Live Free

San Francisco, August 2015

Last month, I met two of my brothers, my niece, and my mom for a long weekend in San Francisco.  I had not flown in airplane in five years, much less alone, without my little immediate family.  It was a delightful yet surreal experience. San Fran was gorgeous, of course. It was so exciting to explore a BIG city again. To read public transportation maps, to use my street smarts (which are actually quite dull from living the small town Texas life), and to just soak in all the sites and sounds. What struck me the hardest is the way smartphones and tablets have changed the ways of interaction. The last time I lived in a big city, I commuted by metro rail almost entirely. And on the train, you could see people, reading books, newspapers, daydreaming, gazing out the window, nodding off. Sometimes strangers would strike up a conversation. But now, wow...everyone has their eyes glued to a screen. I suppose they are still reading the same type of materials, and no doubt a fair share of social media too. I even noticed people watching movies!  It was so strange. I felt stupefied, as if I were a prisoner who had just been released from a very long sentence -  noticing how overtly the world had moved on without me.   

My smartphone has a bad battery, so if I'm not home with it plugged in the charger, it's more than likely out of juice. I admit, quite unhandy in an unfamiliar city.  GPS does come in handy especially since I've pretty much forgotten that paper maps of a city use to be the way I'd learn my way around a new place. Since I didn't have a screen to glare into, I enjoyed my time people watching...taking it all in. Knitting a row here and there and just letting my mind wonder.  

I loved listening to the vast array of languages spoken all around me. I loved the aroma of ocean air mixed with the scent of eucalyptus. I loved the brisk weather and the beautiful, delicate light that graces the area. I loved that we could walk for 30 minutes across the city and find several distinct neighborhoods each with their own cultural flare. I loved dipping my toes in the ocean and feeling like a giggling child as the waves kissed  my bare feet and my ankles, soaking the bottom of my jeans. Hello sacred world!  I loved that the tour bus driver handled a conflict with a tired and frustrated passenger with politeness and depth of understanding and then once on the road again, cranked up one of my most favorite songs in the entire world  "Me and Bobby McGee."  Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose.  Loved that! 

I loved the few hours I was able to spend in Muir Woods. I'd been before many years ago, but I think this time I appreciated it on a level I didn't the first time I visited. Maybe it's my camera that's taught me how to notice light and the way it gently filters into this ancient forest, giving just enough to illuminate giant trees and prehistoric ferns so gracefully.  Maybe it's the wisdom that comes with age. But those trees...even with the noise of tourists all around, brought such peace and quiet to my soul. The short time there felt spectacularly moving.   

Mostly, I loved spending time with my family.  It's rare that we travel together so this trip was such a blessing for us all.  We are so lucky to have each other. 

 

West Texas

Last month, as part of Byron's birthday celebration, we spent a long weekend in West Texas.  We've driven west, through Texas so many times over the years and I've grown to appreciate that long, open part of our travels. Miles and miles and miles more, there is, what looks to be, nothing. No trees, no rivers, no houses or towns. Just space and lots of time. The endless horizon, that unimaginable dome of a sky sends chills up and down my spine just thinking about it. There is something so therapeutic about passing through.  

But this time, instead of traveling through, only peering to south, west, and north through our car window, we exited off and drove some more long distances deep into the vastness.  We slept a couple of nights in an Air B&B storage container find. Yep, a finished storage container in the desert was home for three nights. 

We explored Marfa (a tiny town with a thriving art scene), Alpine, the Davis Mountains State Park, and the Mcdonnell Observatory.  With an elevation of over 6,000 the Davis Mountains are truly beautiful. Driving the highways out there, I could not get over the range of views. Besides the few roads, it is rare to see obstructions.  The McDonnell Observatory is a world class facility operated by the University of Texas. This part of the country has some of the darkest skies in the world and so it's a spectacular place to view the stars. We attended a star party. We got to sit outside under the stars while an astronomer picked apart the night sky for us with a handy laser.  It was amazing! There were also several telescopes set up to view Saturn, baby star clusters, nebulas, galaxies and other mind-blowing phenomenas. 

Since our return from the trip, we've been home, hunkered down for the hottest and driest part of the year. It's the season of closing the windows and curtains, surrendering to keeping the garden alive,  and venturing out as early or as little as possible. It's bright, hot, and crispy out there. Thoughts of autumn are creeping in.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

To Abiquiu, New Mexico

A few weeks ago, a friend and I took a road trip to New Mexico. This was the first of this sort of a trip for either one of us. By "this sort of trip", I mean one without children or even husbands. We packed up food and a few changes of clothing and headed west in our rental car. 

