Thursday, July 29, 2010
Wednesday, July 28th
Just in case you were wondering, the title refers solely to my clumsiness, not any illegal drug usages...
Lazy Morning Relaxations
The sun arose unnoticed in room 06-109. Those damn drapes blocked every drop of sunlight, meaning that the Porter children did not awake til about midday. After a very healthy breakfast at a nearby fast-food joint, we go to check out the pool.
Correction: pools. And the miles and miles of beach chairs that were filled with what appeared to be beached whales. Seriously, these people should NOT be wearing itsy bitsy teeny weeny yellow polka dot bikinis. Though the opened mouthed snoring lady next to us was very entertaining.
Word on the street was that the pool was ice cold, even though outside temperatures were close to 110 degrees. So yeahhh, I was a wimp and didn’t even go into the water. But hey, I wasn’t the one complaining about the heat. It felt perfect outsideto me :D
The Tribute to Excess
Strolling along Las Vegas Blvd, we all saw the tributes to excess, like the Coca-Cola store, the M&M store, etcetera etcetera. Basically it was a whole street full of stores selling things that people will never need in a million years. A giant statue of a M&M?! Where is that supposed to go? Next to that life sized stuffed teddy bear you won at the State Fair? Yeah, really chic interior decoration.
I still don’t think anything can beat the giant plastic guitars that people wear around their necks that are filled beer. Soooo tacky. However, I will say that I enjoyed walking along the Strip. Lots of fun people watching and people dressed up in great costumes. And it still cracks me up that they have a giant this:
And still need to put a sign up on it saying Eiffel Tower. Just in case.
The front of the Bellagio also had a ginormous choreographed fountain performance set to music, which was great. And plus, it was the Bellagio! You know, site of Ocean’s Eleven? (or was it Thirteen?). That movie made me seriously consider becoming a criminal mastermind. Hmm…changing the subject.
The highlight the night was FINALLY getting a clear picture of Caesar’s Palace. I mean not only was it the site of the infamous Hangover, but after taking about 20 blurry pictures, nothing is more satisfying than finally getting a clear, crisp one. NOTHING, I TELL YOU. And I was just about to start impaling passerby with their plastic beer guitars…
We also stopped at this super cool place, filled with stores selling items whose paper price tags I probably couldn’t afford. But they had these neat water tornadoes that Mom and I had fun with:
Ahh to be young.
Nighttime Shenanigans
The evening was rather boring for us chill’ins. However, the ‘rents decided to hit up the town, ready for a night full of debaucheries. Ever therisk-seeking, high rollers, they played Roulette once, lost, and decided to call it quits. Tsk, tsk. They should’ve taken me with them. My vast experience with Roulette (namely two whole nights at Project Grad playing nothing but Roulette – yeah, I was cool) could have at least helped them win at least a little.
They also discovered that Vegas bars are not the cheapest things in the world. Or at least not that one. All in all, I’m glad I stuck with L&O: SVU. Seeing people traumatized and murdered is always preferable to losing money.
So ends the last night here in Vegas. Alas, no Hangover worthy stories to tell. I shall have to wait for my bachelorette party for that one.
**P.S. I forgot to mention this in my last post, but I succeeded in crossing something off my bucket list!! Much to the intense embarrassment and shame of my parents, I successfully managed to spit into the Grand Canyon. Already, I consider this trip a success. Score one for Ellen.**
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Tuesday, July 27th
Is it bad that when I awoke this morning, the first rush of excitement I felt was not from the upcoming explorations of the day but from the anticipation of a new episode of Covert Affairs being released tonight? Hmmm, I need to get my priorities straightened out. Natural Wonder of the World vs. a television show. Yeah, I know.
Oh and by the way, that plan I made to wake up and see the sunrise? Yeahhhh, about that…. Oops. Well, from what I could see from inside my cabin and through closed eyelids, it was very pretty.
Bright Angel Hike
The morning plan was to do a brief hike before we checked out of our cabins. Over breakfast, Mom regaled us all with lovely stories of past marathon runners, all healthy and in their prime, who prematurely and horrifically perished while hiking in the Grand Canyon. Their shriveled up bodies were only discovered days later by search teams. Lovely. Thanks Mom.
Personally, I wasn’t too worried. All these victims were experienced hikers and in great shape. As I am neither, I figure I’m pretty much good to go, right? Hey, don’t destroy my delusions.
Our first hike was Bright Angel Hike, a long winding trail that eventually leads the 7-8 miles down to the floor of the canyon. No, don’t worry, we didn’t make it. We hiked about 30 minutes, picked an arbitrary rock as our destination, touched it and turned around. It provides a more immediate feeling of accomplishment. PLUS, the tricky thing about canyon hiking is that you start off going down. Meaning, after you are tired and sweaty, you still have to turn around and climb back up.
