkersons, for the whole flight. And by the time we were landing, she and I were becoming Facebook friends. Another thing I just don’t do.

My sister picked me up at the airport, and I went off on my merry way. I never saw Kim again. That was 2013, remember.

But Kim and I stayed Facebook friends for 5 whole years. I followed along with her life and she followed along with mine. We shared a lot of the same politics, and she’s very outspoken. I appreciated that. So even though we’d only met the once, she somehow made it past all of my [many] Facebook friend purges. 5 years!

And somewhere along the way, Kim began posting handmade jewelry. By then she had moved out to Las Vegas, and she was learning how to silversmith — making her own jewelry. And she was fitting the pieces with crystals that she had mined herself, in the desert.

I was enthralled.

Then, one day in February, 2018, Kim posted some photos of these deep purple amethyst clusters that she had collected the day before. I commented on the photos, asking where she found them. “A mountain,” she said. “I can’t say where …”

I replied that I understood, it was just such a dream of mine. Maybe someday. And to my total shock she responded “You can totally come with us! You just can’t put the location on social media.”

Oh my god.

That was in February, and it just so happened that we were deep in the process of planning our Spring Break Desert Road Trip for the end of March. With a little reconfiguring, we might actually be able to make that happen.

Oh my god.




And that’s how it came to be. This thing, that I never in my wildest dreams thought was possible. It actually happened.

That March, Waits and Jeremy and I woke up at dawn in a strange, surreal little truck stop/casino on the California-Nevada border. Our trunk was stuffed with pick axes and shovels and Gatorade, just as Kim had instructed.

We met her, and her husband Brandy, in the parking lot. A reunion after 5 years. And then we were off, caravanning into the desert, to a secret location. To a mountain. In the middle of absolutely nowhere.

We had to hike for miles just to get to the right place. Carrying everything.

Waits was such a trooper. It was a full day of work, dawn to dusk. Hiking and digging, it was aching work under the relentless desert sun. No shade, no respite.

And we loved every single second of it.

It’s hard to describe the majesty and the magic that I felt out there. Absolute quiet. Heat like a heavy blanket. Screaming muscles. Stillness. Standing shoulder-deep in a vein, covered in dust and sweat and sticky prickly plants, broken fingernails and scraped skin reaching deeper into the earth. Wrapping my fingers around something so pure and precious, 26 million years in the making.

It was so powerful. Indescribably powerful. Transcendent.

So, that’s my story.

I never would have imagined, when I accepted that drink from that annoying businessman and started talking to the loud, no-bullshit lady next to me, that the story would have led me to this day.

You just never know. You just never, ever know.

Belize is the most beautiful snorkeling and diving destination you’ve maybe/probably never heard of. The majority of people I talk to have only a very general sense of the country (“Is it somewhere in Central America?” (yes) and “They speak Spanish there, right?” (no) is how the conversation usually goes). I feel like Belize is sort of still a secret, which is why I’m so excited to share my Belizean adventures here. I fell completely in love with this country, and I want to share that love!

Belize is an equatorial paradise, with a rich melting pot of people and culture, lush tropical jungles full of incredible wildlife, pristine Mayan ruins, that crystal clear Caribbean water, and of course — some of the very best snorkeling and diving in the entire world.

The barrier reef off the coast of Belize is the second largest in the entire world. But even though it’s a developing country with limited resources, Belize has taken great care to preserve and protect the integrity of the space. This reef is practically pristine, because there are strict regulations in place to protect it. It’s inspiring!

You can access the reef from many parts of Belize — it essentially spans the entirety of the coastline. We were in the north, staying on the tiny island of Caye Caulker, and we did a lot of research for our snorkeling trip. With over 1,200 reviews and maintaining a 5-star rating on Trip Advisor, Caveman Snorkeling Tours was the clear winner.

We booked the full day tour, which promised a minimum of 7 stops. It didn’t disappoint.


First Stop: The Coral Gardens

Perfect for our first dip and to test our gear, the Coral Gardens is a sprawling and diverse collection of corals in relatively shallow water, with a mellow, gentle current. I didn’t even know you could see so many different types of coral all in one place.

