Days 1-3: Spencer Spit State Park - San Juan Islands

The ferry out to Lopez Island

The open road...

Some adventures you can plan.  

If you have a high enough vantage point, you can see beyond the horizon. The days open themselves to you like the pages of a oft-read book, and you know how the story will end before you've even finished the first chapter.

And so you step out, confident and assured, because you've seen the future, and you know exactly how each day will unfold.

This was not that trip.

In the beginning: a seemingly happy and well-caffinated family

To begin with, some of our children apparently missed the memo about our little jaunt to the San Juans. Never mind that we'd held countless family meetings to go over the details. Never mind that we'd showed them pictures of our destination and had described all the nifty things they'd get to do. Never mind that they'd packed their own clothes and prepared their own travel bags. When it came time to leave, two of the three Delamarter offspring were:

1. surprised;
2. incredulous;
3. aghast.

At the first opportunity, they tried to escape, a plan thwarted only by the shortness of their tree, and the prospect of uninterrupted and unavoidable family time began to lose a little bit of its luster. Delamarters are a ridiculously stubborn breed, and when one of us makes up his or her mind not to have a good time, there's not a darn thing that anyone can do about it.

Except for Nerf-gun target practice on the beach, that is. It's our kryponite.

With family unity momentarily restored, we headed out to Spencer Spit State Park on Lopez Island. For those of you who don't know, Lopez is one of the San Juan Islands that dot the waters between Canada's Vancouver Island and Washington state's Puget Sound. They're roughly 70 miles north of Seattle, and they are considered by some to be the jewels in Washington's crown. 

Not sure why the Skagit River is highlighted here. Blame Google.

San Juan Island is perhaps best known as the site of one of the most gruesome and noble battles in all of American history.  Orcas Island has a rather large state park that hosts an annual (and rather nasty) ultra-marathon. Tracey and I have camped there before. It's glorious. 

But we'd never been to Lopez, which is the island closest to the mainland. The ferry ride is a mere 40 minutes, which is barely long enough to get out of the car, go up top, go back down to the car to get your jacket, and head back up to see the view. 

So what did we do once we got there? Rather than give you a long and boring narrative, I'm going to let the pictures do the talking:

We flirted. Successfully, I might add.

We built forts in the sand.

We warded off aliens with tin-foil hats. 

We realized that dogs can get probed, too.

We flirted some more. This one was less successful.

We sat around on the beach and did nothing.

We paid $1.00 to enterprising local kids who were charging a flat fee to hold their chickens. 

We sat around the fire. We threw things in the fire. We cooked breakfast, dinner, and dessert over the fire. Mostly, though, we just sat around the fire.

We spent time together, whether we wanted to or not.

We didn't work.

We took the dog for morning runs in places like this.

We fell asleep with the dog on our lap on the way home. 

So this is what we did. It's not really what I thought we would do, nor is it what the kids thought we would do (Lucas somehow convinced himself that we would be fighting crocodiles and sharks simultaneously). It ended up being pretty great, though. We came back a little sunburned and crusty, and our clothes still smell like campfire. Though it may not have been what we expected, it turned out to be what we needed. 

A hint of things to come

Ten days. That's all we have. Ten days to set the world on fire and break out of our collective rut.

We're sticking to three basic principles as we plan our adventures:

1) It has to be local (within 100 miles)
2) It has to be cheap (we have a total budget of $500 for the whole 10 days)
3) It has to be something we've never done/someplace we've never gone before

Here's an example of one of our upcoming adventures! I don't want to tell you too much, because I'm going to make the kids write the whole thing up after it's all done, and you'll want to read it. Still, here's a picture to whet your appetite:

I found this picture on the internet. It made me want to go to there. 

We don't know fully what to expect (which is part of the adventure), but we know it'll involve boats. And, if this picture is any indicator, it may involve deer. We'll have to discover the rest in real time.

It started with a plan

Actually, it started with three kids who wouldn't stop playing video games. Or maybe it started with a dad who had spent too many hours at work staring at a computer. Or maybe it was the mom who was sick and tired of cleaning up after everyone else. It doesn't really matter, because it all boils down to this:

We need a break.

This is us. We're the Delamarters.

Note the crazy eyes. For the record, we all have them, but some of us hide them better than others. 

This is a picture of us at the airport. We're not going anywhere, though. We're picking someone up. That's right: we're the chauffeurs for other people's adventures.

But not for much longer, because, for ten days this August, we are embarking on a series of epic, internet-breaking, life-changing, tighten-your-belt-and-hold-on-to-your-hat adventures, and we're doing it all without going more than 100 miles from home. In fact, a few of these adventures will be right in our own back yard.

Mom and dad are planning most of the fun, but each kid is responsible for planning one day. That includes preparing meals, budgeting, making reservations, everything. And, we're going to be chronicling the whole thing on this blog, because what's the point of having an amazing summer if you can't throw it in people's faces?

So stay with us, but be prepared for the bright glow of our awesomeness to melt your screens. The fun begins in August!