October 2024

I wish I could say I live for my faith, or I live to serve and not be served, or something at least remotely valiant and worthy. I just can’t say I’m honestly at that point in my spiritual walk. I want to be, but I’m not there yet. So, for now, I have to say I live for vacations. If you ask nearly any of my friends, who I’m constantly trying to convince to go on a vacation with me, they’ll quickly agree with that statement. Vacations just make me happy. From planning them (loosely, because I hate an itinerary), to counting down the days until they arrive, to actually going on them, and then to basking in all the fantastic memories, I just love to go on vacation. Thankfully, my family is usually on board with this lifestyle. It doesn’t have to always be somewhere elaborate that takes hours of sitting in a car, or plane. Case in point: our recent vacation to Cape Henlopen, just 40 minutes away from home.

Annika’s birthday was quickly approaching, and she just couldn’t nail down how she wanted to celebrate the big 1-5. Did she want to have a few friends over? Or maybe invite just one and go to Sight and Sound, or maybe Broadway? Nothing sounded “just right” to her. Until I suggested a camping trip. I gave her the option of Killens Pond, Trap Pond, Shad’s Landing, or Cape Henlopen. She chose Cape without missing a beat. Chris and the boys were all on board as well. A little schedule change here, a dog sitter there, and an Oma willing to feed the menagerie and we were set with our plans.

In the days leading up to the trip, the forecast looked better and better. Low 70’s, abundant sunshine, and cool evenings. In addition to the perfect weather, our youngest little guy, Calvin, had just recently figured out the whole ride-on-two-wheel-bike thing and was eager to cruise around as much as possible. We packed up the trailer with tents, camping chairs, bikes, cots, our handy half-fridge, lots of extension cords, and we headed out on Tuesday afternoon. Once we arrived at the check in, we discovered that there was a burn ban in effect for the park. However, if you were using fire to cook meals, you could have a “quick” fire. And there was our angle. Although we packed an instapot and skillet, we had suddenly replanned our meals for our hanging Dutch oven. And, you know, you can’t rush a meal cooked over a fire in a Dutch oven.

We pulled into our lot, hopped out of the van, and made quick work of figuring out who’s tent would go where. Within the hour we had all 4 tents up and a majority of the beds made in them. Calvin was sharing a tent with Chris and me, Annika had her own, and Owen, Arthur, and Everett were bunking up together. Once we were all settled in a best we could be, the kids were ready to go exploring. I needed to get in a 9mile run for my Tuckahoe 25k training, so I told Calvin and Everett they could ride along with me while I ran. The older 3 Dolder babes were off and out of sight before I could make the first turn out of the campground. Within the first quarter mile I had a feeling the run was not going to go as planned. My shins were screaming, and my body just felt bleh. I pushed through for a half mile before I decided to call it and switch to a walk for the day and reschedule my long run for later in the week.

The boys and I kept going, me shuffling along at a slow jog when I felt like it, and them scooting and an easy cruising speed. We stopped at the “little beach”, went on to the playground, where we found Annika, Owen, and Arthur, and then we all headed to the big beach. Calvin got ahead of me when we came into the parking lot of the bathhouse, and he went barreling up the ramp on his bike. Little to his knowledge, the other side of the ramp was not more ramp. He came to the top of a set of steps so quickly he didn’t have a chance to stop, and he Evil-Knieveled his way down the stairs, landing very dramatically in front of a gaggle of grannies coming off the beach. They fussed and worried over him as only sweet little grannies can, and soon his tears were gone, and he had a few extra Band-Aids in his pockets.

We strolled down the boardwalk to the beach and enjoyed the off-season ease of our Delaware beaches. There were a few people around, but there is something so special about being out on the sand without hundreds of tourists distracting you from the natural beauty of the shoreline. We putzed around for about 30 minutes before turning around and heading back to the campsite. Once we got back, Chris realized we hadn’t packed a can opener. I headed out to the nearby outlets, bought a basic can opener, swung into an adult beverage store for some ciders, and was back at camp within 30 minutes.

Chris made a delightful meal over the fire, I cleaned up and did the dishes in the bathhouse sink, and then the older boys and I went for a walk in the dark to Fort Miles. Surprisingly, the observation tower was still open at 8:30 at night, so Owen, Arthur and I climbed up to the top. The view was obviously muted in the dark compared to the daylight, but it was still neat to see the area businesses and communities twinkling with lights from that height. We climbed back down and headed on to the lookout point. We could smell the salty air and hear the persistent crashing of the waves, but all we saw were a few far-off floating lights from freighters and specks of stars in far off space. It’s not very often that I get to spend one on one, or even two on one time with Owen and Arthur. They’re both growing into that stage of boyhood where their mom isn’t exactly the coolest person they can be seen with, but they still can’t totally hide their affection for me. I absolutely cherish the matureness of our relationships now but still crave that mommy love that used to radiate from them. Once we returned to the campsite, we all decided it was time for showers and sleep. Crawling into our mega queen-sized air mattress nest, I quickly fell asleep happy, tired, and content.