Miles and miles...of sunflower fields, of windmill farms, of grasslands bursting with violet horsemint, of flat green prairies, of rolling hills, of abandoned towns, of railroad tracks, and then those mountains that make your mouth drop and all the nagging uncertainties and anxieties morph into awe and wonder and peace. 

I love New Mexico. I love the desert. The rocks. The jagged mountains. The quiet. The idea that we are all such tiny pieces to this story, yet, really, we are still so big. So tiny and so big...how can that be? There is so much energy and potential just waiting...

My friend and I  had some great conversations, a few even better hikes, coffee in the afternoon, naps under the sun, and get this...we even treated ourselves to an afternoon of soaking at the local mineral hot springs. 

I woke and slept with the sun. Nothing compares. Why don't I do more of this in my day to day life? 

It was all divine. But then life called us back. And that's a divine thing too! Looking at these photos, I have to admit how odd it is too see this landscape without a dot of Beatrix frolicking through it.  

 

 

Here and There

Do you know of this children's book? It's one of my favorites and ranks up there with classics like Miss Rumphius and The Giving Tree. It's about a little boy growing up in the mountains of Tibet. He likes to fly kites and dreams of travel, of different lands, and of adventure. Alas, he grows up to be a woodcutter, gets married, has children, and never leaves his valley.  He grows old, and one day, he dies. The Great Spirit offers him a choice about how he should like to continue. His soul chooses the Milky Way, and then chooses a star which happens to be our Sun.  The story progresses as the little boy's soul makes choices on his next life lived until he ultimately chooses to return back to the same valley that he grew up in. Full circle. 

We all suffer and we are all broken in variable cases of severity. Oftentimes, over the course of my life, I've grieved over situations that seemed incomprehensible: abandonment by my father, infertility, an on-going struggle with worry and anxiety. Sometimes, I've internally lamented why my soul was plopped down in the dirty South when I had such wanderlust for other lands and experiences.  I have not always been at peace with my story. 

It is a constant battle to remember to embrace the imperfections in ourselves and our histories. I must always remember that I am here for good reason.

We spent a few days last week in sublime, magical New Mexico. Something about that place deeply speaks to my soul. Seemingly, I belong there.  I could live in an adobe cabin or a yurt in a high desert mesa valley. I could hunt for rocks and explore trails and get lost and kiss the sky and take pictures of the sunset and sunrise every single day. I could get use to the a new kind of quiet and stillness that can't be touched in small town suburbia... the coyotes howling in the night and the call of ravens from precarious rocks atop mountains.  I could  stargaze and find myself befuddled by the sight of the Milky Way, completely lost and entirely found. How could all this be? How could it not be?

Instead, my magic brews in this ordinary place. And for now, there must be peace and gratitude. 

Yes, I protect my dreamy far-flung soul like a mama bear. Never do I not want to be amazed. Never do I not want to do my humble part to share the profound beauty of this existence. This is, afterall, my one wild and precious life! I do not take it lightly! But I know enough to realize it serves me not to turn that awe and curiosity and wonder into anything that resembles discontentment or bitterness. Oh is it ever a fine line to walk between honoring the stirrings of the heart and finding peace in the present. 

I am here for a reason. Maybe it isn't for the climate or the geography.  Perhaps it's my task to look more closely for the inconspicuous sublime. To pay attention. Where could it be hiding?  In the face of the limestone riverbeds that run through our town, the blazing mulhy grass seed heads, or a rare thundering downpour that arrives in the middle of the night?

All of those places and more.

It comes to me in real life supportive connections with kind, smart, creative souls I have the pleasure to surround myself with each and every day. It booms with exuberance and passion as it pours out of my daughter's every cell of being.  Without here, none of this would grace my days. I am so grateful for this ordinary life. Of small town grocery stores and librarians who know you by name. Of flat land and gentle rolling hills, of our little blue cottage and our slow to realize gardening attempts. Of the priviledge to currate a childhood worth savoring. Of a life abundant in love and simple gifts.

There is meaning in all of it and I know my story will make perfect sense one day. 

 

Camping on Mustang Island

 

 

 

These photos are from a beach camping trip we took a couple of weeks ago.  We camped on Mustang Island which is part of the barrier island that runs along the coast of Texas. The barrier island is largely an undisturbed national seashore - the longest in the world! It's really quite beautiful! 

However.

