Camping: Friday
Aug. 14th, 2005 08:12 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elfs I awoke Friday an hour before everyone else, made myself the first batch of coffee all week that actually tasted good, and finished The Atrocity Archive. That poor book; it has a child's footprint, marshmallow stains, dust on the cover, and a slight scorching across the top. It's almost apropos. When Omaha and the girls awaken, we eat cereal and then break down the campsite.
Breaking down the campsite was an adventure. The girls helped me by folding the tent, putting away their clothes, and policing the campgrounds for fallen trash, of which there was surprisingly little. I packed the roof of the car with more stuff than we left with, but it all sat quite nicely and when webbed into place is going nowhere. Omaha directed the packing of the back of the car, and soon we were ready to go.
We drove up to Tipsoo Lake, ten miles northeast of the campsite, and had our lunches of tuna or PB&J, and then we were off up the trail to Nachez Peak.
Nachez Peak was odd in that it travered from the federal park to a federal forest, so at two points along the trail we passed a tree with all sorts of dire warnings about what you're not allowed to do in a park on one side, and all sorts of dire warnings about what you're not allowed to do in a forest on the other. This trail was middling-length, about 3.5 miles, but the first part was almost entirely up, and Kouryou-chan had chosen not to wear her hiking boots but instead her Dora the Explorer sneakers, which didn't have the traction needed. She kept slipping and sliding and at one point bonked her knee quite painfully. I had to weild the band-aids and BZK.
At one point, we were passed by another family and the young girl of their group was singing a campfire song and our girls just started singing along so naturally and instinctively it was disturbing. "You are now one with the collective," I intoned, making Omaha laugh. We were slathered in sunscreen because this trail was high and almost entirely exposed. It had views across vast flowery meadows, and when we got to a lookout point along a cliff the girls had a giggle experimenting with echos off a sheer mountain face a half mile or so away. We reached an unnamed lake and the girls again waded in to cool their feet and Kouryou-chan got the camera and took pictures. Man, I look grungy.
We made it to the peak, where I shared more GU with Kouryou-chan. Yamaarashi-chan declined, saying she didn't like the texture at all. Smart girl. You don't eat that stuff for the texture. We passed some people on the way down, and Kouryou-chan's skidding and halting became a real problem. She fell once more, re-opening a scab on her knee and making her want to give up and be carried down the mountain.
Yamaarashi-chan saved us all by singing YMCA camp songs, some cute like "Dandy Bear," and some gruesome like "Baby Shark," but all of them with call-and-response or sing-along portions on which Kouryou-chan joined in, and soon she forgot her ouches and the soreness in her calves and the two marched on together. Perfect sisters in so many ways. She really was the hero of the day and helped us make it back to Tipsoo Lake in one piece.
We drove home. I actually listened to Omaha's advice this time (despite strong evidence that men cannot actually hear women's voices clearly) and we were soon back in familiar territory.
Grungy and disgusting as we were, we went to the Claimjumper. Yamaarashi-chan asked "What kind of restaurant is this?" I told it her it was a meat restaurant. "No, I mean, is it Chinese, Japanese, French..." I said, "It's meat, honey. Really." And so it is. Sadly, though, the meat was the least part of the meal for me; the charbroiled asparagus and blue cheese wedge were much more tasty than than ribs.
We got home and immediately dunked the kids into the bath. While we had been gone a new bottle of MOP Kid's Shampoo had arrived in the mail, and we double-dipped their hair and made sure they scrubbed themselves and when they were done we could not see the bottom of the bathtub. Then it was Omaha's and my turn, and we went to work on ourselves. Afterward, everyone got moisturizer for hands, feet, and face, and checked for sunburns. The only one seemed to be on the back of my neck-- all in all, a good record, considering.
We put the food and perishables away, dumped a ton of things into the laundry queue, and went to bed. Oh, it was so nice to sleep in my own, clean bed. I'd let the mattress air out all week, and that with the fresh sheets led to the most delightful and solid sleep I'd had in months.
Breaking down the campsite was an adventure. The girls helped me by folding the tent, putting away their clothes, and policing the campgrounds for fallen trash, of which there was surprisingly little. I packed the roof of the car with more stuff than we left with, but it all sat quite nicely and when webbed into place is going nowhere. Omaha directed the packing of the back of the car, and soon we were ready to go.