The coolest thing about this hike was how many foreigners we bumped into. Let’s see, I heard Spanish, German, British English, lots of French, Italian, I think some Dutch, and lots of Japanese. And plus a few more languages I didn’t recognize. Kind of cool to think about all the tourists coming to our country.
Another cool thing was seeing the giant pack mules, scaling the cliffs. I knew they were beasts of burden, but I didn’t realize how big they were.
Ooh Ahh Point
The second hike we did, after we navigated the perilous parking lots and ran over old ladies to get the one open parking space, was to Ooh Ahh Point, apparently named after the noises human make upon arriving there. John Alex and I immediately reenacted the George of the Jungle scene in which the hikers reach Ape Mountain.
Narrator: “And they reacted with awe.”
Hikers: “Awwwh!”
Narrator: “No , not awwh, AWE. A-W-E.”
Hikers: “Oooooh!”
That dialogue either brought back great childhood memories or left you completely bewildered.
The hike down was very steep and zig-zaggy. Mom kept shouting out things like “Peligroso!” and “Crocodilios!” Because, you know, there are a lot of crocodiles climbing along the path at 7,000 feet above sea level in the middle of a desert. (Yeah, I have no idea why either…)
The funny thing was that everyone walking down the canyon path still had big goofy grins on their faces. No one had them coming back up the canyon path. Hmmm, this did not forebode well.
Now, we were told that Ooh Ahh point wasn’t actually labeled. So we weren’t entirely sure when we would get there, since the path actually continued on past it. Knowing this, Dad stopped at every bend in the path and said “Is this it? I think this is it. Let’s turn back”. I can’t believe that *I*, Ellen Porter, was NOT the person complaining the most on this hike. Because you guys know how I feel about hiking.
Eventually, we made it to Ooh Ahh Point. Or at least we made it to an outcropping that we were now going to call Ooh Ahh Point, regardless of whether it actually was Ooh Ahh Point. Together, we did our customary oohing and ahhing the location required and then turned around and went back up. A buzzard began circling above us on the hike back up. No joke.
Panting and trying to entertain ourselves, we began making comments like “Wow, I can’t believe we just hiked across the entire canyon!” or “That was quite a hike from the Northern Rim”, every time a family passed us going back down the canyon. They didn’t look convinced. It might’ve been because they didn’t speak English. Or maybe it was because I kept tripping over every upturned rock. Ah well.
The climb back up. Oh Lordy Lordy.
Grand Canyon Facts
Well that concludes our hiking experience in the Grand Canyon National Park. I figure that hiking expedition will last me for at least another 5 years or so until I am once again dragged to do more hiking despite the fact it violates my principles as a lazy person.
I thought I would put a few little facts that I learned about the Grand Canyon in this section:
· 277 miles long, 8,000 feet deep, and very, very wide
· If you raft along the Colorado river it will take you 14 to 21 days (7 to 10 days by motorized boat)
· Only 2% of visitors ever venture below the rim of the canyon. Only 1% make it to the bottom.
· Over 250 people need to be rescued by helicopter each year. A helicopter rescue costs $25,000. (insane!)
· Japanese tourists always arrive by the busload. (Ok this isn’t a Grand Canyon fact, but just something I’ve observed everywhere).
Check out my panorama of the Grand Canyon! (Click for larger)
Oh yeah, two last things. One, we saw an elk only 5 feet from our shuttle! It had cool furry antlers. Two, rumor has it that our vice president, Mr. Joe Biden, was also at the Grand Canyon the same time we were! I went on a celebrity hunt, but the roads were blocked off and there were intimidating unmarked white vehicles near the entrance to where he was staying. Normally, this wouldn’t stop me, but my family didn’t want to wait for me.
Back to Vegas
We drive the six hours or so back to Vegas, after we finished hiking to our hearts’ content. Along the way, we stopped for dinner at a pizzeria that apparently 3 Presidents have eaten at (both Bushes and Clinton, allegedly). Kinda cool :)
Once back in Vegas, we check into a new hotel by the name of Monte Carlo. The only problem is, they were apparently booked to the full (and this is a huge hotel, just like all the Vegas ones) This meant that they didn’t have to honor our non-smoking reservation and put us instead in smoking rooms. Ugh, my clothes still smell funnily. Ah well.
Cool view on the drive back
Monday, July 26th
Why hello there, friends and family. I hope those travelling yesterday after the reunion made it home at least moderately intact. We, Porters, as you might recall from my previous blogpost, are currently located in the armpit of America, the Sin City itself, the ever fabulous: Las Vegas.
Morning Travels
As we walked through the casino on our way to check out of Excalibur, our hotel for the evening, the air smelled of old smoke, spilt beer and bad decisions. Surprisingly (or really, not so surprisingly), people were still sitting on the slot machines, drinking beer, and pulling the lever, over and over and over again. Ugh, who can drink beer at 8:30 in the morning?
