ADAMSONIAN

Time flies so fast. Another summer is approaching and another vacation looming, at least for the kids. As a prelude to the usual out-of-town plans that we have, I took a three day off work on Father’s Day and have my wife plan a three-hour drive to Gualala, a serene coastal town in Mendocino, California. We woke up at 5am and packed our stuff, composed of two bags of clothes and three grocery bags of food. And of course a cooler filled with soda, water and green tea.

We had breakfast at McDonalds, having decided it is the most convenient alternative for a family of four. We made our way to Lombard street headed off to the Golden Gate bridge and then to Napa. The highway was clear and there was no better time for the drive to take place than on a Saturday morning. It was foggy outside and the sky was overcast. The two kids sat at the van’s back seat each with an mp3 plugged to their ears and hashbrowns stuffed in their mouth. It was a pleasant drive, so far. My youngest was singing to the music, his own version of Amy Grant’s “Power of Love”. It sounded like a Japanese ranting. All of us had a laugh.

The drive was such a wonderful task under the circumstances. We were on a North Pacific highway and it zigzags across meadows and fields, with the ocean view to the left and the countryside to the right. There were countless curves that I had to slow down to 15 mph just to get good traction. There were but a few cars on the road and everything looked safe and quiet. On one curbside a group of surfers was dressing up to catch the wave. My wife and I hollered teasing a bald guy about to undress. Afar, one surfer was wiped out by the ocean’s mild tide. It was a beautiful sight.

On previous trips, my eldest son had a bad habit of asking if we were there yet. And so before the journey began we told him that it would take us three hours to get to where we’re going. It also came with a stern warning that he should not be bugging us with that question until after three hours on the road. That worked and kept him relatively quiet. The only bugging noise was the repeated message on the GPS telling us we are exceeding the speed limit. I turned the volume down. Now it’s perfect.

We arrived at our destination before ten in the morning. It was a picturesque view of a small coastal town. Population 585. About two hotels stand from each side of the road in the center of the town that is also the main highway. A community center near a dilapidated pink barnhouse stands in a dirt road. Across it is the Gualala Country Inn where we have a reservation. Check in starts at 3pm and so we drove directly to the rental shop where we planned to get a kayak. Adventure Rents is enclosed by a picket fence right behind a Century 21 office. A couple and their son were waiting by the parking lot for the rental office to open. They too would go to the river. Soon the person in charge drove up on a Toyota van that has seen better days. Its’ plate number says “4fun”, which is the same as the office’s phone number located on the billboard facing the highway. A nice lady walked out with a walking stick in one hand. Barely unable to support her heavy weight she moved slowly up the driveway to the benches facing a storage container. She welcomed us and proceeded to explain where the river leads and how people of all ages have found kayaking to be fun and educational. She never skipped a second without a word said. Very warm and pleasant indeed, we just listened and focused on the activities that she has mentioned. The other family was from town, part of the 585 residents of this lovely place. My sons talked to their kid who was nine years old himself. They commented on how my eldest was big for his age. And these are plain white folks just happy enough to have an Asian tourist milling around their town. Good for business.

Instead of kayaking we decided to get a canoe instead so that we could all be together. We were not sure how the paddling will turn out so it was safer to be all in on one boat. A male in his forties drove up. He was the helper, the muscle man responsible for the lifting of the boats. Another friendly smile and warm welcome. What a town indeed! The warm reception was a contrast to the foggy weather. A little drizzle barely felt dotted the van’s windshield. Amidst all these, the most striking part was how the friendly folks accommodated our questions and inquiries. We learned that the river is usually warmer when the air is cool and that this is the best time for canoeing, when there is enough water in the river left to wade on. Apparently, during the summer days, the shallow river would not permit any kayaking to be done.

The adventure sets off then as we went back to the van after getting on lifevests, to drive up the beach where the canoe is. My sons could not contain their excitement as they proceeded to position themselves on the canoe. I had to put some important stuff in a “dry bag” provided for us and in went my camera, my wallet, cellphone and keys. A bag of lunch boxes were also thrown in another “dry bag” which bulged as air is compressed inside. This makes sure that it floats, even if the canoe does not.

