Labor? hardly.

For Labor Day wknd we decided to get out of the heat and cross a few things off my 'Before 30' to-do list, so we went to Patrick's Point Sate Park. As the Labor Day holiday is the most popular camping weekend of the year and also P. Point's last open weekend of the season, the campground was booked solid. Advance planning had allowed for us to get a spot on Friday night, but the rest of the weekend was undetermined. We went anyway, figuring a site might open up or we could get a hotel room or camp illegally somewhere. We left after work, squished Peter into the back seat, and wiggled our way through the mountains and bizarro mountain towns, all the while watching the temperature click down little by little.


When we arrived the good Rostens had erected our tent 'neath the trees and we got settled into vacationing. The brown-clad folk at the park entrance told us that, no, no spots had opened up for Saturday night yet, but to check back in the morning. Got the fire going and discussed weighty and light matters, then attempted sleep. (the ground had the audacity to be hard) Saturday morning Josh made pancakes like a champ and we checked with the rangers again: no spots. Went for a walk through the moss and trees and general Ewok-y land. Saw Wedding Rock, decided to have future weddings there. Came back for lunch and to break camp because we had to be out by noon, decided to check again for any spots, promising the Rangers cookies if they hooked us up. Turns out a lady who should never have been camping in the first place decided that her beachside campsite in Northern California at the onset of the rainy season was too damp. (again, mother nature and her audacity) Believe it or not, this 'camper' had a poodle with her. Rangers moved her to shut her up and gave us her spot. Yay! Rather than take down our tents and put them back up again, we emptied them and tossed them on top of our cars, held on out the windows, and drove through the trees (and cheers from other campers) to our new home at site #112.

Joined up with s'Moores and went down to Agate Beach for lunch and general treasure hunting. i chose driftwood, Josh chose agates. (We still don't know what agates look like, but we hunted 'em.) We saw a seal playing in the surf. i think it was playing Freeze Tag. Or Kick the Can. Then, shopping and dinner at the Lost Coast Brewery in Eureka and a trip to Target for an air mattress. What? We never said we were hardcore. That firenight included the ever-daunting 'Name Your Top 5 Movies Ever' and a shifty raccoon who tried to supplement his own coony fiesta by stealing our Chex Party Mix. How do i know he was shifty? He was WEARING A MASK. We slept much better that night, what with the mattress and it NOT being damp. At all. Whatsoever. Foreverandeveramen.

Sunday we subscribed to the Emily Dickinson Liturgical System and got our Sabbath on with walks through the redwoods and fern canyon, aka Creeptastic Alley, or The Land That Time Forgot Except To Build The Occasional Stairway Or Erect Educational Podiums. Seriously folks, there's no better place on earth if you want to feel Small and Awesome. i think that whole 'He leadeth me beside still waters' was written for this part of the globe. Speaking of waters, on the way to Le Canyon we had to drive over raging rivers in our SUVs. Some would call them mere streams, or elongated puddles, but as my car has rarely done anything remotely resembling 'off-road', i prefer to revel in the validation that it drove through the trees and forged waterways.

On the way back to wherever we were going, we saw a pod/herd/school/pride/clique of whales breaching, flashing heads/tails/fins/toes and spewing. Again, feelings of Small and Awesome.
Next Josh and i packed up our share of the campsite because i had to work Monday, Jesse, Lyn and Pete handed over GingerCat cookies (for humans) to the Ranger to ensure another night of campsitedness and we headed to That One Nameless Beach for dinner and sunset. Apple saursages and bell peppers: good for your soul. Josh carved his everlasting declaration of love for me in the sand. Let's just say that by the time he got to the "KM" the "I" was already a blurry victim of the tide. Permanency is overrated anyway. i fell and scraped my hand in the tidepools and was therefore convinced my body would be overtaken by barnacles in my sleep and i'd look like that one guy/thing in Pirates II. As of yet, i don't. Keep watch, though. When the sun set, we left. To say we did so reluctantly would be like saying...i don't know, something dumb or outrageous.

Ah yes, and i am able to cross 2 things off my list: i introduced someone (Josh) to Patrick's Point, and i successfully skipped stones. 18 more to go.

If you're thinking 'Wow, some of these pictures are downright amazing!' it's because i poached Jesse and Lyn's when necessary. Check 'em out, especially if you've never been to The Point.

There are few perfect weekends. This was one.