Alas, none of my pics could accurately capture the beauty of the wildlife. So, no flora and fauna photos here.

However I did learn an important snorkeling lesson: your mask will seal fine, you don’t need to make it THAT tight.

Hol Chan is Mayan for “little channel”. The Hol Chan Reserve is Belize’s oldest marine reserve, and was established by Belizean conservationists who were concerned over the unchecked fishing and diving on the reef.

This stop was absolutely incredible: a 45-minute guided snorkeling tour through the reef. We saw barracudas and moray eels and sharks and turtles and rays, dozens of beautiful and brightly colored tropical fish, and about a hundred different types of corals.

Chatto’s Place is a shallow area in the middle of the ocean, where an old conch fisherman (that’s Chatto) used to come every day to clean his catch. Which means that the entire sea floor, in this one particular place, is covered with discarded conch shells.

We didn’t get any pictures from this spot, but it was totally unique.


4: Shark Ray Alley

Another spot in the middle of the ocean, this is an area where all the fisherman used to congregate to clean their catch. The sharks learned to come to the sound of the boats idling there, knowing that the water would be full of the fishermen’s throw-aways. And now, so many years later, they still come.

YOU GUYS! It was an actual sunken shipwreck! I die.

All of my life I’ve dreamed of swimming with manatees. They live all along the coast of Belize, but they’re transient and seasonal, so you never know if you’re going to get to see them. And man oh man, I sooo wanted to see them! Crossed all my fingers and all my toes, and then there at the very end — there they were!

There were two more stops on our trip — one to hand-feed giant tarpons, and one to visit a seahorse preserve (we saw wild seahorses!), but I didn’t take any pictures of those. Bad blogger. Sorry!

All in all, this day was absolutely magical and completely exceeded my expectations.

It was a long day in the sun with tons of swimming, and by the time our boat docked, we were utterly exhausted. Jeremy and I wandered out to the farthest point on the island, found a large stump to sit on, and watched the sun set over the Caribbean.

Perfect.

We always bring our big cast iron skillet when we camp, but we mostly reserve it for tofu scrambles and breakfast taters on the little Coleman stove. We’ve never cooked with the cast iron over an open flame, and neither of us had ever made paella before. So, paella seemed a natural choice, to finally try our hand at high-brow campfire food.

And oh boy, it was. It really really was.




Paella is perfectly suited for campfire cooking, because it’s a one-pot meal that’s actually super easy (but feels really sophisticated). But traditional paella usually includes seafood and sausage. We chose mushrooms and soyrizo to make this vegan gluten-free version, and we couldn’t have been happier with the results. It was so good!

Credit where credit is due — this recipe is very much based on this Artichoke and Poblano Paella from Fresh Off The Grid.

Ingredients
1 tablespoon olive oil
1/2 cup white rice, dry
2 cups vegetable broth
1 medium yellow onion
3 cloves garlic
2 poblano peppers
1 package cremini mushrooms
1 package soyrizo
1 can artichoke hearts
1/3 cup Tempranillo (or other dry red wine)
pinch of saffron
1/2 teaspoon salt, or to taste





Instructions
Place the cast iron skillet directly onto the grate over the campfire.

Dice the onion. Add the tablespoon of olive oil to the pan, and begin to sauté the onion.

Dice the poblanos and cremini mushrooms, and peel and crush the garlic. Add the poblano, mushroom, and garlic to the pan, and sauté until the peppers soften. Stir in 1/2 the package of soyrizo.

Add the dry rice and stir continuously for a few minutes. Once the tips of the rice begin to become translucent, add the wine. Stir and continue cooking until the wine has evaporated. Add the broth, saffron, and salt. Stir to combine all the ingredients, then allow the pan to cook undisturbed and uncovered, for 20-30 minutes.

Once the liquid is almost entirely absorbed, stir in the artichoke hearts and the other half of the soyrizo. Make sure to do this while there’s still a bit of moisture in the mix. Once everything is evenly distributed, allow the pan to continue cooking. The crispy socarrat — the best part of paella — will develop over the next few minutes. Listen for the crackling of the rice. Once you can hear it crackling, cook for 2-3 more minutes, then remove from heat.




