A Short One for the Family

We're heading down to the San Mateo Coast next weekend for a family gathering. We'll be staying at the Costanoa RV Resort (that's resort with a capital "R", oh boy...) because some of the gang want to rent a cabin, some have an RV, still others will stay at the lodge and our son will bring his tent. So you see, an RV resort seemed like the only answer.

I love being with the family, but sheeze, that resort is expensive!!!!

Will let you know how it goes and if Costanoa earns it's keep....but don't hold your breath.

Sue

 

Enjoy your time at Costanoa. It's a good place. Just don't think about the price.

On your way down, I recommend a stop at Duarte's in Pescadero for the artichoke soup or the green chile soup. Or they will give you a bowl with half and half. Good stuff!!

AND they have great pie.

just be careful at the beaches, as wading/swimming is very dangerous

 

Sue,

The pictures on their website look nice. Sounds like you are close to the beach. Have a great time.

 

Can't wait to read Sue's story about this trip when they get back...I know there will be a story and it will be good

 

Actually, there isn't much to tell.

Okay, there is a bit.

Now I love my husband's family. No, really, love them with a capital "L". These are truly wonderful people and a joy to be around, so any suggestion of time together results in an instant "yes" without question.

Sometimes that can get you into trouble...

Jim's sisters, Barbara and Cheri were doing a routine chat about two months ago and comments were made concerning our TD and Cheri's RV. Babara, who has little or no camping history, was wondering if she was missing something wonderful and expressed a desire to experience our "style" of camping. Instantly a plot was hatched to bring together as many family members as possible for a pot luck camp-in (no, not camp-inn). The trick was the place had to be centrally located, close by and provide a variety of camping and lodging facilities to cover everyone's tastes. Somewhere in their conversations Costanoa was brought up and decided on by the girls and Jim and I agreed to it without knowing a thing about the joint. We were about to get an education.

First shock: the price is very pricy at $79 a night for a tree dotted parking space with power, water and individual dump station for RVs and fifth wheels (Occasionally, someone wouldn't fit that dump hose all that well and...well, yikes is all I can say.). Tents share the same area as the monster trailers and look every much like huts cowering at the feet of skyscrapers, as did our little TD. For those who prefer not to bring their own, Costanoa provides plenty of lodging. There are canvas cabins (much like Yosemite's Curry Village - only without the WWII smell), cute log cabins and a comfy lodge. There are game fields, heated showers and bathrooms, outdoor lounging areas with Adirondack chairs and log fires (no fires at the camping sites unless it is self contained and on legs - rats), walking trails, bike paths, shops, a BBQ tent for "rustic" dinners and pancake breakfasts and - of course - a rather fancy restaurant.

It is all very well maintained and very up scale. In short: Yuppie Heaven.

Oh, Jim just joined me. Goodie!

Jim says, "I guess this is what they call 'Glamping'. All we needed was room service in the TD."

Gee, How'd they miss that one? Anyway...

Friday had 13 members of the family converging on Costanoa like Visigoths on a Roman outpost. It was a little over an hour's drive from our house, so 3PM found us scooting down HWY 92 (at a snails pace - commute traffic) with our son, James following our shiny silver trail. The fog bank hit just before Half Moon Bay and stayed with us down that twisting, slide plagued HWY 1 past Pigeon Point and Pescadero. As we reached Pescadero State Beach, the fog lifted just in time for us to spy a hidden left turn that is the entrance to Costanoa.

A long, eucalyptus lined, speed bump infested road snaked around in the dark shade until it suddenly popped out into the full sun. We slammed on the brakes as much for the sun blindness as for the brainless bicyclists and preoccupied pedestrians wandering all over the road. With all the foot paths and bike trails provided, these numb-nuts chose to meander about, their heads in the clouds and their bodies in the path of oncoming traffic. It's a miracle some of them didn't end up as hood ornaments.

We managed to avoid adding a few dents to our grill and soon found our spot next to Cheri's RV. James pitched his tent next to us. He shared our place, yet he was charge the full separate tent space price of $20 night and an extra $10 for his car. Our daughter was thinking of joining us just for a few hours for the pot luck dinner, but Costanoa would charge them $10 for each adult and another $10 just to park the car. $30 for them to drive all that way just to eat their own food - ridiculous.

I think you can see where I'm going with this.

Anywho, we weren't even at our camp site before someone walked up and wanted a tour. Jim was in the reservation station and I was alone in the truck, so no tour then. Darned if he didn't follow us to our site and start asking questions before we could unhitch. Oh well... Jim gave him a tour and brochure and sent him merrily on his way while I fixed dinner. The pot luck was for Saturday evening, so it was easy-peasy for me that night. A bottle of very good wine helped sooth my shattered nerves (and if they weren't really shattered, who cares. The wine was darned tasty).

After dinner (interrupted by two more tours), we all managed to hunt down the rest of the family. Barbara's daughter, Annie, her husband, Mike, and their three very healthy, rampaging boys (all under the age of 10) had taken a log cabin. They had zero experience camping and this was their first toe in the water. Baby steps.