The first few minutes on the canoe were a struggle. We could not find a rhythm and went zigzagging across the river, barely moving far from where we launched. It was a new experience and we appeared clumsy for about ten minutes. The other family whom we met at the rental office was by now a couple of hundred yards away from us. They know how to paddle.

The air was crisp and the water was calm as can be. The thick foliage lining up the river appeared undisturbed and a few birds nestled in the branches. The water was about three to five feet deep and in some parts it was rather shallow. A number of dead trees with their trunks protrude from under water, the moss and weeds gathering up turning it to a dark color green. To our right side we could see the highway with a limited number of cars slowly driving by. A couple watched us from a balcony off an inn called Breaker’s Hotel. All of us were savoring the experience and was relishing the moment’s peace.

About half a mile from where we began, we docked into a sand bar separating the river from the Pacific Ocean. The kids wanted to swim and I was looking forward to taking some pictures. Looming in front of us was the view of the town, showing the Country Inn and a couple of residential structures that was unmistakably still not stirring on this fine early morning. The waves off the coast of the Pacific were melancholy as a group of pelicans flew into formation just above our heads. If there was anything I ever remembered feeling, it was calm.

The south side of Gualala River is another hour worth of paddling. With four inexperienced and by now wrangling pseudo rowers, it took us two hours to traverse. At some point we had to get off the canoe and pull it through the bedrock that is showing in the shallow canal. My eldest twice fell on his face going back the canoe just when the water was getting deeper. At one time he left his slippers and had to be scooped up. At another, it was the paddle that was thrown overboard and we had to go back to retrieve it. It was all plain simple fun. There was a deep sense of appreciation from simply hearing my kids laugh. And how they laughed.

They laughed when the canoe rocked and had to be steadied. They gasped when someone in the front seat farted and the air traveled throughout. And boy how they laughed when the canoe turned over and all our belongings floated in the water, the shock in my face was a mixture of surprise and fear. I was fearful of my camera getting wet as I floated in neck-deep water, trying to get hold of my stuff, while all three of them made it to the bank and hollered. They would forever have in their minds the image of my facial expression and that just kept them sniggering. We had the canoe turned over and as they scooped up the water, they still would burst out laughing.

We checked in at 3:30 pm and got a room on the second floor. Two queen-sized beds with red and gold sheets adorned the room. A fireplace was lit up by the window facing the river and the ocean. A television set was on top of cabinet and the kids immediately tuned in to Drake and Josh. My wife had to scurry them to the bathtub for a shower while I went straight to the comfort of the pillows. My spine was hurting and my arms were tired. I was wishing for a back rub when my wife did her usual back cracking ritual that usually corrects my misaligned nerves. I could settle with that for now. And I dozed off.

I was awakened at 6:30 pm by the two kids who wanted a hug. They were hungry too. After shower we dressed up to check the town. And it was easy to check. If we had to “paint the town red” we’d only need a bucket and a brush. There were just a couple of dining places but the most that stood out for us was “Bones Roadhouse.” “BBQ, beer and blues”, was their slogan and a poster said that a band was playing tonight. The inside of the restaurant was decorated with pirate flags, skeletons, road signs, and a host of other “historical” writings and sayings. The atmosphere was lively and the limited number of tables was sparsely occupied by families enjoying their dinner. The band was setting up their instruments off a corner where a billiard table was pushed aside and covered with a cloth. The waitress, a lovely looking blonde approached us and got our drinks. The way people looked at us made us feel at home and very welcome, like a relative has come home. One of those setting up the band instruments was the same guy who helped us out in Adventure Rents. We said hi and thanked him for the canoe we rented. He said he heard that our boat capsized and still managed to laugh. I said that it was the highlight of the trip but privately we were surprised at how fast the story was passed on. We realize that it’s how the community thrives. Everyone knows everything.

