My father is a train fan. And thus, so are his grandsons. My sister and I take our boys (usually including our husbands) and my parents and head to Baker City for sort of annual trip. We stay one night and include certain things on each trip. We have to eat at the restaurant in Baker called The Junction. There's an impressive model railroad that runs the length of the place. And the food is actually edible.
We stay at a motel that has a pool, so that the kids can swim. This picture was taken shortly before Max puked in the pool. Twice. He wasn't sick; he just had too much fun and swallowed too much water, and up came dinner. And they had to shut the pool down. Man, was I getting glares from the other pool guests. This was one of those times that I like to call "Special Mommy Moments." Don't worry; it was all cleaned up and the pool was back open in the morning.
After we swim, we head to the local Dairy Queen, where we probably doubled their take that night. Max doesn't like ice cream, but they had a purple slushy, so he was in heaven. But then he started complaining that his tummy hurt, and I had visions of him puking every place we visited in Oregon. It's okay; false alarm. We left the DQ, though, just in case and were walking (he was running) along the sidewalk when he tripped and managed to stop himself with his hands, but the momentum tipped him forward and he actually scuffed not his hands or his knees, but his forehead. Poor klutzy kid.
We stay at a motel that has a pool, so that the kids can swim. This picture was taken shortly before Max puked in the pool. Twice. He wasn't sick; he just had too much fun and swallowed too much water, and up came dinner. And they had to shut the pool down. Man, was I getting glares from the other pool guests. This was one of those times that I like to call "Special Mommy Moments." Don't worry; it was all cleaned up and the pool was back open in the morning.After we swim, we head to the local Dairy Queen, where we probably doubled their take that night. Max doesn't like ice cream, but they had a purple slushy, so he was in heaven. But then he started complaining that his tummy hurt, and I had visions of him puking every place we visited in Oregon. It's okay; false alarm. We left the DQ, though, just in case and were walking (he was running) along the sidewalk when he tripped and managed to stop himself with his hands, but the momentum tipped him forward and he actually scuffed not his hands or his knees, but his forehead. Poor klutzy kid.The next day we head to Sumpter and ride the train. 
I usually like to ride outside, but it was so sunny it was making me hot, I couldn't handle it, so we rode most of the way back in the old passenger car. But, the windows are old and unreliable and kept slamming closed, and I was hot and cramped, so I broke the rules of moving between cars while the train was moving and took Max back outside.
After the train ride, we hang around Sumpter, enjoying the traveling Flea Market, greasy fair-like food, and of course, sno-cones.
It's so much fun, I think we'll do it again next year!
I usually like to ride outside, but it was so sunny it was making me hot, I couldn't handle it, so we rode most of the way back in the old passenger car. But, the windows are old and unreliable and kept slamming closed, and I was hot and cramped, so I broke the rules of moving between cars while the train was moving and took Max back outside.After the train ride, we hang around Sumpter, enjoying the traveling Flea Market, greasy fair-like food, and of course, sno-cones.It's so much fun, I think we'll do it again next year!
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