Butterscotch Milkshakes
By Laytonville, my stomach was grumbling and so was my passenger. I considered pulling into the next rest stop to have lunch. No reason to eat fast food when there was a three-burner stove, an oven, and a microwave tagging along, although the microwave requires a 120V hook-up.

A curious sign on the left had me brake hard and cut across the road. The spontaneous maneuver elicited a "whoa!" from the rear seat. I figured the Yukon's regenerative braking system, designed to recapture some of the vehicle's kinetic energy while under braking, just received a good jolt.

The Chief Drive-in & Laundromat-now that was a combination I couldn't pass up. We didn't need a washing machine, but we were certainly ready to eat. Crossing the gravel parking lot, Kimi raised a good question. What's a drive-in? She's all too familiar with the fast-food drive-thru, but this place looked like a regular restaurant.

I told her about roller-skating waitresses and meals that hung from car doors. I also pointed out that this was before my time. I'm not sure if her skepticism stemmed from my explanation or from the idea that anything could predate her dad. I ordered butterscotch milkshakes with our burgers. We continued along Highway 101 as it weaved through thickening forests and little cluttered towns that once depended on chopping them down.

Humboldt Redwoods
When we arrived at Humboldt Redwoods State Park and Hidden Springs campground, I was thankful the sun was still high. For the past week I've worried about parking the Ex-Port on my own in a tight campsite. It's been a woodpecker ceaselessly tapping at my temples. Dad could see over the low-riding Nimrod, and of course Mom was there with directions. "Left. Left! No, the other way."

Luck fell my way. The patch of asphalt that created our parking site was angled so I needed only to pull a few feet forward, pitch the Yukon's wheel, and roll back. I still jumped out of the driver seat a half-dozen times to be sure I wasn't backing over a redwood sapling or something worse.

Humboldt Redwoods State Park covers nearly 53,000 acres, of which over 30 percent is untouched old-growth forest. Yet in this incredibly beautiful campground, the visiting population seemed low for this time of year. The park ranger, a young woman with round cheeks and a blonde ponytail protruding from her cap, confirmed that attendance was unusually light.

A Chance to Explore
Once the trailer was positioned and the Yukon parked, Kimi stepped from the truck. She eyed the surroundings tentatively. Our bit of wilderness was thick with greenery: oak, low manzanita, broad branching buckeye, and of course the steadfast sentinels of Coastal Redwoods.

I told her not to venture far, but she hardly left my side as I set up the trailer. When I was a kid, I was so eager to explore our campground that my mother threatened to lash a rope between me and the Caprice's bumper. I couldn't wait to explore, to chase any creatures living nearby, and to see if other kids were camping with their families and to find out where they were from.

Kimi remained close so I put her to work. Like the Yukon, the Feather Ex-Port was a hybrid of sorts. While it was a hard-sided camper, the sleeping quarters folded out like a popup tent trailer. In towing mode, it measured a little more than 17 feet long, but once parked the forward and aft folding beds expanded its length to 21 feet 5 inches.

The beds opened easily from the outside. Enclosed in canvas, they had large netted windows offering superior ventilation. That said, the two queen-sized sleeping areas tended to be cool on chilly nights. Luckily, the camper's gas heater warmed the interior quickly.

One drawback to the forward sleeping shelf was that when lowered it blocked access to the rear cargo area of the Yukon. You need to either remove your gear first or unhitch and move the tow vehicle prior to opening the bedroom.

By dinner, Kimi had yet to investigate our surroundings. She sat on one of the folding chairs as I boiled water for spaghetti and heated up meat sauce. Spaghetti was an easy camping food. Kids love it, it's hard to ruin, and it's easy to store in zip-lock bags.