The next morning started out with a ride to Fort Miles, this time with the whole family, but Annika veered off and headed to the beach to work on her Bible study for youth group. I should take a page from her book on spiritual progression. Chris, and the boys, and I all played around on our bikes on the small paths around the fort. We wove in and out of the trails and eventually completed the 3-mile loop around the park. We returned to camp, but the boys still wanted to adventure out a bit more. Owen, Arthur, Everett, Calvin and I headed back out on the bikes and ended up at the North Point of the park. We wove in and out of the old soldier camp and found our way to the big satellite tower where we challenged a very brave and feisty crab to a game of chicken. Little crab-dude lost his nerve at the last minute and scampered off down the road with his pincher clicking in defiance. We played around at the point for a while, some staying dryer than others, and then headed back to camp. Along the way back Owen decided to wonder off on his own and eventually reconnected with the rest of us at the playground. He regaled us with a tale of another game of chicken, but this time with an ornery squirrel. The squirrel got away unscathed, but Owen flew off his bike and ended up a layer of skin on his hip lighter. Cape Henlopen wildlife: 2, Dolder family: 0.

That afternoon, Chris and I were itching to go for a faster ride, so we bartered with the boys that they could work on scooping out the innards of their pumpkins while we did the 15 miles loop of the breakwater trail. They agreed, but first I had to go back out to the outlets to buy a decent carving knife and scooper spoon for their Jacko lanterns. Once back from the second outing from camp, we carved the tops off their pumpkins and left them with instructions to not use the knives on either the pumpkins, or each other while we were gone. Chris and I sped around the trail at nearly top speed the whole way except where we were forced to slow down for narrow paths or busy sections. Doing anything with Chris is so much more comfortable than with anyone else. We don’t have to make small talk, many times we can communicate without words, and we don’t have to prove anything. Unless that relentless urge to jovially compete rears its head, then all bets are off and we’re at each other’s heels to win. When we returned to the campsite the boys had nearly all lost interest in the task of pumpkin carving sans carving. Our arrival dawned the next step of actually wielding knives to create their imagined pumpkins of doom and fear. Arthur started out on his while I was discussing Calvin’s options of my limited carving abilities. In one quick motion Arthur went from leaning over his pumpkin in deep concentration to cradling his hand and turning away from me. I knew before I saw the red drips that he had sliced something open. Sure enough, after some convincing, he presented his wound. From the angle I was looking, and in the manner that he was holding his fileted finger, it didn’t look too deep. We scurried over to the bathhouse, a trail of red drips scattering along our way, and cleaned out his cut as best we could. I had him wrap his pitiful pierced pinky in paper towels and hold steady pressure on the site for some time. After about an hour it looked like the bleeding had stopped. We doctored up the injury with a few band aids and collectively decided we would buy some triple antibiotic and more appropriately sized bandages when I took Annika and Owen to meet a friend who would drive them to youth group that evening. As the afternoon wore on Arthur became less and less willing to join us in anything that took us away from the campsite. He is a tough guy and won’t usually admit to being in pain, but he wasn’t able to fake it very well this time. Closer to the time I had to leave to drop the older kids off I suggested Arthur go get a shower. When he came back, I took another closer look at the wound and realized a little Neosporin and drug store bandage wasn’t going to cut it.

Arthur and I spent a surprisingly speedy evening in the ED at Beebe getting his laceration sutured up. We were honestly in and out of there in less than 90 minutes. He felt better, I felt better, and we were back at the meeting place to pick Annika and Owen up on time. Couldn’t have worked out much better. (Other than it not having happened at all.) We all returned to camp to enjoy another masterfully crafted fire roasted dinner. After a round of s’mores and some family time around the fire, we all headed to bed.

Thursday morning both Chris and I decided to put in some miles on our feet. I had to make up my 9 mile run from Tuesday, and Chris wanted to get in a few miles himself. I had already mapped out a route in my mind that would get me my desired distance, but chris wasn’t as set in his distance goals. Calvin also wanted to tag along on his bike. The three of us stuck together for about a mile before Chris and Calvin veered off on a side trail while I stuck to my plan. I ended up really, really, REALLY enjoying the run. I stuck to a few single-track trails for the first few miles before merging onto the popular Gordon’s Pond Trail. As much as I hate retracing steps on my runs, this route was somewhat new and interesting, so I went with the out and back approach. Before I knew it, I was back at camp inhaling a scrumptious scrapple sandwich fresh off the skillet. My man is really one of the best.

We all went on to spend the day on little hikes, bike rides, and the boys and I even climbed a tree or two. Annika had a friend visit and the two of them spent the afternoon on the beach chatting. Eventually, all the kids and I decided to head back down to Herring Point to go play on the beach before the sun dipped too low. Owen and Arthur were in a fury to be in the lead, and they shot right past the turn off for Herring Point. Later we found out they trucked all the way to the end of the trail before they realized we weren’t behind them. Calvin, Everett, and I spent some time climbing around on the rock jetties and avoiding the plethora of photographers and their clients that were out on the beach during the spectacular golden hour. When we returned to camp, Oma was there for a visit. We enjoyed our last evening by the campfire eating some delectable beef stew and ciders. It had been another fantastic day.

Friday morning, we all took our time sipping our coffee and yoo-hoos. Once motivation found us, we had camp broken down and packed up by 10am. It had been a lightning fast 4-day trip, but we had intentionally (and unintentionally) packed a whole boatload of memories into that short time frame. The weather had been perfect, the company had been perfect, and the memories will be perfect for years to come.