If I could sum up the Vegas experience in one term, it would be this: exhaust pipe. Not only was it so oppressively hot that I was constantly looking around for the bus I was apparently standing behind, but, metaphorically speaking, Vegas takes what it is given, sucks out the good stuff and expels the dirty, grimy part that no one really wants anyway. Just like an exhaust pipe.
We loaded up our car and set off on our 6 hour drive to the Grand Canyon, where we’ll be spending the next two days. Yepp we will be driving a 12 hour round trip to see a giant hole in the ground. Well it’s something to cross off the bucket list! Along the way, we briefly stopped at the Hoover Dam. And by briefly, I mean “Everyone-get-out-of-the-car-RUN-go-take-a-picture-now-lets-go-go-go!”
The Hoover Dam
Carmen, our Garmin, also spent the entire trip trying to take us down small, tiny dirt roads but we had a mutiny, muted her, and opted instead to stay on the highway.
The Grand Canyon
Pulling up at the gate at the entrance to the Grand Canyon, we saw that the entrance fee was $25. However, Dad whipped out his handy-dandy Seniors National Parks membership card and we all got in for free! That is the best deal ever. For a $10 lifetime membership, Dad can bring ANYone he wants into ANY of the national parks. For the rest of his life. So if you’re planning on visiting any national parks anytime soon, it is totally worth it to kidnap a senior to bring with you.
Spying a series of parked cars along side of the road, we too park out car and get out. My first thought: that it is freezing. It is about 65 degrees at this point, which is a huge temperature change from the 105 degrees that it was in Vegas just this morning. Doesn’t Arizona know that not only is it a desert but also the middle of summer?! (Nate pointed out that I am about the only person in the world to be cold in a desert).
Ok here are my impressions of the Grand Canyon:
1. You’re kind of just walking along, la-di-dah-ing, and then BAM! GIANT CLIFF FACE OVERLOOKING A HUGE DROP. Can you imagine how the first settlers must felt, just stumbling across this thing?
2. The multicolored canyon walls stretch as far as the eye can see, and it feels like you are standing on the top of the world.
3. You couldn’t see the bottom. At least not here. Something about the way the canyon walls sloped downward obscured the views of the Colorado River.
4. The whole thing was blue. Yes, blue. I don’t know, many most canyons are blue, but I was expecting it to be reddish brown, like the pictures. Maybe it is normally. But it look very blue to me.
So I tried to take some pictures. I really did. And I’ll try and show you, but of course I’m going to have to preface it with the cliché “they really don’t do the place justice”. And they don’t. Still photographs can never give you the sense of depth or magnitude that two eyes can. So if anyone happens to be living vicariously through this blog (and I hope not, since that would only pressure me into doing crazy, adventurous stunts to feel worthy of that status), don’t look at these pictures and instead just journey your way over here to see it for yourself.
But still a pretty cool picture, huh?
Cabin time
We check into our cabins for the night, and by this point, it is dark – meaning we missed the sunset. Alas. Next time. I hesitantly make the silent promise to awake bright and early tomorrow to see the sunrise. (Anyone who knows me well should be laughing their heads off right now). Yeahhh, me and mornings aren’t exactly a match made in heaven.
I spend the latter part of the evening going on an epic quest for internet, which actually involved more trials and tribulations than one would assume. Finally, victory is mine! I chat with a few friends on Facebook, only to watch helplessly, a few minutes later, as those “friends” proceed to like-bomb me.
What is like-bombing, do you ask? Well, let me explain. Like-bombing is when several people, simultaneously, begin “liking” every single status, post, link, comment, etc. on a single person’s Facebook page. “But Ellen,” you ask, “doesn’t this make you feel loved and appreciated?” NO, absolutely NOT. It makes you want to grab the nearest sharp object, cut your computer to shreds and then use the pieces to spell out your suicide note. “But why don’t you just ignore it?” you ask, confused. Ignore it? You try doing ANYTHING on the Internet when your entire browser is blowing up from the 84 new Facebook notifications filling the screen. Yeah, that’s what I thought.
The only consolation is that Nash’s computer crashed three times as a result of this. Ha ha, karma’s a b*tch.
Ok, enough petty complaining for the evening. Tomorrow, we will awake bright and early to go hiking throughout the canyon. Hasta la vez proxima.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Sunday, July 25th
Sorry, folks, that this post is a bit late. We got back to our Vegas hotel room and I couldn’t for the life of me figure how to make the Internet work. Defeated, I just resigned myself to bed for the evening…only to awake the next morning to see the Internet cable 3 feet from my head. Vegas, 1. Ellen’s powers of observation, 0.
Also, for those just joining us, this blog is documenting the entire Porter West Coast adventure, not just the reunion. Someone just happened to let slip yesterday at the concluding meeting for our reunion that I was keeping a blog of the trip, so there have been a few requests for me to send this blog out to everyone. Hmmm, I will do this, but with a disclaimer: I ramble, I remark, I misspell and I make bad jokes. If you can put up with a nineteen-year-old’s stream of consciousness, then by all means, read on :).
