You, Me, and the Dog: Stories From the Mobile Mojo Dojo Casa House: Birthday Party Road Trip

Big Stone Gap

The first song I learned to play on the piano was “Birthday Party” (taught first by Marian during an evening I spent at her house while my parents were out, and then formally by Thema as we worked through “Teaching Little Fingers to Play”). The words and tune ran through my head as we drove out of Nashville, moving with purpose toward Stafford and a very important birthday party.

Here we go, up the road, to a birthday party. (Yes, yes, I know. The actual lyric is up a row, but that’s not what I was humming.)

We did the drive in one shot back in February when we bought the RV and it was brutal so we planned the trip back with 2 stops at Harvest Hosts and one more at a no-frills campground so we could arrive relaxed and with plenty of daylight to spend with the kids of both generations.

Our first night was in the parking lot of a huge church campus near a Burger King. It was quiet, smelled good, and a great place to play fetch with Axel. Our second night was at the town of Big Stone Gap, VA. The actual town was the host, with concrete pads at their riverfront park specifically to welcome us.

The drive off I-81 to Big Stone Gap was through the same mountains as Watoga but more scenic than scarry this time. The village itself was quaint with a bustling downtown. We arrived as they were setting up for their weekend beach party – complete with a shutdown street converted into a sand beach. It was a neat place with an active community, lots of festivals throughout the year, and a decent meal at a local place called Big Cherry Brewing Company. There was also a tangle of low wires hanging across the entrance of the park - I only managed to snag them once.

The drive out of town was wide and steep with sweeping views of valley farms, railroad tracks, and mountain streams. We passed a Rural King. We drove under a monstrous coal conveyor belt kind of thing. We descended through overwhelming greenery. And then we were at I-81.

The no frills-campground was within spitting distance of a truckstop and not configured for rigs our size. Ironically, the potholes were so big that anything smaller than us would probably have been lost forever. But none of that mattered. We slept well, dumped the tanks that needed dumping and filled the tanks that needed filling and it was an easy drive to Stafford for afternoon coffee with the grandkids.

I’d say we spent the next few days catching up, but anyone with experience with an “about to be three”-year old knows there’s no catching up, only endless chasing around. That was fine with this PopPop. We helped out around the house in preparation for the party, watched the annual fourth of July parade, wrestled with how to plug the RV into the house without tripping any circuits (reminded me of the scene in Apollo 13), and packing for our trip to Hawaii.

The Birthday Party itself was grand, so many little kids. More little kids than adults and there were a lot of adults. Emily and Blake were great hosts and Sarah seemed to love every minute. The days passed quickly, summer days filled with lemonade, ice cream, family and the shrieks and laughter of carefree youth and their grandparents.

On Monday morning we loaded up the car, sent Axel off with Renee’s parents, and said goodbye. There was a plane to catch (three, actually) and an ocean to cross.