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Wouldn't it be nice if life was just one big vacation?  I would prefer it, but unfortunately, it's never going to happen.  So when the Golfer called from work last week and said, "Let's go on one more road trip before school starts," I was all over it.

I pulled out my handy dandy California travel bible, The Unofficial Guide to California with Kids, that has yet to steer me wrong.  It didn't take me long to decide on driving to the central coast of California to a little spot just north of Santa Barbara.

Have you ever booked a stay somewhere, and as soon as you pulled up immediately wanted to extend your stay?  That's how we felt when we pulled up to El Capitan Canyon.  As the Unofficial Guide describes it, El Capitan Canyon is "tucked in a sycamore-and-oak shaded canyon ... a rustic-chic resort with 'safari tents' and cedar cabins."   

In my opinion, this little piece of heaven is a great way to get back to nature without actually having to sleep on the ground (even the safari tents come with regular beds) and every child should have the opportunity to camp out at least once in their life.  To some, maybe staying in a cabin with electricity and a toilet isn't considered "real" camping.  But I say as long as you feel like you're camping, that's all that matters.

The main activity in the canyon is hiking.  Word of warning: hiking with a 2-year-old will result in frustration, both his and yours.  The Monkey started out strong, but ended up on the Golfer's shoulders the rest of the way.  Along the way, we checked out an organic garden along the hillside, fed goats and llamas some hay, saw a little grass snake, and hunted for lizards.  By the time we made it back to our cabin, we were all tired, dirty, and smiling.

Without a television, computer, toys, or PS2 (Playstation 2) to distract our children, they were forced to play outside and discover the world around them.  They played and played outside until they both collapsed, each of them taking a three-hour nap (something the Cheese Eater hasn't done in a LONG time.)  While they napped, I read an entire magazine, did a couple of Sudoku puzzles, and read part of a book, all while sitting on the cabin's front porch enjoying the fresh air and sunshine.  Life doesn't get much better than that.

We took all of our food with us.  Our staples were hot dogs and s'mores.  My boys really don't like hot dogs, but stick it on the end of a wire hanger and cook it open a campfire and suddenly it was the best thing they ever tasted!  As we enjoyed our meal, two deer joined us to do a little grazing of their own.  Humming birds buzzed over our heads and a squirrel, that we named Rocky, discovered his love of Goldfish crackers. 

As the stars came out, we told ghost stories.  The Golfer made up some ridiculous story about a man named One-eyed Bob who worked in a cemetery and walked with a limp (can you say "stereotype") and ate s'mores until the campfire burned out.  I went to bed that night muttering a common phrase that we've used a lot in our family: Today was one of my very best days.

Camping--with or without an in-door potty--is a must when you have children.  Our boys absolutely loved it.  So much so, we decided to make it an annual trip, which gives the Golfer one whole year to come up with some new ghost stories.