Montana or Bust

My family began traveling to Montana for family re-cations (that's reunion and vacation together) when I was about 8-9 but it is NEVER to early to start that awesome trip. Alden's lucky to get going at 3! We departed in early August for our first big family road trip, camping trip, family reunion on my mother's side. Our destination was Whitefish, Montana in 2 days. My oldest sister and some of her friends were already on a train, there were folks coming in from Pittsburg, and even Abu Freaking Dhabi. This was big. We met up with my mom, middle sister and her boyfriend at a camp ground just over the Washington state border on the Columbia River. We had traveled a mere 5 hours whereas Merritt and Joe had flown into Portland from Austin, TX. My mom swooped them up and away they drove. Sounds like a great opening scene from The Big Race.

This is what three marshmallows look like in a three year old mouth. More out than in.

Planning the journey north to Whitefish where, as mom said pointedly several times, our pivotal point was Elmo, Montana. ELMO. She said it, like, a billion times. I then teased her for the entire way to Elmo. 

Elmo.

Squint and you can see that we are Big Sky Country, indeed, where buffalo burgers roam and huckleberry milkshakes are as common as cowboy hats.

Elmo? 

We survived and promptly got right down to having fun. As much fun as you can have when trying to coordinate 19 people with different naps times, food requirements, and ideal of rapid rise. On the awesome side, I learned how to put in a new kind of baby seat and that my Aunt Jill is my soothing tonic in times of family slowness crisis. She talked me down without ever calling me out for being a time freak. 

Alden was interested in Cole and maybe a little jealous that he'd be sharing the lime light that has been his for nearly 2 years now. They were fun to watch together. And it was even more fun to watch all of us watching them. It's like we'd never seen children before. 

Well, certainly not ones that are so friggin' handsome and squishy.

Barf. And awesome.

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Every time I got to Whitefish, I somehow manage to NOT jump in the lake every day. Or at all. Not this year. We jumped in several times and with gusto. Alden was fearless at the end of the dock jumping into mine or cousin Emma's arms. She was a natural with him. 

We all spent many hours in the early morning light or in the fading evening light on this porch. Eating, drinking; talking, laughing. At one point, there were 27 of us out on this deck celebrating the tremendous privilege of family. 

Half of the pair that started it all. This is Grandma Shirley (or G-Shirl) luxuriating in the happy chaos that she and Grandpa Alden started all of those years ago here in Montana.

There is ALWAYS time for face painting. 

This was a short but fun day at spent at the Huckleberry Festival in the down town area. 

After we departed from Whitefish (along with most of the other family), Dustin, Alden, and I began our solo family portion of the trip. Three days of driving back to southern Oregon cut with 2 days of camping.

We got as far as Hot Springs, Montana when we stopped for lunch and a dip. 

Nothing like hot tubbin' in the summer. It must be in my Finnish blood to always be warm. Must. Sauna. 

If you've ever watched the movie Cars than you'd understand why Alden asked when we pulled up, "Are we in Radiator Springs?" This little run down town in the middle of NoWheresville is very similar.

We camped that night in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho on the lake. It was off the beaten path but so beautiful.

Costing just a few dollars more to NOT set up a tent, we opted for this luxe little cabin complete with bunk beds. This place had everything from swimming pools to paddle boats to movie rentals. Odd for camping but I can totally see the appeal for families. EASY.

The next morning, we continued on to Bend, Oregon when we camped quite oppositely. We set up in a dusty dirty patch in the dark in some RV park. Not ideal but fun in a different way. Alden likes to camp and loves Montana. For a while after, he insisted that we lived in Grants Pass, Montana. The trees aren't nearly as huge and the sky isn't as expansive here, but for the fun that we manage to make on our own, I can see where he's getting that idea.