This year, we filled THREE camp sites! We had a revolving cast of campers, 19 people in total. That included almost my entire family (except for Nathalie, who was studying for finals, and Mary), and even some extended family (Kim's dad and stepmom). We had part-time campers (my parents) who spent the days with us, but returned to a cushy hotel at night. We even had out-of-town guests--my friends Kelley, Rob and Romi, who flew in from Baltimore, then drove up to camp the night with us.
This year, we also scored on the primo camp sites. We had tons of trees (shade!) and no other campers behind us for most of the time. We were also 10 feet from the beach, which was great for spotting whales, dolphins and seals.
I set up my tent so I could see the waves from my air mattress. Awesome.
We also wanted to get busy cooking! My family likes to eat, and eat well. We don't like average camp food, like hot dogs or canned stuff. No way. Scott made ribs and fettuccine alfredo in his Dutch oven that night, while Shanda cooked up chicken fajitas, beans and rice. The next night, Tim barbecued chicken three ways, and Scott cooked up a vat of chili. On Saturday morning, I baked a cheesy egg, bacon and biscuit casserole in my own Dutch oven, which the kids loved.
Mark wanted to make a recipe he learned at Scout camp. But he's Mark, and there were lots of shiny things to distract him, so after an hour, he set out a Dutch oven filled with three poorly peeled and cubed potatoes with some bacon bits tossed in.
"What is THAT?" Scott asked, shaking his head.
"It's pathetic!" Tim scoffed. "You should lose a merit badge for that! Seriously, I am taking a merit badge away."
"I'll give you a merit badge for it," Smed said. "A badge with half a donkey on it--guess which half?"
And yeah, that pretty much described Mark's effort in cooking--half-assed.
Scott salvaged the meal, folding in cheese, spices and other good things, and salvaged the meal. The potatoes turned out fantastic, even though it took so long to cook, it eventually became lunch instead of breakfast.
But as usual, Kim won the crowd over with her fresh blueberry cobbler (also cooked in a Dutch oven--best camping accessory EVER!). All the Dutch oven food came out great, but it's impossible to beat Kim's cobbler--it honestly is the best food ever.
We spent most of our weekend moving between the camp site and the beach. Hannah, Tim and Nic tried swimming, but for some reason, the beach was filled with rocks this year. Hannah could tolerate the cold ocean, but said the rocks pounded her between waves.
So instead of swimming, we rode bikes, chilled at camp, walked on the beach, or visited the nearby caves.
There was one activity that brought the whole family together, though--throwing rocks. (I never realized how much my family likes to throw rocks!) Grant and Johnny spent the whole weekend starting tiny avalanches by pounding the cliffs with rocks. Mark and Nic joined in, and they all tossed rocks into the ocean.
Even my mom and Gabi got into it. There was a beautiful hill of ice plant across from us, which turned out to house the entire park's squirrel population. It was filled with fat squirrels who flooded our site four or five at a time. They loved my car, hiding under it or climbing up into the wheels. They also loved our picnic table, which we'd loaded down with fruit, bread and other supplies. They were brazen, fearless little critters, running right past us to assault our flimsy packaging and feast upon our food.
My mom and Gabi weren't having any of it. Gabi started chucking pebbles at them, but just as I was yelling at her, my mom sidled up with her own fistful of stones. I thought she was going to tell Gabi to stop, but no--she had a whole pocket full of stones. She wanted to join Gabs on the hunt.
I was mortified--I hate squirrels, but I'm totally against harming any animals (even squirrels--seriously, I hate squirrels!). But she wasn't hurting anyone, Gabi pointed out--the squirrels thought she was feeding them, and actually ran toward the pebbles. Ugh...
I made them stop anyway. But Gabi was determined--she grabbed Grant's bike, and rode it through the campsites, chasing down squirrels and screaming at them. It was actually very effective, if a little weird!
She even convinced Mark to join her. Here's the squirrel patrol in action.
We have very few photos of the entire family, mostly because Dinsdales are bossy and opinionated and everyone wants to be in charge. So herding them together is nearly impossible--as soon as we all group together, somebody insults someone else, and the photo ops quickly deteriorate. So this photo--with almost all of us--is really a miracle.
We even got a shot of most of the grandkids--just missing Nathalie. :-(
And of course, the boys wanted their own action shot.
On Saturday afternoon, a group of college students on a biking tour took over the group site behind us. Our kids quickly friended them, joining in on some weird game where you throw giant wooden chess pieces and knock down other chess pieces. (Yes, our trip had a theme--throwing things.)
We also had some other visitors--skunks. They invaded our site each night, sending us all into a panic. One bitty guy strolled right past us the first night, running toward our tents. The second night, a skunk sidled up to our camp fire while we out hunting grunion. We returned from the beach, and again flew into a panic, trying desperately to shoo him away without getting sprayed.
Because the bikers were so nice, Mark warned them about the skunks. They barely acknowledged him, blowing him off, but 30 minutes later, another camper shouted at them excitedly.
"Hey, college kids, a skunk just went in your tent!" he yelled. "I AM NOT JOKING AROUND! It's in your tent!"
That was followed by many girls shrieking, but they must've successfully scared the varmint away, because it never sprayed. (Well, not us, anyway--another kid told us he saw a group of people in the bathrooms later, who did get sprayed and were washing off the scent.)