What was suppose to be a weekend of camping turned into a one nighter. Uh huh, yep. We've all had those sorts of camping adventures, right? I've camped on the beach a couple of times with Byron long before Bea was born. It was, well...sandy and messsy and sandy and...you know, everywhere, but I don't remember the intensity of wind that we felt on this particular beach camping trip. The wind was crazy. It whipped our tent all night long. Even while we were zipped up tight (ah...I'm claustrophic!) sand was still blowing inside of our tent. We got 0 sleep. None. At. All. At three in the morning, Bea groans, "Daddy, help us! I've got sand in my mouth!" Daddy to the rescue!  Sadly, this was out of Byron's realm of problem solving so it seemed. We all contemplated packing it up and going home. Instead, he and Bea slept in the car and I slept in the tent. Well, none of us really slept. We dozed until daybreak.

"Together we laughed for pure joy - he a baby meeting for the first time the wild tumult of Oceanus, I with the salt of half a lifetime of sea love in me. But I think we felt the same spine-tingling response to the vast, roaring ocean and the wild night around us."  Rachel Carson,  The Sense of Wonder 

And then we got to watch the sun come up over the gulf and that pretty much made us feel alive, awake, small, blessed, humbled.  We got to see flocks of pelicans fish as the sky awoke from indigo and violet to the palest of pinks and then finally to bright pink and orange.  We combed the beach for seashells and found a near perfect sand dollar.

The water was so warm and restorative. The pallet of the sea and sand was calming and timeless.  Bea loved every minute of it, especially since our neighbor loaned her their boogie boards. There is just something about a carefree day at the beach! We should do this more often.

Summer 2014 Road Trip: Western South Dakota and Yellowstone National Park

Thank you for all your sweet words regarding our visit to the Ingalls Homestead. It was a really special field trip and I'm so happy we got to go.

I have been so slow at blogging these days.  Mostly, I think life is just so very full. By the time I make my rounds around my real world people and places, this virtual hobby of mine oftentimes takes a seat in the way back.  Also, this summer,  the house is not settled and quiet (ie: kid in bed, fast asleep) until 8:30ish and by that point,  I just don't have it in me to sit at the computer and write or fuss with uploading photos. Lastly, I am really work on showing up only if I have something to chat about and not because I feel like I need to put another post out there. 

With that said, I do want to post about the rest of our road trip from earlier this month. After we left De Smet, South Dakota, we drove west through the Bad Lands and the Black Hills.  

The Bad Lands were spooky! "How in the world," I kept asking myself.  I definitely had never seen a landscape like it before. Byron and Beatrix loved it!! I was perfectly content just driving right through!  I long for life, any life, you see.  

And then, well, we just had to stop in at Mount Rushmore! 

We camped in Custer State Park which is right in the heart of the Black Hills. Such a pretty area of South Dakota! We were all pleasantly surprised by the lushness, the stunning mountain lakes,  and the exquisite rock formations. We would have definitely loved to have more time to explore there and we hope to return soon.

From there, we headed into Wyoming and then up to Montana. Travelling through the West (any part of the West) is pretty mind blowing to me. From Texas all the way up northward for hundreds and hundreds of miles there is nothing but sky and plains or high desert mountains. It's such spectacular country and so humbling. To think of the many, many people who traversed this land by foot, by horse, or wagon. I can never quite understand the determination and the strength that must have been required. To move, to hope, to perservere, to survive...

We spent three days in Yellowstone National Park. It was so beautiful! We got to see numerous buffalo, pronghorn, bighorn sheep, and elk. We did not see any bears (which I have mixed feelings about) or wolves!

On our first morning there, Beatrix was able to attend a young naturalist class taught by one of the park rangers. What a cool setting for a nature class, right?! The irony of this story is that the class was held right at the entrance of the park where the post office, visitor center, and administrative buildings are located and throughout the entire class there was a jackhammer pounding in the background due to renovations that were happening in one of the nearby buildings.  So, the park ranger kept apologizing for the noise while she tried to talk over the construction. We all still enjoyed! And check out the wolf pelt in her hands! 

We enjoyed a couple of the easier hikes (5 year old and out of shape mama friendly).  I found myself in the land of wildflower meadows. Oh my, that is my happy spot indeed!     

 Some of my happy memories from our time there include:

~  hiking down a mountain through a hail storm! The hail started out nice and petite, but actually quickly evolved into large hail before all was said and done. The ponchos were pulled out of the backpack. We three had to huddle undle the canopy of a tree for a few minutes. Beatrix was a bit frantic since she has a new fear of storms!  We were pretty soaked by the time we made it down. No worries, though, the trailhead was at one of the big lodges.  Sitting on the lodge front porch, sipping hot coffee, watching the storm finish up was the perfect way to end that hike.  Beatrix got to have a carton of chocolate milk and eat hailstones so all was right in her world too. 

