It’s a blessing and a curse to have a family as far-flung as mine. Not only do we occupy remote and disparate corners of the continent, our geographic history is all over the place: my dad grew up in Nevada, my mom in Ohio. They met in California, then moved to Virginia and later Iowa. Growing up, visiting the grandparents meant at least one full day in the car (sometimes three or more, if we were going to Grandpa’s).

Fortunately, a good portion of my extended family has at least managed to occupy the same time zone. Starting at my dad’s place down at the Southern tip of Baja, we could drive North in a more or less straight line and find my brother, uncle, and grandma in California, and eventually my aunt in Vancouver Island.

My grandma and uncle live in Chico, California, which is actually reasonably close to a halfway point between my family’s Mexican and Canadian outposts. When Sean and I arrived in Chico after visiting San Francisco, Grandma surprised me with some old photos of her own roadtrip to San Francisco back in the 50’s.

I’ve often wondered what it would be like to share photos of my youth with any future generations that might be interested. Will I just direct them to my Facebook page? Will they be able to view my entire life story in photographs just by scanning my face with their brain chips? Quite possibly — but I think these generations will miss out on the satisfaction of holding real photographs (by the edges!) in their hands, turning the crackling pages of a leather-bound album inscribed with dates and names in tidy cursive.

We also went through some more recent photos, including a few shots of my childhood home that sent me on a visceral nostalgia trip. That house was bulldozed to make room for a hog farm several years ago (because, Iowa), but that obliteration is perhaps no less strange than having to see someone else living in the house you grew up in.

Besides the trip down memory lane, Sean and I had a sweet visit full of good food and great weather. While my uncle and grandma were occupied during the day, we explored downtown Chico and lazed about at the local (literal) watering hole, One Mile.

After Chico, we’ll head up towards the Northern extreme of my familial diaspora — my aunt Holly in Vancouver Island — and hit some fun spots in the Northwest along the way. Stay tuned for Portland, Bend, Olympia, and Seattle!