Barbara and her husband, Bill, were set up at the lodge. We all took the Micky out of them a bit on their idea of roughing it, but they were good sports and joined in the laughter. Heck, at least the lodge's decor was rustic.

We returned to the camp site and had a lovely long talk until sunset when the chill hit. The less seasoned members of the family sniffed the air like elk catching the sent of a mountain lion and clutching jackets, headed back to their heated abodes. We agreed to meet after breakfast and explore the trails to the ocean.

We sat up, chatted and star-gazed for a while (which was a bit of a trick seeing as we were wedged between monster RVs) then headed in for a good snooze in our oh, so comfy, itty-bitty Spamalot. Aaahhhhh.....

We awoke to the dulcet tones of generators - everywhere! Okay, there was a bit of a chill in the air, but geez, you didn't really need a jacket even! Jim and I leaned against the galley and tried to breakfast on hot coffee, yogurt nuts and fruit. We managed to get in two spoon-fulls before...another tour. Why do these Jaspers always have to show up a meal time?

After a tasty meal of cold coffee and warm yogurt, we joined the rest of the family and headed off to the beach for some tide pooling. Costanoa boasted of having a private pathway that ran along the road to the beach; a walk safe from traffic. And so it was, to a point. We tramped down a rock strewn, dirt road that wound in and out of the eucalyptus grove, through meadows with dry grasses almost six feet tall and past swaths of blackberry bushes. The dark fruit tempted us, but the berries were completely entangled with poison oak. Parents grabbed children's hands and steered them away.

The path led us on for about half a mile, and then we reached that point I mentioned: a point in the form of HWY 1. Costanoa gave you a safe path so long as you were on their property. I suppose the faded pedestrian crossing signs were their way of easing their liability, but any way you look at it, when it came to crossing HWY 1, you were on your own, kid-o. We picked up the kids, scouted out the traffic and shot across as soon as the cost was clear. A bit of a heart-thumper, but we made it.

Once across, it was an easy stroll to the beach...well, actually it was to the edge of a crumbling sand cliff overlooking the beach. A torturous, steep path that only bouncy children, agile young adults and remarkably foolhardy oldsters (that would be Jim and yours truly) would attempt. But down it we went and emerged, surprisingly intact, on a small, private beach. It was high tide, so tide pooling was out, but the kids had a blast racing around, playing tag with the waves and trying to strangle each other with seaweed. The adults enjoyed the wonderful air and spectacular scenery while keeping a close eye on the brats and the waves.

We eventually wandered back to the KOA, tired, wind burned and happy. The time for the dinner was set for 5PM and some members went for naps. Jim and I hopped into the truck and headed out to Santa Cruz and Soquel for an afternoon of antique shopping.
Santa Cruz was a bust, but Soquel provided lots of action...but no purchasing. They price for the tourists and I never pay retail, anyway.

By 4PM we had seen our fill and returned for the pot luck. Our boy, James, had gone off with his camera (a very, very nice Nikon 600) exploring Pigeon Point Lighthouse and the coast. He returned with a contribution to the feast: fresh, locally grown strawberries. Yum! By 5PM, everyone was gathered, the food was set out and the family dug in. Wonderful.

By 8PM, everyone had eaten their fill, the kids were winding down, the air turned chill and a few bugs came out. The new-Bs again returned to their warm lodgings while the camper types pulled up chairs and star gazed again. In our earlier conversations it was clear the inexperienced members were not enamored of camping and preferred the more in-door style of vacations. We didn't have the heart to explain that this KOA had absolutely nothing to do with camping by the wildest stretch of imagination. But we all had fun and suggestions were made for another family gathering next year. I was hoping it would involve giving them a taste of true camping in some wonderful wilderness. Then I heard someone eagerly suggest an RV Park near Solvang.

Oh God...


Camp On,

Sue

 

Thank you for the entertaing bedtime story. Good night.

 

Yep. The entire month of September is slated for Virginia, DC, Maryland, Vermont, Wisconsin and all places in between. Gonna follow in the steps of my civil war soldier boy (Vermont 10th Infantry, Company A, thank you very much), spend some time with my family in St. Michaels MD, go to The Hill in DC and yell at our good-for-nothing congress, visit the home of my Vermont soldier boy and get some of that maple syrup - class "C". Want to see if it melts the soles off my shoes. Busy, busy, busy.

Camp On,

Sue

 

Sue,
If you are in the area, our annual gathering is Sept 7-9. location is MiTeJo Campground, Milton, NH. It has a great group area with water/elec sites, a covered pavillion where we have the Saturday evening pot luck, and super clean rest room and shower facilities.
Alan

 

Alan,

Sounds great, but I think we'll be in Williamsburg or rampaging around the Civil War battle sites at that time. Thanks for the invite. So kind.

Jenn,

We'll tell you all about it at CICO...or Jim will text you as we go.

Sue