The Concluding Meeting
The sun rose on a flurry of activity here in Estes Park. Everyone was running around packing, grabbing breakfast, calling airlines to confirm flights, and sentimentally staring at the campground that housed and (attempted to) feed us these past few days. Or in my case, the sun rose on an oversleeping teenager who only semi managed to make herself presentable once the pounding knock on the door by her mother revealed that she was running quite late. Typical.
We met up and formed a large circle in the conference room that was our central meeting place for the entire reunion. Always prepared, several large poster boards were already hung up and markers were uncapped, ready for us to start creating a giant pros and cons list for the reunion and to brainstorm ideas for the next reunion in 3 years. Ch-yeah, we take reunion-ing to the next level. None of this last minute, thrown together get-togethers for us. No sirree. We Porters are hard-core to the max.
So a quick summary of the meeting:
Pros
· Excellent planning by Deanne Butterfield and Ruth York (virtual high-five!)
· Awesome activities like horseback riding and competitive putt-putting. I guess I’ll include hiking under this list, though I don’t know if I would consider walking in circles, lost in the woods, “awesome”.
· Super cool family members. Can’t have a successful reunion without them.
· And plenty of liquor for when we needed a little extra help dealing with the super coolness of our family members.
Cons
· Large location – normally I assume everyone I bump into at reunions is somehow related to me. The fact that other families were also present in Estes Park forced me to actually know who all I was related to. A shocking concept.
· The food. Let’s just say it left a lot to be desired. And it made my dorm food from this past year look gourmet.
· Altitude – well this was on the cons list, but personally it was on my pros list. It totally allowed me to keep lying to myself as to the true reason why I was huffing and puffing after climbing one flight of stairs.
Finally, we grabbed a couple of unfortunate volunteers to decide the location and host of the next reunion. Not all of these volunteers were present. Tehehe, that’s what you get for taking off early! Just kidding…
The Therapeutic Cry Session
We finished off our reunion with a round robin with everyone saying what was the most gratifying, impressive, or poignant experience from the weekend. Or the GIP session, as I liked to call it. Luckily the words weren’t switched around or it would’ve been the PIG session.
Ok, that was my final lame joke of this section. Cue: serious, heartfelt reflection time.
This round robin, which I initially thought was going to be very lame (no offense, John), turned out to be one of the most touching experiences of the reunion. Everyone was given the opportunity to speak on the experience that mean the most to them, and it became a really powerful bonding moment as emotions were laid bare and people poured out their hearts.
Now this being said, as soon as the first eye started misting up, I became a blubbering fool, bawling my eyes out in the corner. Others soon followed, and we all bonded over a single passed tissue box that was completely empty by the time we got all the way around the circle. And that fact right there meant a lot to me. The fact that our get-togethers, however short they may be, manages to mean so much to people that there wasn’t a dry eye in the room, that says a lot. And it’s a testament to what a loving and tightly bound family we have become, despite the physical distance that lies between us the other 2 years and 361 days between reunions.
Finally, after I cried out about 10 pounds of body fluids, we all got up and gave our final goodbyes. Or at least, temporary goodbyes, as we sure to see most of us again in a 3 years time. Or sooner, if you are a poor college student like myself and like to crash on the couches of family members rather than at hotels when travelling.
Denver Airport
Ok, if you are still reading this, props to you. I know it is getting a little lengthy and not relevant to most. Family members, that was the end of the reunion section. However, the blog will still continue for the rest of our West Coast adventures, so you are more that welcome to keep reading. In fact, I would be honored. But feel no obligation to. And if you manage to stick it out til next Saturday, I’ll post my link to the blog I’ll be keeping for my India trip! (You would think I just offered you free candy with how I just phrased that. “If you keep reading my teenage ramblings, I’ll reward you with…the opportunity to read MORE teenage ramblings!”) Again, no obligations, but just throwing it out there.
We left Estes Park, Colorado and once again, in a manner typical of any time I travel, I spent the two hour ride back gazing at the scenic sights of my inner eyelids. We did stop briefly by a bubbling brook to eat our packed lunches given to us by the YMCA. Upon opening them, we were delighted to find that we received not one, but TWO peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. This delighted me far more than it should’ve.
Once back in Denver, we dropped off the rental car at Alamo, where the rental car man was a flurry of efficiency. He had our car inspected, our information recorded, and our receipt printed before I could finish my sleepy stutter of “Where are we?”
The Denver airport was exactly the same way. The super nice Southwest man helped my efficiency-impaired family navigate the ticket stand. The security man sent us to the “secret” security line that had no people waiting (and by secret I mean the less used one at the end of the airport). Dad did get searched. Again. AND, the best part was, we ran in to a bajillion family members also in the airport. You know how it can sometimes be awkward running into someone after you already said goodbye? Not us. We started keeping a tally of how many people we could scream joyfully at across the airport while jumping up and down waving frantically. We got 6. The man sitting next to me began looking uneasy as you could see him debating whether or not to call the nearest psych ward.
