If you thought my camping recaps were L-O-N-G before, then brace yourselves.
I have some disheartening news.
We were gone a whole extra day this time.
Nevertheless!
I shall recap it all, as this blog serves as my way to record our lives and preserve these moments in time.
Leave now or forever hold your peace.
***
Thursday
The first night we drove. And drove and drove and drove. We left our house at 5pm and arrived at camp at 10pm. Nothing much exciting happened.
Ok, I lied. There were some cows in the road. Or are they bulls? Or heifers? Or rams?
I cannot be certain. Nor do I give a hoot. Although I fear rams might belong to the sheep family.
Confessions of a Lumberjack’s wife feigning to be on a diet: I ate an ice cream cone.
***
Friday.
The girls stayed in my parent’s trailer on Thursday night, so it was just The Lumberjack and I with our boys. Whilst camping our boys wake up and immediately plead for chocolate milk and “CanWeGoSidePlease?!,” which means they would like to go outside post-haste.
Ducks! Quack.
A mama and her babies.
Yikes! Her womb was fruitful, was it not?
In the little bay there, we saw a shipwreck.
And, speaking of shipwrecks . . .
Here is yours truly with bed hair, sans makeup.
I’ll give you a moment to recover from the ghastliness.
After breakfast, it was determined that we must pick huckleberries. I would like everyone to know that I did not complain once. I donned my huckleberry picking clothes and went out in hopes of a bountiful, bear-free, harvest.
While the Lumberjack and the tribal council were scouting for berries, I had some time to work on my awesome photography skills.
Case in point:
My skills amaze even myself.
Incredulous.
Fun Fact: I have not used that demonic Nikon D40 in about 3 months. I unabashedly stole The Lumberjack’s kind, angelic camera from him in order to find inner peace and serenity.
Hark! Huckleberries have been spotted!
We simply cannot believe our luck.
We start them out young.
It’s about time you pulled your weight around here, Little Dude.
Handsome Dude was being counter-productive and was eating what he picked.
Clearly he is not committed to the cause.
That right there, my friends, causes my Lumberjack’s heart to sing.
Some more random pictures from our huckleberry adventure:
For the record, I still loathe the entire huckleberry picking process.
The Lumberjack’s sister, Lisa, and her family.
Talk about starting them out young . . .
Beautiful, is it not?
Time for a group photo!
100 (meaningless) points to anyone who can name the droppings.
So, we picked and hiked and picked and hiked and then we went back to camp for lunch.
Confessions of a Lumberjack’s Wife feigning to be on a diet: I ate a brownie.
Beach time!
My nephew being buried by his adoring cousins.
Sweet Pea and Daisy Mae.
Is that not precious?
Confessions of a Lumberjack’s Wife feigning to be on a diet: I ate a S’more.
Saturday
On Saturday morn, we packed a lunch and hiked 2 miles up the mountain to find the dreaded rock slides.
It was all up hill. Both ways.
The Lumberjack’s brother, Alex, and his gal pal, Holly.
Remember Alex?
Hiking, hiking, hiking.
Attempt to ford the river!
(Name that computer game)
Well. We finally made it to the rock slides. I must warn you that this next picture is . . . disturbing.
My father in law is attempting to be modest, yet there is Alex, just flashing away.
The plan is to put on the garbage bags to make yourself slippery whilst travelling down the rock. The rock slides could be dangerous if you wanted them to be, but if you took it slow, it was fine.
And now, dear readers, I would like to present to you the one and only time that Lumberjill went down the rock slides.
“Now, David. I don’t want to go fast and I don’t want to get hurt and I cannot get my hair wet and don’t you dare let Handsome Dude get hurt.”
Ready for take off.
Did you see that?
He pushed me.
Honestly.
There I go. I even had to get my hair wet a little.
Tragic.
Waiting . . .
Wheeeeee!
There’s “Holly the Imposter” again. She is always trying to show me up.
Darn you, Holly.
Darn you and your adventurous ways.
So, everyone enjoyed the rocks slides and we all got out of there without any broken bones or concussions!
Win!
Oh, for land’s sakes this post has gone on far too long.
I’m calling it quits.
I will try to finish up later this week.
Fat Tuesday is tomorrow!
Happy Monday.
oregon trail! totally oregon trail. Welcome to 1982!
I had to go back and read about the trash bag adventure. My husband would be so jealous. And he would have given me a big push too. Sometime I’ll tell you about how he tried to teach me to waterski. It was not pretty.