~  Bea...galloping along the trails, singing Simple Gifts, over and over.  She was a real trooper!!

~ This hike. What a fun and beautiful hike through meadows that were once woods before the big fire of 1989. The weather was crisp and cool. The views, the quiet, the stillness, the three of us ... it was a pinch-me moment.  Too gorgeous for words. 

~  Bea's enthusiasm for hydrothermic activity was pretty darling too! Upon seeing the rainbow springs, boiling mud, and rock vents letting out steam, she declared that this all was "AWESOME!"  

She insisted that we tolerate the amusement park crowds and watch Old Faithful blow. We did. It was pretty cool!  She LOVED it!! 

While in Montana, we stayed in a renovated schoolhouse just north of Yellowstone right across the border in Montana.

The owner, Sarah, refurbished it, salvaging most of the logs and timber and then finished it in the most earthy and warm manner. The cabin was rustic yet modern -- perfectly Montana-ish and was definitely one of the nicer places we've ever stayed at while vacationing!  

I love travelling with Beatrix. Byron and I joked with each other at one point how we really hoped that we were imprinting something good for the girl because, sure, there where moments full of whining and complaining and goodness,  that gets old.  But after being on the road for a couple of days, we all felt settled into the rhythm of travelling. She made a nest for herself in the backseat out of pillows, blankets, pencils, markers, and audiobooks while Byron and I took turns being behind the wheel.  It was then that I was accutely aware that these memories we made of rest-stop picnics, campsite orientations, visitor centers, gas station fill ups, and days and days of just being together in the car watching the world go by are memories that will stay with her, hopefully forever.  This is it...we are her crazy family!

 

Summer 2014 Road Trip: Ingalls Homestead, De Smet, South Dakota

We've been reading Laura Ingalls' Little House book series since Beatrix was nearly 4. I remember the day we began. It was a dreary, cold wintery afternoon. A day in which most likely was accessorized with hot tea or hot cocoa in our chilly hands. It was a pile of blankets on the couch day...a wool socks and layers kind of day.  Little did I know, on that gray afternoon how much the stories of Laura and her family would shape the reality of our time since then.  During  bedtime, on road trips, read by myself, and Byron, or listened to on audiobooks -- Laura Ingalls has been a constant in our family. It's quite incredible to say, how is it that I can say this, what  a strong girl I get to raise...but my daughter worships not princesses, but pioneer girls and boys, more specifically, Laura and Almonzo. Oh, just as Laura did, she loves Manzo some kind of fiercely.  Between him, Pa, and her own daddy, she is well equipped with examples of good men in her life.  

Last week, we travelled from Texas to South Dakota to visit the Ingalls Homestead.  On the way there, we listened to Little Town On the Prairie. The audiobook ended literally minutes before we arrived in De Smet.  As we turned down the dirt lane that led us to the homestead, Beatrix rolled down the window and, bless her heart, in her dreamy little voice said, "I think I can smell the violets, Mama!"  Oh yes, being there was a dream. What a dear, sweet visit we had.  The homestead is situated on Pa's original homestead claim. The current buildings were either recently built, moved, or reconstructed there. They aren't original. Nevertheless, the experience is lovely.  As one of the guides declared, the only thing original at the current homestead is the land.

Oh, but the land. 

We were on the land that Pa settled.  

That fact alone had me swooning.  We strolled the perimeter of the property just as Laura and Mary strolled. Beatrix ran through fields of tall grasses just as Laura ran. We slept in a covered wagon and experienced the vastness of the prairie sky just as Laura experienced it. We felt the prairie winds whip through our hair just as Laura felt it.  Oh, being there on that humble parcel of land was just magnificent! 

We slept two nights on the homestead in this little covered wagon. It had a double matress towards the far end and a roll out twin mattress. The wagon had electricity which was nice. We were able to charge our phones and the camera battery. On our first night, a huge thunderstorm rolled through. The winds were whipping, the thunder roaring and the rain pounded down on us for hours! During the storm, I think we each took turns peeking out the window, slightly concerned by the force of the winds, slightly wondering if we'd have to make a run for the bathhouse/underground shelter.  Turns out, we were safe and sound in the little wagon. We stayed just as dry as can be. The storm took with it the blistering heat and the next few days there were cloudy and cool. Perfect weather for us Texans.  