Denver to Las Vegas
The flight was uneventful. I read the Reader’s Digest that was left in the seat pocket and learned that New Jersey ranks #45 on the nation’s best roads. I couldn’t believe it. You mean there are 5 WORSE states than New Jersey?! (Sorry, if I have any New Jersey readers but I hate driving in your state. You stole my hubcap.) Also, the pilot started off the flight telling us that the current temperature in Las Vegas was 110 degrees. Yayyyy.
Sin City
We arrive in Las Vegas and are immediately greeted with the ever classy slot machines located right near our arrival gate. Welcome to Sin City. We also saw a poster for Thunder from Down Under, the hot Australian men dancing show that was playing at our hotel. John Alex aspired to be one of them:
After an absolutely hell-ish experience with our rental car (don’t rent Dollar in Las Vegas), much screaming when we realized that Las Vegas roads aren’t lined, an epic search for a parking space, and much weaving between the crowds consisting of the classiest and fittest Americans, we finally make it to our hotel room. Located on the 22nd floor I might add. Look at our cool hotel!
After dropping off our stuff, we hit up the casino. Sticking a dollar into the nearest slot machine, we crank the handle, push the button, and…we lost. Surprise! Vegas stole our money. Exemplifying the Aesop fable of Sour Grapes, we bitterly mutter that we didn’t want to play slots anyway and left to go explore the hotels.
The slot machines at the MGM Grand
Ok, just a question. Who would fly all the way out to Vegas to stay in a hotel named New York, New York? Yes the building was a cool replica of the Big Apple, but I still don’t understand it. Eventually, tired of battling the crowds holding giant plastic guitars, filled with beverages and attached straws, we all retire for the evening. Vegas, +$1, Porter family, -$1. The House always wins.
The hotel New York, New York
By the way, if you made it through this entire post, accolades to you. This turned out to be WAY longer than I expected and I, for one, am very familiar with the decreasing American attention span. So thanks if you made it this far!
Signing out.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
So I just realized that it posted the date at the top of every post so I fortunately no longer have to keep writing it. Hooray! To set the scene, right now I am sitting outside, surrounded by mountains, trying to soak up some sun while debating whether anyone will notice if I devour the last half of the box filled with blueberry scones. Soooo tempting. But I shall resist so I might regale you with our day’s adventures.
Horseback Riding
This morning we woke up quite early, donned our riding gear (which in my case, being the avid horsewoman that I am, consisted of a pair of jeans and sneakers) and headed to the livery. Thirteen family members were present, so we basically dominated the riding group that set out, thus beginning the Great Horseback Adventure.
We were assigned certain horses based on our size and past riding experience (which for me was a grand total of two times), and I was greeted by a skewbald horse by the name of Trooper. Now Trooper and I are like BFFs. He totally agreed with me on the fact that walking in a straight, single file line was boring and so instead spent the majority of the trip trying to sneak a taste of the yummy shrubberies. However, since we basically we of the same mind, I caught onto his little tricks and so, for the most part, I was able to thwart his advances.
I really think that the horses tended to match the personalities of their riders. For instance, Trooper and I would both much rather be eating than hiking aimlessly along a trail. John Alex’s horse Pete, being the horse in front of us, spent the duration of the trip leaving delightful steaming packages, ever so thoughtfully, right in front of us. He even thought to perfume the air for us, with his oh so wonderful inner body smell. Lovely.
However, the trip itself was a ton of fun. We ended up riding for about two and a half hours throughout the Rocky Mountain National Park. The views were fantastic and you got to ride magnificent beasts while you’re at it. While I still wouldn’t describe myself as a horse fanatic by any means (this would entail me actually having feelings), I have decided that I would love to take up jousting. They unfortunately don’t allow the man on man jousting anymore, but they still do have the jousting where you try and hit a hanging wooden circle of two inches in diameter with a 6 foot long lance while riding at full speed.
And no, I didn’t get to try it today. But I did get to talk to my Uncle Jack about it, who has been riding horses for 75 years and was named California’s Horseman of the Year in the 70s. He was some pretty hot stuff. Like red, hot chili pepper hot. So I picked his brain about his new possibility of mine. But all in all, loved the experience :)
Mini-Golf aka Mini-Hockey
After lunch and a brief catnap in the sun, six of us hit up the mini-golf range here at our campground/lodge thingy. What started off as a very serious game with tightly regulated rules, morphed into an equally serious game of competitive golf-hockey. We couldn’t quite figure out if we were playing with each other or against, since people were simultaneously kicking balls off the course, while setting up paths of clubs leading straight to the hole, making it impossible for others to miss.
