Chapter Three: Show Me the Money

Even the best-planned vacation can go awry. Of course, this trip did not start out as a vacation. Vince worked as a realtor full-time. I worked part-time in my position with the California Council for the Social Studies.

I hope you will come away from this series with an appreciation for the role of vacation mishaps that slow you down and help you enjoy the trip. Nothing is perfect, especially when traveling, but there is always something to learn and enjoy along the way.

This series was edited in 2024. As a new blogger in 2013, I wrote all ten posts in the third person. My pictures had never been processed, and some were not compelling. It had great bones, and I wanted to preserve the story as a travelogue.

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“I learned a long time ago that trying to micromanage the perfect vacation is always a disaster. That leads to terrible times.”

Anthony Bourdain

The Oregon Dunes KOA advertised on its website, “Off-road vehicles are in/out of the campground from 8 a.m. to 10 p.m. If this sounds exciting, then this is the place for you!”

“I rented ATVs with Jason once,” Vince said as I entered the living room. “Mine broke down. It seems like I had to do a lot of walking. We ended up with dust everywhere.  It’s really fun, though.  Jason wanted to go every weekend. ATVs can be dangerous, though.  You have to be really careful where you go.”

“It sounds like you enjoyed yourself,” I said, sipping my morning coffee laced with a chocolate protein drink.

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At this point, we still didn’t know that our “adventure” might be headed for disaster. Since this was not officially a vacation, we declined the $45 per hour fee to enjoy racing each other around on ATVs. Instead, driving north 30 miles to window shop, photograph, and eat in Florence or 20 miles south to Coos Bay to get more work done on the truck was easy. 

Coos Bay

Of course, the truck needed a new hitch and mirrors to be legal and safe in Oregon. Vince had already spent about $3,000 on the truck before he left home, making sure that belts and hoses were current and the brakes were in good repair.

Vince arrived at Porter’s in Coos Bay, Oregon, before 8:00 a.m. For $500, they fixed the truck, and we were on our way, assured that our truck was in the best possible shape it could be. 

“Even if we have to buy a new motor, it’s only about $5,000,” he assured me. 

I gave him my “teacher” look. So far in our marriage, that look has not been any more effective in curbing Vince’s project spending than it would have been in convincing elementary kids to play silently on the playground. 

Florence

We had time to check out the Myrtlewood Factory next door to the Oregon Dunes KOA. Myrtlewood is a dense hardwood unique to the southern Oregon Coast. The rare wood makes highly prized kitchen bowls, spoons, and cutting boards. The factory housed Myrtlewood furniture as well. I’ve seen Myrtlewood coffee tables and bowls laced with Turquoise. Simple bowls sell for over $200. Faced with so many choices of what to buy, it was easier to make no choice.

The two days in Reedsport flew by taking care of business. We had time to roam the streets, take pictures, and enjoy the best of the Southern Oregon Coast’s food and beverages.

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The truck was finally outfitted properly. Vince was still optimistic in spite of the toilet. He rolled away from our first campground in the ATV country of the Oregon Dunes with confidence. Soon it was time to check out of the KOA Campground and head back to Central Oregon. Everything detail checked out. He was ready to tow his new trailer through the twisty turns of the California Redwood Highway 101.

However, the bad smell in the trailer had not improved as it aired. The toilet used a foot pedal to flush it. When we stepped on it, the smell hissed out, and the flap didn’t close properly. If we lifted the foot pedal after emptying the tank, the little lid closed tighter. Either way, the toilet emitted an enduring, foul-smelling burp as though it didn’t know what large quantities of freshener had been poured down its gullet.

We’d worry about that later.

Towing a trailer we had planned to stop along the way and go a little slower, but only in the interest of safety, not a vacation. We were headed back home with no incidents to report.

We hadn’t driven far when the odometer turned 155,555 miles. Vince snapped a picture on his iPhone while I took the wheel. I immediately texted our friends an illegal, blurry picture with the caption, “And still going strong.”

Have you ever bragged when you shouldn’t have? At 12:30 on September 14, 2013, our accidental vacation was just about to begin.

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