We drove up to Tipsoo Lake, ten miles northeast of the campsite, and had our lunches of tuna or PB&J, and then we were off up the trail to Nachez Peak.
Nachez Peak was odd in that it travered from the federal park to a federal forest, so at two points along the trail we passed a tree with all sorts of dire warnings about what you're not allowed to do in a park on one side, and all sorts of dire warnings about what you're not allowed to do in a forest on the other. This trail was middling-length, about 3.5 miles, but the first part was almost entirely up, and Kouryou-chan had chosen not to wear her hiking boots but instead her Dora the Explorer sneakers, which didn't have the traction needed. She kept slipping and sliding and at one point bonked her knee quite painfully. I had to weild the band-aids and BZK.
At one point, we were passed by another family and the young girl of their group was singing a campfire song and our girls just started singing along so naturally and instinctively it was disturbing. "You are now one with the collective," I intoned, making Omaha laugh. We were slathered in sunscreen because this trail was high and almost entirely exposed. It had views across vast flowery meadows, and when we got to a lookout point along a cliff the girls had a giggle experimenting with echos off a sheer mountain face a half mile or so away. We reached an unnamed lake and the girls again waded in to cool their feet and Kouryou-chan got the camera and took pictures. Man, I look grungy.
We made it to the peak, where I shared more GU with Kouryou-chan. Yamaarashi-chan declined, saying she didn't like the texture at all. Smart girl. You don't eat that stuff for the texture. We passed some people on the way down, and Kouryou-chan's skidding and halting became a real problem. She fell once more, re-opening a scab on her knee and making her want to give up and be carried down the mountain.
Yamaarashi-chan saved us all by singing YMCA camp songs, some cute like "Dandy Bear," and some gruesome like "Baby Shark," but all of them with call-and-response or sing-along portions on which Kouryou-chan joined in, and soon she forgot her ouches and the soreness in her calves and the two marched on together. Perfect sisters in so many ways. She really was the hero of the day and helped us make it back to Tipsoo Lake in one piece.
We drove home. I actually listened to Omaha's advice this time (despite strong evidence that men cannot actually hear women's voices clearly) and we were soon back in familiar territory.
Grungy and disgusting as we were, we went to the Claimjumper. Yamaarashi-chan asked "What kind of restaurant is this?" I told it her it was a meat restaurant. "No, I mean, is it Chinese, Japanese, French..." I said, "It's meat, honey. Really." And so it is. Sadly, though, the meat was the least part of the meal for me; the charbroiled asparagus and blue cheese wedge were much more tasty than than ribs.
We got home and immediately dunked the kids into the bath. While we had been gone a new bottle of MOP Kid's Shampoo had arrived in the mail, and we double-dipped their hair and made sure they scrubbed themselves and when they were done we could not see the bottom of the bathtub. Then it was Omaha's and my turn, and we went to work on ourselves. Afterward, everyone got moisturizer for hands, feet, and face, and checked for sunburns. The only one seemed to be on the back of my neck-- all in all, a good record, considering.
We put the food and perishables away, dumped a ton of things into the laundry queue, and went to bed. Oh, it was so nice to sleep in my own, clean bed. I'd let the mattress air out all week, and that with the fresh sheets led to the most delightful and solid sleep I'd had in months.
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no subject
Date: 2005-08-14 11:18 pm (UTC)Family Camping!
Date: 2005-08-16 03:13 am (UTC)At any rate, my husband and I just completed four days of family camping in Minnesota with our children. I enjoyed reading about your trip (it sounds somewhat like ours, with perhaps less complaining about foodstuffs) and wanted to leave a comment.
If you are ever in Minnesota for some reason, check out Jeffer's Petroglyphs, the Upper Sioux Agency, Blue Mound, and Fort Ridgely.
Thanks for writing - I truly enjoy your journal!
Amy
no subject
Date: 2005-08-17 05:36 am (UTC)I'm reminded of the mom who made her kid wear a padded helmet while on the playground.
Re: Family Camping!
Date: 2005-08-17 05:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-08-17 07:07 am (UTC)The trail sounded like the sort of thing extra precautions might be justified for.
You were there, I wasn't. :-)