Scrape scrape scrape and serve! The deliciously crusty bottom is best when it’s piping hot. Enjoy!

♥ ♥ ♥

Recently, I’ve been sharing photos and stories from our week-long spring break road trip adventure (part I here and part II here). It was such an incredible experience, and it really lit a fire inside me! Camping, being outside, wilderness adventures — these are some of my very favorite things. And after a long winter of hunkering down and hibernating inside, nothing feels better than untamed outdoor exploration. We’ve already done a whole other weekend camping trip with Waits, just 2 weeks after we got back from spring break. Our goal is to camp a minimum of once every month through October. *M I N I M U M*

I’m so excited!

And from the feedback I’ve been getting, y’all are just as excited as I am for camping season! I’ve continued to share my camping tips and tricks, outdoor hacks, and firepit recipes on my Instagram stories, and I’ve loved seeing all of your enthusiastic comments.

So here’s another super easy, totally delicious tried-and-true campfire recipe. Personally, I think potatoes are the perfect camping food because they’re filling and comforting after a long day of hiking or swimming or whatever it is your family likes to do in the great outdoors. Taters never fail to satisfy, and this recipe is 100% kid-approved, parent-approved, and even reader-approved. That’s right — I’ve already had a number of readers tell me they’ve made and loved this recipe!

I like to use thin-skinned potatoes, though russets will work just fine. Cut the taters into strips, roughly the size of steak fries.

Spread the potatoes on a large piece of tin foil (I actually double layered it) and add a few spoonfuls of vegan butter (coconut oil or olive oil work too, if you don’t do processed stuff).

Sprinkle the potatoes with a bit of salt and pepper, and a liberal dusting of nutritional yeast. Then, wrap it all up to make a little packet. It should be snug and well sealed.

Set the packet over the campfire. You can put it directly into the flame — you want it to get hot. Potatoes need a lot of heat to cook, so it’s okay to put it right into the flame.

Timing is tough because potatoes can be so finicky. Cook for at least 15 minutes on each side, but you may need to go 15 + minutes more after that. It all depends on the size of the potatoes and the strength of the fire.

And that’s all there is to it!

These pics are all from our camping trip in the Anza Borrego desert, which is when I first Instagrammed this recipe. But we love it so much that we made it again last weekend camping in Ojai. So trust me when I say, this simple, wholesome, no-fuss recipe does not disappoint!

♥ ♥ ♥

I love waking up in a strange place. I love seeing unfamiliar sights and smelling unfamiliar smells and feeling brand new things. I love camping and hotels and motels and cabins and lodges, I love fancy suites and I love quirky fleabags. I love driving on that endless highway. I love when a road stretches so far in front of you that it feels like it’s going to go on forever. I love campfire cooking and I love finding new vegan options at random restaurants along the way, and I even love desperate meals constructed from convenience store finds. Kettle chips, smokehouse almonds, and iced tea for the win. Truly, I love it all. I just love exploring the world so much.

On our last morning at Tamarisk Grove, Waits helped Jeremy make a fire, then scarfed down a quick breakfast before running off to say goodbye to the campground friends he’d made. I took Vesper for another skate around the loop. I gave our bouquet of daffodils to the family one site over. We broke down our tent and packed up the coolers, loaded everything into the car, and were back on the road by mid-morning.

It was day 3 of our trip and we had yet to bathe. But no worries, we were pointed towards the perfect destination: Desert Hot Springs.

The city of Desert Hot Springs is positioned at the northern tip of the Coachella Valley, and sits above two enormous, disparate aquifers — one hot, and one cold. Thus, the region includes the largest collection of natural mineral springs in all of America. And better yet, the springs are unique in that they are completely odorless. The spas in the area tap their wells directly into both aquifers, allowing them to mix hot and cold springs in various concentrations, to create warm swimming pools, cool refreshing showers, and piping hot soaking tubs. All natural.

It’s pretty incredible.

