Jaci Dawn

You need a mean sense of humor.

You have to have thick skin.

Pack extra panties.

Friday morning we all loaded up into different cars and headed north up the coast. First stop: the lighthouse at Cape Meares. Follow that with the Tillamook Cheese Factory and the Tillamook Air Museum.

That was the plan.

I get car sick so I always get the front seat. Someone once suggested I keep a stash of Dramamine for riding in the car? I dead-panned with, “Why would I do that? I get car sick; I get the front seat. I don’t get car sick; I ride in back. Car sickness has its perks.”

I got the front seat with cousin Cheryl driving.

Cousin Patti had control of the GPS. She sat in the second seat and played with the controls until we were driving a Monster Truck and the GPS had the sexy Australian male voice of someone named “Lee”. We changed Lee’s name to “Mick” because it sounded more Australian. Probably had nothing to do with Mick “Crocodile” Dundee.

Mick continually reminded us when we missed a potential turn to Cape Meares.

“Recalculating,” he would say politely. “Turn left on Bay Oh-see-an Drive.”

Bay what? Oh-see-an. you know: Australian computer for Ocean.

We turned left on Bay Oh-see-an Drive behind the rest of our party. We made certain we had our load secured (the signs beside the road warned us to) when we began the climb up to the point the lighthouse sits on.

The lighthouse has been vandalized but it still is an interesting landmark, the volunteer staff was wonderful, and the day was a perfect summer day on the Oregon Coast; the fog burned off and the wind hadn’t started.Cormorants called to each other from flocks floating on blue water. A sea lion played in the waves. We looked through telescopes at tidal pools. Some of us spent a little money stimulating the Oregon economy and purchased trinkets in the gift shop.

Then we headed back to Highway 101 and, eventually, Tillamook.

Mick couldn’t find the cheese factory. We just followed the car in front of us. They turned right when they should have turned the other right. We drove out to the Air Museum instead of the cheese factory. We turned around. Mick now knew where the cheese factory was and started recalculating.

I’ll skip the cheese factory: all of Portland was packed inside the building, there was only a self-guided tour, the lines to the lunch counter were almost out the doors, the aroma of cow manure and ice cream was overwhelming outside, you could not have a personal bubble inside the building, it was noisy and there were too many people.The elderly among us opted out and went to Denny’s for lunch (elderly=over 80).

I headed straight for the ice cream line and got myself a mint chocolate-chip ice cream cone. Then I looked around for the rest of the family.

They were in line behind me.

We ate ice cream and left. Scratch that off of my “to-do” list forever.

I was with Cousins Cheryl, Patti, Wendy and Janis. Patti, Wendy & Pegi are all accomplished seamstresses and quilters. Everyone else headed to the Air Museum; we headed to the Latimer Quilt & Textile Museum.

Pegi, both aunts and Uncle Bob caught up with us at the quilt museum. Uncle bob is a saint: he didn’t want to go to the quilt museum; he wanted to go to the air museum. His wife of 59 years wanted to go to the quilt museum. He took her to the quilt museum. What a guy.

It was a very cool museum and we coerced some guy into taking a group photo of all of us that went.

Then we went to the air museum. I would have liked to have gone in but my ride was not interested. That’s OK: I know I can get Don to go down there with me and we can do it together and that would be a whole lot more sun for me. My ride wanted to get back onto Highway 101 with Mick and search for a grocery store.

Nevermind that we just drove by a Fred Meyer in Tillamook. That was back towards the cheese factory and the quilt museum. No looking back: we were going to let Mick find us a grocery store on the way back to Pacific City. We wanted one large enough to have a bakery where we could purchase a cake for Uncle Bob & Aunt Phyl’s 59th wedding anniversary. Did I just mention we passed a Fred Meyer in Tillamook?

That’s OK: Mick apparently didn’t catch the significance, either and began calculating the distance to the next corner grocery/bait shop between Tillamook and Lincoln City (24 miles on the other side of Pacific City from Tillamook). I happen to know where the Safeway is in Lincoln City. But it was much more fun to let Mick give directions.

Mick had a sexy Australian voice. And he told us where every store in every small town was. Sadly, the store in Cloverdale was closed so we had to head for the store in Hebo. And that was where Mick failed us entirely.

If you read my blog, you know how I feel about relying on GPS for directions. And you know how I feel about venturing out with only a GPS and no paper map to guide you. Yet here I was with my cousins, enjoying the front seat, letting Mick the Australian Voice GPS tell us where to go in my own backyard, the Oregon Coast.

Hey, I don’t get out often.

Mick said to turn left in Hebo. As we turned left, I saw the market/bait shop on the right. And Mick immediately began recalculating. He told us to turn left at the next intersection.

It looked like a private drive. But Mick insisted we go straight .35 miles and turn right.

“He’s turning us around!” some bright soul cried out.”

Someone cued “Dueling Banjos”.

Cheryl pulled into the driveway of an abandoned garage. Cheryl started laughing so hard she had an asthma attack. We all started laughing so hard we peed our panties. Did I mention we now had two more bodies in the car? Ellen & Heather had joined us. Ellen and Heather are young and don’t know what incontinence is. The rest of us wished we were old enough for Depends.

Some guy in a pick-up truck came down the road and stared at us. He drove on by.

When Cheryl could finally breathe and drive again, we turned around (how hard was it to say “Turn Around Here”, Mick? How hard?). We did not stop at the bait shop in Hebo.

Cousin Janis suggested the grocery store in Pacific City might have what we needed.

“There’s a grocery store in Pacific City?” Cheryl intoned.

Well, yes. There is. We drove by it on our way to Cape Meares in the morning…

We didn’t get a bakery cake, but we got a nice cake at the Pacific City store. Happy 59th Aunt Phyllis & Uncle Bob! Love birds.

P.S. – Uncle Bob got to see the Air Museum. Aunt Phyllis waited for him.