The rules basically morphed into this:
1. If you don’t make a hole in one, others reserve the right to steal your ball and play it for you.
2. If the ball doesn’t stop moving, then it still counts as one hit, regardless of how many times a club touches it.
3. On random holes, we would all have to switch to playing left-handed, much to uneasiness of the other players at the course.
And my personal favorite:
4. If the course obstacle at that hole was stupid, kicking the ball was not only allowed but highly encouraged.
But a lot of fun, bonding with the relatives.
Movietime and the Great Key Adventure
After skipping the 8 of the last 9 holes at the putt putt range, the group took off to our central meeting place where we watched Steve Huyler’s new award-winning documentary that he made about this woman’s art in India. Uncle Jack also gave everyone copies of his book and CD that he made of folk songs he sang while growing up.
Look at the pins we got! "Blood is thicker than cement"
We had a brief break before the giant family ordeal of the family panoramic, so Dad and I decided to head back to the room. Unfortunately, when we got there, neither of our keys worked. Bear in mind that these are real keys and not flimsy plastic cards. But the keys would only go in halfway. This was really bizarre because they were working perfectly well just hours prior.
Now, as many of you know, I have issues with keys and opening locked doors. However, after becoming a recent fan of the new TV show Covert Affairs, I decided to release my inner secret agent and try my hand, once again, at lock picking. And guess what? I DID IT! I successfully managed to open a locked door with only a credit card!!! Gah, I felt like such a secret agent. This feeling was soon lost when people pointed out that real secret agents didn’t ecstatically shout their success at picking locks to the entire building.
But we made it into the room, and funnily enough, the lock fixed itself soon after. Weird.
Portraits and Porter Follies
At 5:30, the family began assembling to take our traditional panoramic photo, taken by my Uncle Ben, the photographer. Gee, isn’t it handy to have at least one of those in the family?
Now this is always a long complex affair, though luckily, this year, Dad opted to keep his shirt on for the majority of the photos. I snapped a quick shot of the entire assembled family (present here at the reunion). I believe the last count was that we had 77 people here out of the possible 110 that are still living. But you can count the peeps in the picture to verify:
Click to see full size image
After the picture, I sprinted across the camp to grab my computer just in time to check in for our Southwest flight tomorrow. It wasn’t that far, but I sure was huffing and puffing when I got there. I blame the altitude and the resulting lack of oxygen. The fact that I haven’t exercised all summer had nothing to do with it, I assure you. In fact, the altitude became a great fall back excuse for anything, be it having difficulty hiking, forgetting the lyrics to the family folk songs, or losing horribly in putt-putt. ♪Blame it on the a-a-a-a-altitude ♪
The evening was spent hosting our first Porter Family Follies. Generally each reunion we do a sort of a talent show, but this year it was fairly more organized. It was great. We had people doing cheers, telling funny stories, singing songs they wrote, the whole lot. Unfortunately, my side of the family seemed to miss out of the musical gene that seemed to grace every other family member at the reunion, and we were forced to watch and bemoan our lack of any performable talents. What could I do? Give everyone a tour of Carolina?
But it was a great conclusion to our family reunion. Tomorrow we’ll have one last get together before everyone goes their separate ways. It was great getting to see and talk to everyone, and learn new things. Like what to do when a bear chases you and other useful things like that. (The answer, my friends, is to dial zero).
But that’s all for tonight, folks. Peace out.
Friday, July 23, 2010
I will try and make this post shorter than the ramblings of yesterday, mainly because I have to get up tomorrow morning at 7 am to go horseback riding through the mountains. Yay! Also, you guys probably really don’t care about all the minute details that I seem to harp and hammer on, so brevity I shall seek to master.
The Porter Background
I realize I should probably give you guys a brief glimpse into the family dynamic of this reunion. I don’t have the time or patience to introduce you guys to everyone (I’m thinking about making Porter Playing Cards that could double as last minute flash card preps for the next reunion – but then I realized we have more than 52 people). That being said, while I can recognize most people now, there sometimes still exists that awkward greeting of “Oh it’s so good to see you…*check name tag* [name]!)
Everyone here at this reunion is the descendent of John Alexander Porter and Caroline Lee, my great grandparents. The coolest thing about this reunion is there are such vast age differences among people in the same generation. For instance I am in the same generation as a pair of grandparents. Weirddd.
But the current family patriarch of the family is Uncle Jack, my Dad’s cousin, who recently celebrated his 90th birthday and is very proud of the fact that he is now the oldest Porter to ever live. Personally, I think he has been hanging on primarily to spite Pap, my grandfather, who previously held the record. There are a multitude of generations present (I think four?) and it is very elder-oriented. That being said, this opens up the opportunity for many interesting stories and folk songs.
