Although three year-old Ben's language still lags far behind his peers, he has been making big strides in the past several months. Occasionally, he catches us off guard with a word we didn't know he knew, or a phrase we've never heard before. It usually has one of two results: excitement or laughter.
Last night was another example (of the laughter variety). We all went out to do a little shopping for things for the new part of the house, and we were going to grab a few sandwiches at Chick-Fil-A (none of us have ever eaten there before). As we drove into the parking lot, we could see the restaurant was very crowded, had a play area, and looked like an environment that would tax Benny's behaviour. Since we weren't going to be out much longer, we decided, instead, to just pick up a pizza on the way home. Everyone understood the decision, except Benny, whose belly was telling him it needed food and drink.
The conversation went something like this:
Ben: "Noach!" (his word for "milk")
Jen: "I don't have any, we'll get you some when we get home."
Ben: "Juice!"
Jen: "I don't have any of that either... we'll be home soon."
Ben: "Grrrrrrr!"
Ben: "Fwies!" (fries)
Jen: "We're going to have some pizza when we get home."
For my age, I consider myself in fairly decent physical shape, and I think my lifestyle affords me a fair amount of exercise. Walking is my exercise of choice. I often take evening walks (in all four seasons) to burn off some stress and clear my head, and I also sneak in some short walks on my breaks at work. Some of my favorite activities, hiking and geocaching, also involve getting outside and moving. I've never had a gym membership, and I'm not involved in any formal exercise regimen, per se, but I figure I'm doing pretty good just by staying on the move.
However, most of this activity involves cardio and lower body. I consider myself to have pretty decent leg strength, but I have always been disappointed with my upper body strength. I have always been a little self-conscious of my stick arms, making me feel like a girlie-man (to be read with the appropriate Austrian accent, of course)!
At risk of sounding conceited, between Jen and I, I always viewed myself the more physically fit of the two... until recently, that is! With Jen's recent discovery of Zumba, her fitness level has undergone a pretty extreme makeover, leaving me sometimes feeling middle-aged, spongy, and balding. I'm okay with the balding, I can't do anything about the age... but I can follow her inspiration and work on a little more fitness. (No, I don't think my body is made to Zumba!)
With that in mind, one of my favorite radio stations recently caught my attention with their "website of the day", when they featured the site titled, "one hundred pushups". Intrigued, I visited the site and it is just what it sounds like... an online fitness program to build you to 100 consecutive pushups. I liked the site design. It is pretty simple, and it isn't written for some muscle-bound jock-type, but the average girlie-man (or woman), like me. It offers various training levels for age and abilities, and it is designed around a six week (three days per week) schedule (although some training levels may require longer than six weeks). It discusses variations on the traditional pushup for those who may have physical limitations, and it assesses your starting level with an "exhaustion test", which is simply, "how many consecutive pushups can you currently do?" Throughout the program, a retake of the exhaustion test is built in, to make sure you are continuing to train at the appropriate level.
Now, I don't know about you, but I can't drop and do 100! And, frankly, (no offense) I don't think I really know many people who could. But, it would be kinda cool...
So, I decided to take the 100 challenge! Why not? Pushups are a natural exercise, you can do them anywhere, they're free, and they target my girlie-man lack of upper body strength.
I'm in my second week. I figured if I went public with my pushups, it's harder to quit, right? I won't tell you where my starting level was... but it was a long way from 100! I think it may take me a little longer than six weeks, but that's okay... I've already increased my number, and I'm only investing a few minutes, three days per week.
So, how about you, blog reader... can you drop and do 100? Wouldn't you like to? Any takers on the 100 pushup challenge? Let me know in the comment section if you decide to take the challenge! I'll let you know when I complete my 100!
By the way, there is also a site for two hundred situps. Hmmm... after I reach the 100 pushups, maybe I should work on some ab flab...
I am introverted. I am shy. I am socially awkward. I struggle to meet new people and make new friends. I am not alone.
Well, speaking of "alone", folks like me often struggle with loneliness, but even introverts don't like to be lonely.
Over the years, I have tended to have a fairly small number of friends. I'm good with that. A few close friends to hang out with, or to share my thoughts with is really all I need.
Friendships come in varying degrees and forms, and they change as we move throughout different stages of life. I have had both long-term and shorter-term friendships, and a number of friendships have morphed from acquaintance to friendship, or vice versa. In other words, I still "keep up" (mostly via Facebook) with many friends who were considered somewhat close in years past, but time and life have caused us to grow distant. They are still considered my friends, but I don't go much beyond surface and smalltalk conversations, even if they were once more (for lack of a better word) "intimate" friends.
Actually, I'm a guy who isn't afraid to use the word intimate in the context of friendship. Dictionary.com defines it simply as "associated in close personal relations". Even the manliest of men desire a few intimate friendships... yes, with other men.
I have been blessed with what I consider to be some very good friendships over the years. The intent of this post is not to chronicle every friendship I have ever had, but rather to highlight various "routes to friendship" I have experienced throughout my lifetime ("friend" being defined as non-family/spouse, for sake of this post). You (if you consider yourself my friend) may, or may not, recognize yourself in this post. (If you do not, it is not because your friendship isn't, or wasn't, important to me... the post just isn't intended to be exhaustive!)