This is an example of what a dugout shelter might have looked like. The Ingalls lived in one during their years in Minnesota. If you look closely at the second image of the dugout, you can see  the wall of sod from the indoors -- roots and all. This little dugout was tiny and humble, but so sweet and lovely. 

 Oh, the sky. It goes on forever. 

Bea loves camping chores. Helping to wash the dishes is one of her favorite responsibilities. 

 

One of Bea's favorite spots to explore was the haybarn. This barn was built as Pa described his. In the barn, there was a calf, chicks, a few goats, and kittens.  The kittens actually roamed the homestead after dark and were quite sociable. One night we even found one sleeping on our covered wagon steps. Too bad, Bea was (finally) asleep at that point.  

This is Ma's Little House. The homestead organization built this little house using the specs provided by Charles Ingalls kept on file by the town of De Smet. It is also situated on the property where Ma had described it to be. 

This is behind Ma's house. In the distance you can see a few tall cottonwood trees.  Those are among the very few still living that were planted by Pa. 

 All of the buildings were entirely welcoming to children and adults alike. Since there were no original artifacts (only representations of what the Ingalls might have had), things like the organ and Ma's sewing machine and the table place setting could be touched, explored, and played with which helps to create a sense of really living out the experience....of really being there, with Laura. 

 The little kitchen table in Ma's Little House. Isn't it the sweetest? 

 There was a giant full moon during our stay. It lit the entire prairie like a football field at night.  

Since we stayed on the homestead and we were on a flat prairie there was so much visible room to roam. Beatrix loved exploring on her own. While Byron and I cooked or tidied up the camp sight, she explored the horse barn or the hay barn. One morning, I found her washing laundry outside of  Ma's Little House with a few other visitors.  She practiced a lot of courage introducing herself to new friends over the entire trip, hoping to find a kindred spirit and someone her age to play with.  What a big girl she is! 

This is the barn where they keep the ponies, mules, and horses. The homestead offers free wagon and pony rides to all of its visitors.  

Beatrix did an amazing job driving the pony cart! Isn't it the most precious set up? And boy, wouldn't it be fun to run errands around town like this? 

This school house is on the edge of the property. We took a covered wagon ride to it. Bea got to hold the reins and drive the wagon for a bit! On the ride there we were able to see tall grass meadows, wildflowers, and the oat and wheat fields. Dreamy!  I couldn't help but think of the many, many wagon and sleigh rides that Laura and Almanzo had together in this area.  What were their paths? Where are the paths today? Is there any sign of their times together there remaining? 

 

 Oh, the wildflowers and grasses were mesmerizing. I might have taken hundreds of images right there in the fields. 

 The wheat was still growing.  

 This is a sweet little chapel that was just about destined to be torn down. Instead, the owners of the homestead saved it moved it here a few years ago.  Now, couples use it for wedding ceremonies.  

 The town of De Smet is just as interesting. These two houses are orignial and can be toured. The white house  is the surveyors house and is where Laura and her family spent their first winter in De Smet. She was overcome with fascination by how large and luxurious it was. The blue house that I am sitting in front of was Pa and Ma's last house. Pa built this one in town after he sold his homestead. He actually only owned his homestead for about 7 years, I think. After he sold the land, they moved into town and spent the rest of their years here.  On Main Street, every building has a sign in front of it indicating what business was originally there. It's fascnating to see where Royal and Almanzo's feed store was... Where Pa's store was... Where Laura purchased her name cards... Where she worked as a seamstress...And so much more. What an interesting walk down memory lane.  And it also makes one realize that these Little House books are the stories of just one endearing family that happend to be recorded...that enable generation after generation to fall in love with these real people and their real lives. Think of all the stories in the history of human kind floating around us. How many Pa's and Ma's and Laura's and stories of kindness and hard-work, and fiddle music and cozy family moments go unknown except only to those who lived them in the moment. 

 On our last night at the homestead, we attended a Little House Pageant. It was held outside on the open prairie. Bea was smitten with the performance especially since the theme song was "Simple Gifts", one of her current favorites. 

 Oh Ingalls Homestead we won't forget our visit anytime soon!   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

mid way through summer.

Today is July 16, 2012. I'm sitting here in the quiet, gray dusk of an ever so ordinary summer evening. I can feel this season, this time of endless days and weeks home together, slipping away ever so lightly. The cycle continues. My little heart resist just a bit for the uncertainty of what lies ahead. 