We spent the entire afternoon in the water. It was the perfect potion to wash away the layers of desert residue. It felt like breathing new life into my body.

Theres just something about those minerals, man.

That night we found a nearby vegan restaurant, brought takeout back to our hotel room, and had a picnic on the bed. We stuffed ourselves to the gills while watching a movie on the computer, then promptly passed out in a big family tangle. It was awesome.

The next morning, we were back on the road.

Our final destination that evening was a tiny truck stop hotel and casino up north, just over the border into Nevada. But we didn’t have any timeline constraining us, so we spent the day detouring through one of the prettiest places in all of California . . .

Joshua Tree is a magical place, and our day trip detour didn’t really do it justice. It’s somewhere we plan to return very soon.

But this time, we were back on the road after a few hours, heading north through the Mojave desert. The Mojave is as vast as it is extreme. It’s the driest desert in North America, and sometimes it seemed like we’d been driving for ages without seeing another car. On that afternoon drive through the Mojave desert, I wrote this little mini Love List:

1. 99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall. Jeremy and I sang the entire song, start to finish.
2. My ongoing road trip prank of covertly turning on Jeremy’s seat warmer. Waits would erupt into fits of laughter every time Jeremy realized his butt was hot.
3. Speaking of hot, Vesper hot-boxing the car with dog farts. Okay, that’s not actually something I *love*, because eww, but it was pretty freaking funny.
4. Tortoise patrol.
5. The Drawing Book of Animals by Ed Emberley. Just as good as I remembered it being when I was 8 years old.

North. Nevada. We spent the night in a strange truck stop hotel/casino. It smelled like stale cigarettes and spilled beer. It was not cute. But it was okay — the hotel wasn’t the reason we were there. It was just a convenient meeting place.

We spent the entire next day deep, deep in the heart of desert, and I’ll write about that adventure in a post all its own. In the meantime, here’s a teaser:

I can’t wait to share that adventure — soon! But suffice it to say, it was pure magic. And after a long, grueling day toiling under the desert sun, we made our way back to that same strange border town hotel. We crawled into the hot tub to soak our weary bodies, scarfed down a quick dinner, and immediately fell sleep.

The next morning we woke up late, exhausted after our long and laborious adventure in the desert. It was Friday, and it was the last scheduled day of our road trip. We had no reservations that night — no hotel and no campground.

But it was only Friday.

So we held an impromptu family meeting, and collectively decided that we were NOT ready for the fun to end. We didn’t want to go home! Instead, we packed up the car, checked out of the stinky hotel/casino, and pointed ourselves in a vaguely southwestern direction.

I drove and Jeremy scoured the internet. It was a Friday and it was spring break. Last minute bookings were not going to come easy (or cheap).

But somehow, by sheer persistence and maybe a little magic dust, Jeremy managed to find us an adorable little cabin with a full kitchen and a fireplace . . . in Big Bear. Which is the mountains! From the badlands to a the alpine, I mean why not?

It’s a good thing that wanderlust seems to run in the family . . .

Another day, another stretch of open road. Before we knew it, we were winding our way through the San Bernadino National Forest, up, up, up into the mountains.

Honestly, it was the perfect little end cap to our week of adventuring. Our cabin was cozy and clean and sweet. We were able to skate around the parking lot, take a leisurely stroll through Big Bear Village, hit a local gem shop, and of course, finally grab a quality restaurant meal.

That pic of us up there, in the Big Bear Lake Brewing Co, is pretty much the only pic of all three of us from the whole trip.

I love it, and I’m grateful we thought to snap it. Fresh air, green towering trees, great food, and my family. It was a good final night.

The mountain air felt cleansing. It seemed an appropriate place to decompress after our wild week of sand dunes, whipping wind, glaring sun — that desert feeling of being so exposed is at once both exciting and exhausting. That’s what I love about the desert, I guess. It’s just so raw. There’s nowhere to hide and it goes on forever, you feel absolute freedom and utter vulnerability. And that touches something really deep inside, something long since past. The desert gets to the heart of you, and I think that’s why the desert calls to me.