When the food was served we launched our attack. A barbeque ribs for my wife that is as long as her arm, the two kids each with macaroni and cheese and chicken tenders, and for me, barbeque strips with cornbread and mashed potatoes. The beer stuffed me quick and soon enough there was no more room for dessert. I glanced over to my right side and caught the flicker of an eyelash and a smile from a lady on another table. She asked if we were staying for the music and said darn since we are going to miss it. Her husband plays the drums. She works at a collectibles store near the rental office. She voted for Hillary and thinks that Obama may not solve the economy. She had her best day in sales today after months of slow business and she thinks she is not religious. All of that were said in about three minutes. And it was just a wonderful feeling that strangers talk openly about themselves, so honest and willing to connect. The crowd was building up as the band was about to play and so we hurried out and said goodbye to our newfound acquaintances.

We would have ended the day right there, resolving to go straight to bed after a mouthful. But my wife was adamant she need to check the rest of the town. The sun was still brightly up as expected of a summer’s day when they set at 9pm. So we drove a mile away to the State Park where they had this beautiful view of the whole town, the river and the ocean. We took turns taking pictures of each other and the spectacular view of the Pacific North coast. The sun was about to set yet we feel more awake than before. It might be the food, maybe the beer, but more so, it was the company that we keep, just the four of us enjoying our time that moment when our shadows were behind us, and the gentle touch of the setting glow was disappearing in the horizon. It was then that time stood still.                         

Last 20 posts by erwinilao

• A Life That is Well and Full - August 3rd, 2008
• Time Stood Still (posted at ownlegacy.com) - June 30th, 2008
• Political abductions on the rise under GMA - June 11th, 2008
• Ready for change - May 22nd, 2008
• In Memory of Those Who Fought - May 20th, 2008
• A Tribute To Mom - May 9th, 2008
• Vacation - April 30th, 2008
• A MASPozie (posted as an autobiography at ownlegacy.com) - March 20th, 2008
• A Wonderful Cross - March 17th, 2008
• Fighting tuition fee increase - March 7th, 2008
• Obama speech on change - February 6th, 2008
• My second’s seventh (posted at ownlegacy.com) - February 4th, 2008
• The way I love thee (posted at ownlegacy.com) - February 4th, 2008
• My Memories of Adamson University - September 30th, 2007
• Chronicles of An Appendectomy (posted at ownlegacy.com) - September 30th, 2007
• A Long Day At Play (posted at ownlegacy.com) - September 17th, 2007

About the author: 1990 - Freshman belonging to a seminary called the Marian Missionaries of the Holy Cross. The very first student to run out of St. Vincent's Bldg. from the Registrar's office when the violent earthquake of 1990 began. 1992 - Fresh out of the seminary and back to the corridors of the institution. Feeling the need to belong to something or someone. That was when I found SAMAKA. 1993 - Elected President of the College of Liberal Arts, really did nothing but hung out with Morfe, Echauz, Mercado and the Filipinism ideologue. Most were SI Fraternity members. 1994 - Got tired of student politics and joined the MASP, a popular group of Student Speech instructors who knew how to clean tables and do teachers' errands. At least we got paid and I got to "own" the Speech Lab off the 2nd floor of the ST bldg. 1995 - Elected as President of the Adamson University Student Government (AUSG). The election was a landslide courtesy of a no-show opponent, a dysfunctional left-winger, an ambitious "speaker", and my being a popular student teacher. Not that I did not deserve the position at that time. My term was the most peaceful the last fifteen years prior. Here are My Achievements: - Minimal pillboxes thrown off the campus since I keep them in my Cabinet at the AUSG office., - Less frat wars since I attended their drinking sprees in front of Cardinal bldg., - A more religious contribution from the AUSG, never before done, during the celebration of World Youth Day - More parties or celebrations like a week-long festivity during the Student Week, a College Student Government celebration, a fund-raising dance party for Lahar victims and other sorties we would not mention. I am glad I was part of this institution. I am proud to say that it was because of ADU that I am who I turned out to be. For more of me, visit www.ownlegacy.com.

erwinilao has blogged 16 posts

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