Summer of 94. I'm recently married and have a 10 month old.. Dad had a stroke the previous February. He's feeling his mortality a bit so decides he wants to do a summer "road trip" with his family. Dad rents a 34 foot motor-home and invites my family along and offers to pay, if I'll do the driving. I'm game for this so we pile in the RV and set out from Beeville TX.
We drive out west to the Grand Canyon, head north through Utah, farther north to Yellowstone and the Tetons. Farther north thru Glacier in Montana and then into Canada on the Ice Fields Parkway all the way to Jasper...and then back south all the way to TX. NOW, you might say "what a fun and scenic trip!"...and you would be right on the "scenic" part. The "fun" part, not so much.
It was fucking miserable. Eight people are not meant to be in that close of a proximity for 8000 miles and three weeks.
There were many misadventures on the Griswoldesque road trip. Among these are the time I fell in McDonald Creek and almost drowned. The time a fucking Bighorn Sheep appeared out of nowhere on a scenic overlook and tried to run me down, and when my ex dropped a $1300 video camera off the side of a footbridge in Malign Canyon. However, the real kick in the balls came when, somewhere in Canada, I think on the way to some fucking waterfall (Takawkaw Falls maybe) that my mom desperately wanted to see, I had a "little incident" with the RV. By little, of course, I mean fucking monumental. You see, as a 20 year old young man with extensive driving experience in Texas, I paid little attention to road warning signs such as "No vehicles over 24 ft allowed on mountain pass roads." This had worked well for me on the other roads, especially in the US. In Canada, not so much. About a half a mile before the top of this pass, I tried to turn the 34 foot RV left on an especially tight switchback, and found that the vehicle was too long.
So now what? Well, as you can imagine, there are not any places where I could simply turn around. At least not without risking a 1000 foot fall off the mountain. SO, I had to REVERSE that fucking RV down the mountain, thru switchbacks, about 12 miles, and over three hours before I found a turnout that I could use. Talk about "ass puckering adventure... Needless to say, oncoming, and descending, traffic was not happy with the idiot from Texas. I received many single finger waves and much verbal "encouragement" on my way down. But i did make it. Probably the worst three hours I ever spent on the road... Ex old lady was so scared and carsick, she actually got out and walked...