I’d like to get to the heart of me, some day.

♥ ♥ ♥

Until next time . . .

One of the most frequent questions was: what do you cook while camping?

So, during the trip, I shared campfire recipes in my Instagram stories. And then people asked me to share them here on the blog as well — so here we go! I think vegan campfire cooking is actually really easy, as long as you keep it simple and stick to what you love.

My family? We love broccoli!



Lay out a large piece of tin foil (I actually double layered it) and spread broccoli on top. Add a few cloves of rough-chopped garlic, salt, pepper, and a generous drizzle of olive oil. Tuck a few slices of lemon in there for good measure.



Wrap it all up to make a sort of tin foil tube. You don’t want it too tight since the goal is to let it steam. But it should be sealed.



Set it over the campfire. You can put it directly into the flame — don’t worry! It needs to get hot. Leave it for 8 minutes, then flip it and let it go 8 minutes more.



And that’s it! Unwrap the foil (be careful of that steam escaping) and you’re good to go. It’s so easy, but seriously delicious.

We served ours with traditional camping fare. It was perfect.



♥ ♥ ♥

For the entire last week of March, for Spring Break 2018 which happened to line up perfectly at the kiddo’s school and the University where I work, for a much needed vacation for a very busy family, and for our mutual, unadulterated love of the open road: Jeremy, Waits, Vesper, and I, went adventuring.

Six glorious days of desert exploration, 1,300 miles of criss-crossing California — from the southernmost deserts near Calexico, to the eastern reaches of the Nevada border near Las Vegas, and everywhere in between — we traversed not one, not two, not three, but FOUR National/State parks. We bouldered in Joshua Tree and we danced on beaches made of bones at the Salton Sea; we skateboard bombed campsites across Anza Borrego, and we washed away the dust in the healing mineral waters of the natural hot springs in Palm Desert; we followed a wise guide deep into the badlands, trusting her to lead us to treasure — which she did; we collected wildflowers everywhere we went and we cooked over campfires and we sang a thousand rounds of Hamilton and we slept in piles of puppies and people and it was all so indescribably perfect.

It was the best Spring Break of my life. Here’s what the first leg of our trip was like . . .

We left town early on a Sunday, which was perfect because we were heading south, and that particular Sunday just so happened to be the day of Vegan Street Fair! It was super easy to swing a detour through North Hollywood on our way out of civilization. I mean, what better way to prepare for a week away from modern luxuries, than with an everything-you-could-possibly-dream-of Food Festival??

We didn’t stay long, just an hour or two. Enough time to see some friends, stroll the length of the promenade, catch a bouncy castle, chow down on some plant-based grub, and get back on the road by early afternoon.

Leaving LA by 2 pm, we were officially on the open road. Desert bound. Ready for anything. Our trusty ancient Subaru, the same one that Jeremy has somehow been keeping alive and kicking for the last 5 years despite my constant inattention and borderline car abuse, was piled high with camping gear, coolers full of food, shovels and pickaxes (more on that later), books and games, and of course, snacks. Many snacks.

Compared to other California icons like Joshua Tree or even the Mojave, Anza Borrego isn’t a desert that gets a whole lot of attention. Which is funny, since it’s huge. Over 600,000 acres makes it the largest state park in all of California. It’s also the southernmost, with a rough and rugged terrain that’s formed primarily as the result of flash floods and rapid runoff tearing down from the surrounding Santa Rosa and San Jacinto Mountain ranges. Of all the deserts we visited, Anza Borrego definitely felt the most barren.

We reached our camp (nestled amidst a grove of Tamarisk trees — they taste salty, you better believe I tasted them!) in the early evening, and immediately Jeremy and I began to get set up.

As we had made our way through the campground, Waits had seen a number of kids hanging around various sites. So as soon as we parked, he bounded out of the car hollering “I’M GONNA GO PLAY WITH THOSE KIDS OKAY BYEEEEEE” and I have to tell you, that was one of my favorite things about the whole trip. I don’t know how it is where you live, but in this day and age, in southern California, you don’t just let your kids run off unsupervised to make friends with strangers. It’s just not something parents in the city do.