My other favorite time was campfire time. I love gathering around the smoky fire, watching the kids try not to stab each other with skewers, or turn their marshmallows into flaming fire bombs. (They were not 100% successful with either.)
The first night, the kids just went full attack on the s'mores--they couldn't cram them in their mouths fast enough. My poor nephew Johnny, who doesn't have a lot of campfire experience, was not digging it. He held his marshmallow about five feet from the flames, and was bummed it was taking so long to cook.
"You don't like the the fire?" Smed asked, guiding him a little closer.
"I don't like the hot," Johnny clarified. He stood a little closer, but not too close. He watched his cousins gorge on s'mores, then frowned at his not-roasted marshmallow and the fire and said, "I'm angry!"
"Way to use your words," we congratulated him, as Smed helped him toast the marshmallow.
Sunday was an extra-busy day. It was Father's Day, and my birthday, although my loving son told me we were mostly celebrating Father's Day because I was outranked--there were five dads there and only one of me. (We'll see what that little rat gets for HIS birthday next year!)
I really didn't care. All I really wanted for my birthday was to spend it with my family...and I certainly got that.
Oh, I also got a bonus gift--whales! That's right, a whole pod of whales appeared on the horizon that morning. At first, we just saw their water spouts, but soon, one whale breached, and the show was on. We started seeing whale tales left and right, slapping the water, and calling all the other whales to breakfast. It was so cool! We stood there on the edge of the beach, passing around binoculars, and watching whales surface for a good hour.
Sunday was also a busy day because our campers were coming and going. Smed, Shanda, Scott, and their kids all packed up to leave. In their place, Kelley, Rob, and Romi arrived, straight from the airport. (They flew in from Baltimore that morning. And Rob was gracious enough to drive all the way to Refugio, which was not, as Kelley repeatedly told him, in Malibu. Poor Rob thought he had a 20 minute drive from the airport--not a two HOUR drive!)
It was so great to see the Gludts. I haven't seen them in a couple years. Romi can be kind of shy, so I figured I'd give him a little space to warm up to us all first (Dinsdales are a loud and overwhelming group.) But Romi forgot he was shy--and three minutes into our visit, he grabbed my hand and dragged me down to the beach, to frolic in the cold ocean. So much for being shy!
The Gludts, Mark and I strolled down the beautiful beach, exploring the caves and digging up sand crabs (Romi was not a fan!). It was so serene, and kind of surreal, all of us together on a random West Coast beach.
It was also beautiful, as evidenced by the sunset. I must have 50 photos of the sun setting over this cove over the years, and still, I can't get enough. It's just so beautiful every time.
We cooked up a ton of burgers for dinner that night (thanks to my awesome Mom, who bought all the groceries!!). Romi, chowing down on his veggie burger, looked over Hannah and her own dinner.
"Is that a burger?" he asked, curiously.
"Yep!" she replied.
"Oh," he answered. "Well, you're obviously not kosher!"
Hannah just cracked up.
Romi was very curious about skunks--he's never seen one, and really wanted to see and smell one.
"Don't jinx us, Romi," I said, very worried, because it was a realistic possibility. Sure enough, when Kim went up to the bathrooms to wash up, a skunk cruised around the building. The whole camp came alive, and I could hear Tim, Nic and Mark shouting, "Skunk!" and aiming their flashlights at it. Romi immediately jumped behind me, though he might've thought twice if he knew I was a bigger scaredy cat than he was!
Romi also couldn't wait for s'mores time, but the weather had other plans. Right after dinner, a crazy wind came through, sending hurricane force gales through the camp. It was a strange wind, blowing down from the mountains, toward the ocean.
Tim built a fire, but the wind fueled the flames, quickly burning through our wood. Kim kindly moved their mini-van to shield us, but the wind still hit us, and it was super cold!
We handed out skewers and s'mores stuff, and told the kids to get on it. It was still dusky, but we were afraid the fire would burn out soon. Finally, at 9:30, we just gave up, and went to bed. I laid on my bed and listened to the howling wind race through camp.
On Monday, we awoke to a clear, beautiful, QUIET morning. It was like the wind had never happened!
Romi couldn't wait to help make breakfast. He carried around the pancake mix until I was ready for it. Nic helped me make and distribute the pancakes, and Mark stayed in bed until well after breakfast AND clean up. The Gludts and I even went for a long walk the other way on the beach--by the time we got back, Mark was just getting out of bed.
While the adults started packing away the camp, Mark and Nic ran off, running wildly up and down the nearby park slide. Romi loved that, jumping right in with the big boys.
We stopped packing briefly when we saw some familiar water spouts out on the ocean.
"Whales!" the kids shouted.
"Whale break," we all said, dropping our equipment and running to the edge of the beach. Kelley thought it was hilarious that everything stopped for the whales.
Pretty soon, we had all the tents down and most of the camp packed up. We'd earned another break, so we lugged our chairs down to the beach for a few last minutes. Most campers left after the weekend, so it was sunny, quiet and peaceful. A seal appeared in the waves five feet offshore, bobbing its head in the surf, and checking us out.
Eventually, we had to really pack up and leave. I was sad to go--Refugio is always fun, but this year was the most fun we'd had. We'd gotten the best camp sites in the park, almost the whole family was there, and we saw seals, dolphins, whales, gophers, and skunks. The brazen squirrels I could've done without, but even they seemed a small price to pay for such a wonderful weekend.
We'll see you again next year, Refugio...
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