Big Bear

We loaded up sweaters, hats, boots, warm jammies, bedtime books, snacks and games and drove northeast to the mountains. It was Friday afternoon, warm and yellow at the coast, but once we reached the hill country the air turned brisk and the sky grew white and grayish. Once we started to ascend the mountain pass toward our destination of Big Bear Lake, a thick fog crept in and all around us and we couldn't see the height of even the lowest foothills as we wound our way upward. The evening quickly turned into night and the fog became the heaviest we'd ever seen. Traversing the two-lane road was treacherous for sure. N could barely make out the center-line reflectors and could see no further than 10 feet in front of him for most of the drive. The usually two-and-a-half-hour drive soon became closer to six hours of white-knuckled driving and keeping two little children from going stir crazy. Just five miles from our destination, C started bawling. Then came the vomit. We pulled over, cleaned up and carried him around in the crisp nighttime air for a few minutes and strapped him back in for the rest of the slow, uphill crawl. Moments later, L popped the last segments of an orange into her mouth and almost immediately got sick, too. More vomit. Another brief stop for clean-up and finally everyone felt fine and we headed into Big Bear Village and to our cabin.

Once we arrived, vacation started to feel wonderful. We shared a cozy cabin with great friends, stayed up late, cooked together, played in the snow, slid down icy slopes atop flabby rubber innertubes, laughed a lot and just relaxed. It was such refreshment for our whole family.