So watching him get to experience that reminded me so much of my wild latchkey childhood, and I was thrilled that he finally got to feel that kind of freedom. He made great connections with a couple of kids — those kinds of friendships that only last a few days but really make an impact. It’s such an important part of childhood, I think.

Vesper was full of energy after a day in the car, so Jeremy continued to set up camp while I did the only thing that made sense, obvi.

Half a dozen laps around the campground and she was tuckered out. It was actually the first time I’d taken her skating, and I was so pleased to find that she loved it! She ran alongside me and sometimes even pulled, which makes sense considering her breed. Now I’m really looking forward to more skateboard adventures with this perfect pooch.

The rest of the night was campfire cooking (I’ll be posting vegan camping recipes, coming soon), hot chocolate and marshmallows, starry latenight excursions, tempestuous winds that threatened to tear apart our camp (seriously!), and a tiny tent filled up to the top with cuddles.

But I didn’t take any pictures of any of that.

I love mornings around camp. I think it may be my favorite part of camping — how the air is so cold and the world is so quiet. You can hear every clink as you prepare the coffee, and work to build a fire. Your lips are dry and you can feel the layer of grime covering your skin, but for some reason it all feels sort of lovely. The fire is warm and there’s too much smoke, but it’s okay. You pull up a chair and sip your coffee and listen to the world slowly waking up: birds singing, people mumbling across the campground, children beginning to holler. Eventually, the smells of many breakfasts wafting through. The sun rises higher and the world starts to warm. Suddenly, you realize you can peel off one of the many layers you’re wearing.

I *love* that.

We hit the road for a day trip after breakfast, with a vague notion of where we were headed. I’d always wanted to visit the Salton Sea . . .

But Anza Borrego is vast, and we were in no hurry. We made our way through the desert landscape, stopping to marvel at the many changing topographies, everything from washed-out flash flood ravines, to giant fanning bajadas, to the seemingly endless plains dotted with short, fat chollas and tall, spindly, flame-tipped ocotillos.

I fell in love with those ocotillos.





Eventually we wound our way east, through the desert, towards the sea.

The Salton Sea is a very large, very shallow, very saline lake located directly on top of the San Andreas Fault line. It’s the largest lake in California, but the surface of the water sits hundreds of feet below sea level. It’s saltier than the Pacific Ocean.

During the 1950s, there was a push to build resort-style housing and developments along the shores of the Salton Sea, to create a sort of “Desert Oasis” tourist draw. Hundreds of homes were erected in small planned communities with names like Salton City, Desert Shores, and Bombay Beach. Sadly, the pervasive agricultural runoff created a highly-polluted lakefront. The noxious smell and rising salinity all but erased any hope of a fishing and leisure industry. Entire towns have been abandoned, leaving behind the strange, skeletal remains of a 1950s promise.

It’s not a hospitable place, but then again — what did they expect in the desert?

These photos were all taken along the western shoreline. It was so eerie being there.

We made our way from the southern edge of the western shores, up north, around the top near the Coachella valley, and back down along the eastern shores. The eastern side of the lake is very different, with multiple State Park Service Areas designated for recreation. Despite the lack of tourism, the Salton Sea still generates a lot of interest, mostly from ecologists who study the handful of salt-tolerant creatures who call it home.

It’s still not particularly hospitable.























That day, we drove the entire perimeter of the lake, then back across the desert to our happy grove of Tamarisk trees. At camp, we settled in for the evening, for another round of campfire cooking and hot chocolate and star gazing.

♥ ♥ ♥

To be continued . . .

Last week Waits turned SEVEN, which meant that it was once again time for our annual, full-family pilgrimage to the Mouse House, for an exciting, exhausting, fun-filled adventure at the Happiest Place On Earth™.

We came. We saw. We held onto our hats for the wildest ride in the wilderness!

This year, for the first time, we had another kiddo with us. Waits brought his best friend Weston (“the two double yoos”, they say), and wow it was so super awesome! They got along great and kept each other company and the whole day was so amazingly and unexpectedly smooth and easy and huzzah! A success!