These weeks have been good. There's been rumbling thunderstorms, slow mornings, the occassional afternoon ice coffee pick me up, bike rides, and swim lessons. As  uneventful as it all sounds, it's the kind of eventfulness that I cherish the most. 

In lieu of daytime blogging hours, I try to jot down or photograph a bit of this and that through instagram, facebook, and momento.  I find myself wanting to record her words, songs, and stories more and more.  A new phase in the constant fleetingness of all this, I suppose.  And so I might snap a photo with my phone of a moment, but then include a quote of something ridiculously funny, thoughtful, or just cute that she says to help capture the essence of  our days. I don't know. I'm trying to develop a habit of letting go when it comes to journaling. To focus more on the now than on what I want to say about the now, the yesterday, the tomorrow, etc.  

A little more moderation. A little less pressure. 

These photos are from a couple of weeks ago. Beatrix and I took a road trip to Louisiana all by ourselves. It was our first time to make the 8 hour trip there just the two of us. Mother/daughter bonding at its finest, I suppose. While in Louisiana, she and I daytripped to Lafayette, where my brother lives and where I went to college. It's a sweet little town. We spent the morning at Vermillionville, an Acadian living history museum that I had not visited since we moved from the state many years ago. She had a blast going in and out of all of the village buildings and homes. "Oh, this is a lovely home!" She would exclaim over and over at the entrance of each house.  

At the sight of some gathered green beans in the outdoor cooking area, she took to shelling them. Just like that. Like it was the most natural task to do. It occupied for a good 15 minutes. She even snuck off with a few red beans in her pocket, "to plant, mom."  Love the self-starter in her. 

When we visited the chapel, she perched herself at the front of the alter and broke down into her own version of  "Alleluia" from The Sound of Music. 

I fell in love with this color combination of the schoolhouse and was transported to my childhood at the whiff  of a fig tree full of ripe fruit. 

It was fun to geek out over the architecture and the rustic furnishings in the buildings.  

 

 

3:: Road trip, 2012

On our road trip to Colorado that we took a few weeks ago, we had the sweet pleasure of spending one of our nights in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Oh dear, how I do love this town perched high upon the desert mountains. 

We walked around the historic district for a couple of hours before settling in at our campsite. I marvelled at the adobe architecture and it's rustic, old world charm. Pure bliss for my wanderlust soul.

 

2::Road trip, 2012

Once we made it to our destination up in the mountains, we had the great fortune of getting excellent hiking path recommendations from an old friend of Byron's who called the area home. 

There was one hike specifically, I do not intend on forgetting anytime soon. It was the most rigorous hike I've ever done. And, I know, that's not saying much for most everybody else. But, it's saying plenty for me. My workouts consist of leisure walks and bike rides around town with my 30 pound tot in tow. This hike felt different. Very different. 

We drove five miles down a gravel road to reach the trail head. We got to see lots of  ranch land where the cows roamed freely around the mountain side forest and meadows. We even had to stop the car to allow for a herd to finish mossying about the road. They drank fresh water that flowed through the streams from the mountain top. The young calves followed behind the mamas.  These cows looked so happy! What an idyllic scene it was!  Beatrix was tickled by the sight! 

45 minutes after turning down the gravely road, we reached the trail head. We hiked for four miles up a 14,000 foot moutain! The trail was magnificent! High meadows, apsen groves, forest...Views surrounding us in every direction. Of course, the photos do no justice, especially since I forgot to switch my lens out and had to use my super duper zoom lens. 

I must be honest. I did have a temper tantrum when we were about three quarters up the trail. I was so darn hungry. We were out of water. It had been a very long while since we'd seen another hiker. I told Byron we were sort of crazy doing this with our child. I started thinking about all of the what if's.  No cell phone power. No water. Very little food. Our little one. It gets very cold at night. Would anyone know to search for us????

I forgot exactly what he told me, but basically he said he wasn't turning around without reaching the lakes at the top. He said, we could stay put and wait for him. I remember telling him I wasn't going to sit hear and WAIT for him. No way we going our separate ways UP HERE! 

I ate a sandwhich. I felt a tiny bit better. We kept on climbing. Five hours after we started the hike, we reached the top to see the pristine, emerald green lake. It was gorgeous, like something out of a nature documentary. We dipped our toes and splashed our faces and bodies.  The water was frigid. We refilled our water bottles and treated the water. I felt better hiking back down with water in my possession. It took us 2.5 hours to hike down. This was one of the nights we did not cook on our Coleman stove. We had burgers in town. The cheat was so worth it.