The Porter family (and I use this term very loosely as very few of us actually retain the last name Porter) are a very diverse bunch hailing from all over the US and a few from England as well. However, we are very proud of our roots and the name Porter has been adopted by many as either first or middle names. This does make things mildly confusing, I will say. But all in all, I love my family and the fact that we all get together every 3 years or so to celebrate our family-ness.
Morning Meetings
We started off the morning with an hour long video of our family history that my Uncle Ben spent the last few years putting together. It traced our roots back to when we first came to America in the 1600s and went all the way up to the generation that we refer to as The First Cousins – or the grandchildren of Alex Porter and Carrie Lee. Hopefully, we will continue the video in the future to document the next generations.
The great thing about this video, in addition to the many photos, is that it had audio clips of many people when they were young who are now either deceased or in their 80s or 90s. It was fascinating. We even had silent film footage of a family wedding in 1924. I didn’t even know people even HAD access to personal video then.
The funny thing was, something about this video just got to me and I spent almost the entire hour, bawling my eyes out. I didn’t even KNOW most of these people but that didn’t stop me from sobbing from the many touching moments documented in this film. I tried to subtly hide the streaming tears (something that I doubt was very successful when I was sitting in the very front) but I soon gave up when I glanced around and realized that everyone else’s face was a mirror of mine. Haha my mom and I were a mess.
Game Time
After the video, and much chatting, we eventually mosy our way down to the field to participate in some family games. You know, some good ole family bonding time. And what better way to do this than by spending our morning competitively and creatively passing apples amongst ourselves using acrobatic and admittedly very awkward body positions?
See the pic? Case in point. Basically the goal of the game is to pass the fruit without using your hands. It got harder and harder and the apple did even up with several bite marks. But hey we’re all family so what’s a little germ sharing? Other games were played as well, but that one really brought our family’s competitive streak. Unfortunately, we didn’t get around to Human Croquet this year which is always a blast/disaster.
Afternoon Adventures
I spent the afternoon in the state of peaceful bliss as I napped most of the daylight hours away. However, other people were more fun than I as several hikes and excursions were taken. Now generally, as a principle, I pass on most hiking opportunities. I really don’t see the point in walking in circles just to end up back in the same place that you started. You can try and tell me it’s for the sight-seeing, but honestly, isn’t most of the time spent staring at the ground, making sure you don’t trip on that upcoming root? Yeahhhh, real fun. But others seemed to enjoy it, so I’m glad they had fun.
At 4:30, we had cocktail hour, and can I just say that this was the ONLY planned event so far that everyone has showed up to on time? Typical Scotch-Irish. The rule of thumb is that if you arrive within half an hour you are still on time, but heaven forbid you be late to the open bar. It became evident why, shortly thereafter, as we discovered that the best way (and really the only way) to deal with this much family…is with a few drinks warming our bellies.
Campfire Bonding
The evening was spend around the campfire, making s’mores, telling family stories, and singing the traditional family folk songs that we’ve been singing since 1930. To tell the truth, I believe most of them were Negro spirituals, but they were the songs we have been singing for generations. It was interesting getting to hear all the stories of how the older couples all met, too.
The only grievance I had with the whole affair (ok I had two), was the fact that it was so elder-driven that it ceased to be relevant to the younger crowd. I stayed, but a lot of the younger people peaced and went to play basketball or mini-golf. Even the songs we sang were only relevant to the older crowds and it would’ve been nice to introduce some newer songs, that probably more people actually knew the words too.
The other grievance is the fact that my father, aunt, and uncle, were left out of the generational story-telling. Everyone else of the First Cousin generation got to tell their spousal discovery stories (or if they were no longer with us, their children told it), but since my dad and his siblings were so much younger than their cousins, the elders completely forgot about them. Hmm, that was mildly insulting.
But the best part of the evening was the sunset. Isn’t it lovely?
Well, that’s all I got for you guys. Cross your fingers that I am not trampled by horses tomorrow. Over and out.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Thursday, July 23rd
Aloha, compadres! Hmmm, I don’t think I am quite far enough west to use that phrase. I’ll have to save Hawaii for another trip. But enough jibber jabber. On to the day’s adventures!
Morning Road Trip
We wake up not quite bright and early ready to hit the road in our rented car. Destination? Estes Park, Colorado: this year’s location of the ever-entertaining Porter Family Reunion. It is a rather small car that we pile all our luggage and personages into, but we make do and hit the road with our trusted guide: Carmen the Garmin.
Now Estes Park is not that far away. Maybe two hours tops. Well two hours, if you’re not driving with the Porter family. Deciding to take the age old adage to ‘stop and smell the roses’ quite literally, our road trip is peppered with stops to stretch our legs…every twenty miles.
Ok, ok, this is somewhat excusable because of the 4 licensed drivers in the car, only my mom could legally drive the vehicle (stupid age restrictions). So we decided to carpe that diem and visit anything and everything that looked interesting along the way.