Alas, our favorite ride (Pirates of the Caribbean) was closed for repairs, and The Matterhorn was closed as well. But otherwise we hit all the important stuff — Star Tours and Splash Mountain and Haunted Mansion and Thunder Mountain and Indiana Jones and Jungle Cruise (cringe) and even that little roller coaster in Toon Town.

It also rained (briefly), and that was a first. Not that it put a damper on our fun. If anything, the weather kept the lines short!

And we’ve definitely got the “being-vegan-at-Disneyland” thing down, with the perfect mix of not-too-heavy staples that we bring in our back packs, and knowing all the delicious vegan eats around the park. We did most of our eating on park-bought food this year, and it was great! I think after next year’s 5th trip, I’ll finally be ready to write my *comprehensive* Vegan Guide To Disneyland post.

Disneyland is a place that’s made for escapism, but this trip always feels like the opposite of that, for our family. Our little, but not-so-little, family, which looks so very different from the other families there at the park. This trip is about connection, and celebration of us. And mostly, of that one little person who keeps us four adults bound to one another with unbreakable love-glue. It’s a celebration of Waits, and a recommitting of the pledge we made to him: To always be a family. To give him stability and support and a strong foundation, in spite of our strange circumstances.

So as always, as I write this post, I am feeling full to my top with gratitude. For my open-minded and open-hearted co-parents. For Damian and for Danielle and for Jeremy. Waits sure is a lucky kid, to have so many people who love him so very much.

So *cheers*, Disney. Until next year!

♥

Seven years I’ve made this pilgrimage. The first year, driving down from Portland, I was newly pregnant with Waits, and my sister in law was very, very pregnant with her own little boy. Waits and his cousin Sean were born 6 months apart, to the day.

Those first few years I drove down from the north, from Portland. Sometimes Damian joined me, and some years he couldn’t. The last time he did was during that year I quit blogging. The summer before we separated.

After we moved back down to Santa Barbara, we would fly up from the south — my dad and Waits and I. We did that for a couple of years. And then, of course, Jeremy began joining us. His first year at the farm house was during our epic 3-week camping road trip adventure. There were 3 wildfires burning in Shasta that year, surrounding us.




There is something so special to me about this annual journey. Returning. Reconnecting. It marks time and it highlights change and it also keeps us grounded. It feels important.

Seasons. Transitions. Cycles.

Same creaky steel-bottom boat. Same stained wooden floors. Same looming, immovable mountain watching over our changing family. Changing faces. Growing children and greying hair. Everything is different, and also everything is the same.

Here’s how it went, this year:

So we left Santa Barbara in the evening, around 5. The car was packed with suitcases and snacks, crafts and books and games and gadgets. Immediately, we were off to a good start. We stopped for dinner after a few hours, and were back on the road by 8 pm. The plan was to let Waits drift off in the car, and then keep driving until after midnight, so we could cover a lot of ground while he was blissfully unaware.

And it worked. The moon was unimaginably huge that night, full and blood red, hanging in the sky above the empty endless swath of scrub brush that stands between the 101 and the i5 in central California. It was pitch black outside the car, and I put on an audiobook of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. Waits curled up in the back seat, wrapped in his velvet Gryffindor robe, clutching his magic wand, and slipped off into dream land.

We woke up in some crappy motel just north of Silicon Valley. Harry Potter was there.

And thus, we were back on the road bright and early. Paper crafts kept us entertained. Specifically, Minecraft free printable 3-D paper crafts.




Seriously, to my fellow parents of small children: free printable paper crafts OH MY GOD. It’s like free toys, kids love them just as much as “real” toys, and putting them together is a great way to pass the time (and also build art/construction skills). Seriously. Check them out.

Quick pit stop (oh so punny!) at my favorite i5 roadside attraction!

And a light lunch out on the patio.




Back on the road for a few more hours, and then before we knew it, we were there!

Same empty fields and endless sky . . .

2016 was definitely the Year of the Jawbreaker.




As per tradition, that first night we ate dinner at my brother’s restaurant. But of course!

Waits watching his uncle at work:

Amazing, every last bite.

The next day I woke up early for a quiet breakfast alone by the river.




And honestly, the rest of the trip was just family, and nature, and more nature, and more family, and it was perfect. A perfect late summer getaway.

I’ll let the photos speak for themselves.

It was just about as good as I could have hoped for, and I can’t wait to do it all over again. Next year, and the year after that, and the year after that. Maybe someday Waits will bring his own babies there, and I’ll be the old granny, winking at that mountain, watching as everything changes . . . and also everything stays the same.

♥

This March, for Waits’s sixth birthday (AHEM WHAT!!!?) and for the third year in a row, our little vegan family went adventuring to worship at the altar of the Mouse. And this time, it wasn’t just Waits and Damian and I. No, we are a thoroughly modern family these days, and our little family has grown, and lucky wee Waits Rebhal is just completely surrounded by grown-ups who love him. And each other.




And would you believe that this was Jeremy’s very first Disneyland adventure, ever?? I know!

So for me, it was a double whammy of Disney glee: watching Waits bask in the absolute joy that is Disneyland-through-the-eyes-of-a-six-year-old, and also, finally sharing this incredibly nostalgic piece of my history with the man I love. I grew up going to Disneyland and I have a memory for every inch of that theme park. And getting to share all that with Jeremy — Pirates Of The Caribbean and The Haunted mansion and Star Tours and all the sights and sounds and fun — well that was just extra magical.

And it was also such a treasure for us to get to share this day with Damian and Danielle. We see them pretty often, but always in the passing chaos and daily life. We hadn’t spent any real quality time with them since Christmas day, so it was really lovely, and of course always so special for Waits, that we were all able to be together.

That kiddo had one heck of an adventure-filled, excitement-filled, and love-filled day!

And I fully recognize that it’s something worth acknowledging. Worth stopping, and taking a breath, and feeling grateful. I am so thankful that we have achieved this happy, healthy, non-traditional-but-totally-functional, thoroughly modern family. So thankful.





And, as always, we should talk about the food. Being vegan at Disney is actually pretty easy (although being gluten-free vegan is considerably harder), and every year I learn a little bit more. I think next year my goal will be to bring zero food along with us, and solely rely on the park’s offerings to provide us with our meals.

But for this year, I took the easy way out and packed a back-up plan. We still ate plenty of park food mind you, because when in Rome. But I did bring the old stand-bys: hummus and crackers and carrot sticks and apples and Larabars.

Oh, and I brought baked tofu. LOTS of baked tofu.




But despite my healthy and wholesome snack-packing, we also managed to procure a selection of delectable vegan treats. As it should be.

Damian and Waits and Jeremy each got a Mickey pretzel, for example (all of the Mickey pretzels sold throughout the park are vegan):





And as far as I’m concerned, no trip to Disney is complete without a giant Kosher dill pickle (why are they sooooo good??):




That got us through the afternoon with plenty of energy for adventuring!





Later that day I finally got my Dole Whip, after 3 years of waiting and wanting (the lines were always so long). Totally vegan, guys! A super-sized spiral of frozen pineapple glory:




And Damian and Danielle finally tried some of the real “hot meal” vegan options: Vegetarian Gumbo in a sourdough bread bowl. “Accidentally vegan” and according to them, it was really good!




The truth is, Disneyland offers lots of hot food vegan – and even gluten-free vegan – options, like chili, and veggie/tofu skewers, and pancakes (gluten-free!) and more. I just mostly hate waiting in lines and paying out the nose for potentially-mediocre food. But next year? Next year I’m going to take the gamble. Mark my words!

But really, that’s not what this trip is about. I couldn’t care less about what we’re eating, when it really comes down to it. Because this annual adventure is so much more than a vegan food tour.

This is about our family. It’s about a commitment to our child, and to giving him the cohesive, supportive, and integrated family that he deserves. A chance to re-connect, and remind ourselves of that promise we made 4 year ago, when we told him, “We’re still a family. It just looks different now.”

And we are. And I am proud of us, for that.




So cheers – to many more Disney years!

♥