Boulder: the college, the rock, and the best free frappés
While driving on our way to Boulder, Colorado, I happened to remark that I had a few friends who went to school at the University of Colorado at Boulder. This realization of course morphed into a spontaneous decision to stop and tour the campus. I mean, why not? The destination was entered into Carmen and we realized that the exit was only 0.6 miles from our current location. How is that for timing?
Navigating the streets of Boulder was a little confusing, I admit. Ultimately, we were forced to stop and stare confusedly at the campus map until a nearby student took pity on us and offered to help. Rugged Mountain Man (who was actually neither rugged nor really a mountain man – he just had a beard) was very helpful and sent us in the right direction.
But alas, it was not to be, as he sent us to the wrong building. Thanks a lot Rugged Mountain Man.
So first stop, fail. We left the college to seek out any place that sold caffeine, preferably in large quantities. Lo and behold, just around the corner was a Starbucks. However, just beyond that corner was a McDonalds, whose prices were about half that of Starbucks. Being of the frugal type, we chose the latter.
This turned out to be a great decision.
At this McDonald’s, we went in and ordered a selection of mocha frappés and smoothies, all of which were delicious. Standing there at the counter we were passing them all around to everyone since we couldn’t decide which one we liked the best. I mean, seriously. They were all delicious.
The manager noticed us standing there, making a quite a big deal about this fact. (Yes, we get super excited about little things). He asks us if we want to try the caramel frappe and then proceeds to make mini frappes, complete with whipped cream, caramel sauce and adorable little cups FOR EVERYONE. AND he gives us cards for free Red Box rentals. Gahhhh, I love spontaneous nice people. Thank you, awesome mr. manager!
So all in all, Boulder is on my good list.
Nederland
The next stop we make is at Nederland, whose only claim to fame is what they refer to as The Frozen Dead Guy. Now this is some po-dunk little mountain town of about 1,000 people. But apparently, several years ago (I forget the actual date), two Dutchmen showed up here toting a frozen dead guy. Side note: these Dutchmen have since been deported as I am pretty sure importing dead people is mildly frowned upon at customs.
So this dead dude was one of those people who freeze themselves in hope that one day we’ll discover how to reverse death. Now, despite my slight condemnation regarding this practice, I was intrigued. However, much to my displeasure, we were NOT permitted to see the body. I was not happy.
But we do go explore this tiny mining town and its cute little shops, stopping to take classy pictures such as these:
The rest of the road trip was fairly uneventful as I slept most of the last leg. When we stopped taking breaks every 20 miles, my body did what it always does when granted a few spare moments: sleep.
Y! M, C, A
We arrive safely, soundly, and late at the large YMCA campground/retreat complex that we will be staying at for the next few days. This is a large area covered in lodges, sporting fields/courts, cabins and the like. Rimming the entire complex are gorgeous views of the mountains.
Checking in, we manage to bump into a number of relatives. Much rejoicing, cheek kissing, and re-introductions ensued as we all reacted enthusiastically despite the fact we only vaguely remembered each other’s names much less how we are actually related.
The first problem arose we when discovered that we actually didn’t have enough beds for everyone in our immediate family. Normally this wouldn’t be a problem since we are great at sleeping in floors or bathtubs, but our meal cards were tied to the number of room occupants and four was the max. Uh oh. Luckily another nearby relative took me in and has graciously offered in bed for me in their room. Thanks Anne!
Meeting the Clan
After dropping off our stuff, we head to the giant meeting hall where mayhem ensues. Every family member present at this reunion is in this small room and we are all rejoicing at seeing each other. And if there is one thing I can say about the Porters is that we loooove to talk.
So just a brief summary, we have a little over 80 people attending this reunion, as unfortunately many Porter family members were unable to make it. I’ll find out the exact number of descendents still living and give you guys that tally later. But it’s still a lot of people, so nametags were a necessity.
Anyways, it was actually a lot of fun, as Social Ellen came out as I flitted and fluttered among the relatives. A good hour and a half was spent in high-powered jibber jabber before we went to dinner. And then much more jibber jabber at dinner. And then more post dinner. Finally, after all of that chattering, we all got the chance to introduce ourselves to the group and provide updates since our last reunion in 2007.
Hmm so this post is already extremely long, so I’m going to stop here. I might give you guys a summary of what my family is actually like, but I’ll save that for another post. One thing I will say though, is that the ultimate test for any potential future fiancé out there is to survive an encounter with my family. This is no small feat, I assure you. Think My Big Fat Greek Wedding style family, though minus the Greek.
That being said, I am signing off for the night. Hasta luego!
The highlight the night was FINALLY getting a clear picture of Caesar’s Palace. I mean not only was it the site of the infamous Hangover, but after taking about 20 blurry pictures, nothing is more satisfying than finally getting a clear, crisp one. NOTHING, I TELL YOU. And I was just about to start impaling passerby with their plastic beer guitars…