For starters, I should pay tribute to my most enduring friendship. I have had one very close friend since kindergarten! Our last names are one letter apart in the alphabet, so we were seated near each other during our kindergarten year (with just one girl between us, on which I STILL maintain that he had a kindergarten crush, but he has always vehemently denied this!) What began in kindergarten, developed into my closest friendship throughout all thirteen years of school. Although time and life have separated us considerably since then, he is still considered one of my very best friends. He is the kind of friend that I can go for long periods of time without talking to, but pick right back up where we left off at any given time... the kind of friend who could call me day or night, out of the blue, if he needed my help, and I would help him in any way I could... the kind of friend who I'm certain feels the same. Friends like this are rare, and should be considered a treasure. I value this friendship, and at this point I think it is safe to assume we will be lifetime friends... although, I really should make more effort to keep in contact (he lives a whole 10-ish miles from me!)
Similarly, I had a few close friends in college (one from my Audiology courses and the others from my involvement with the Baptist Student Union), many of whom I still maintain some level of contact, mostly through Facebook. My closest college friend, who was very instrumental in my first date with Jen (but that's a long story), is still a close friend, and our families often do things together. It's hard to believe (time is going by quickly), but this friendship has endured one side or the other of twenty years!
I have had a few co-worker friendships over the years. Although I have worked with some really great people, and I still maintain contact with some of them, only a few have developed into what I would consider "close" friendships. Of these, one co-worker friendship is a little unusual, and stands out. I once went to work for a friend in his small company (mostly him and me, occasionally a third employee). We both approached it fairly carefully at the start, because such an arrangement can either strengthen or ruin a friendship. I worked with him for seven years (and likely would be still, if the economy hadn't drastically affected his business). What developed out of that "risk" on both of our parts was a much stronger friendship and a very high level of respect for this person. This individual holds family in high regard and was very generous in allowing me to flex my work schedule to spend quality time with my family. He never viewed his employees as "expendable", and I saw him wrestle with the decision any time he had to let an employee go... especially when my turn came! He was so committed to my family and I, that when the economy began to cause his business (and his industry, as a whole), to shrink severely, he made personal sacrifices in an effort to keep me employed as long as possible... long enough to complete Lily's adoption and Ben's birth (just two months apart). How rare is it to work for an employer who is that kind of friend?
It is no secret that the period of time since then (for various reasons), has been (and continues to be) one of the most difficult times of my life, to date. I am facing many struggles that are very personal to me, and it is at times like these that a man really values a friendship that he considers "intimate". I have recently been blessed with three "newer" friendships, from various sources, with which I have felt a level of sincerity and comfort to confide areas of vulnerability:
One is with a man I greatly admire from a church that we have attended. He and I have had numerous long conversations, about various topics, over McDonald's breakfasts and during many early morning KraftMaid cabinet outlet shopping runs. He and his family have been a valuable source of encouragement to me and my family.
The second is a recent co-worker, who sold cars from the cubicle next to mine. A few years earlier, while shopping for my minivan, he was the salesman I talked to at this dealership. He was one of the few automotive salespersons that I liked at the time, but I did not end up buying from his dealership (which he has not let me forget). Recently, when I went to work for this dealership for a year and a half between jobs, I was ironically assigned a cubicle next to his, and spent several hours of "slow time" in deep conversations about various topics. We discovered that we think a lot alike and have quite a bit in common, and fairly quickly developed a close friendship. He and I have both since switched jobs, but I valued his friendship during that time. While I still consider him a close friend, I miss being able to talk with him, as we did then.
The third is a somewhat non-traditional friendship, but is very much a sign of the times. It is actually what sparked this post. I am constantly in awe of what the internet has done for our lives. Granted, there are many negatives associated with the internet, but I still find so much of the capabilities of the internet absolutely mind-blowing. This friendship, an "internet relationship", is case in point.
For just over three years I have been blogging, with minimal publicity and no access to search engines (by design). My "audience" is mostly family, friends, and those of the adoption community that read my China travel blog and have carried over to this one... I assume, anyway. Actually, I have no idea who is really reading what I write, as evidenced by occasional "hits" from nearly all 50 states and a few foreign countries.
A few years back, another "Dad blogger" (who lives several states away, has a family about the size of mine, and enjoys the outdoors), stumbled onto my blog, read a few posts and left a comment (which, as another blogger friend at Raising Tomatoes recently stated, "comments are like crack for a blogger, even when you don't know who is leaving them"). She's right... a comment from a stranger... I must link to his blog to see who he is! I read a few posts and probably left a comment. Several weeks or months went by, he shows up again. Oh yeah, I remember him... let me visit his blog again. This continued for a while, and increased in frequency, until we became "regulars" at each other's blogs. I really enjoyed reading what he wrote, and he seemed to feel the same about my writing.
Then one day, after much deliberation (it felt awkward, but then... I am socially awkward), I went to my Facebook page, searched for him, found him, sent a friend request... and waited. So, it's cool to read his blog, but would he think requesting his friendship on Facebook is strange... would I look like some sort of man-stalker... am I overstepping some social media boundary... how would I respond if the shoe were on the other foot and he sent me a request? No worries... he quickly accepted my request and indicated that he was glad I found him. We began to regularly send each other blogger crack comments, and interact fairly extensively via Facebook. Through "social media", we learned that we shared many commonalities, including that we both considered ourselves somewhat introverted and socially anxious. Being fellow-bloggers, we both have found the internet to be a very comfortable medium through which to interact, and, even though we have never met face-to-face and never talked outside of the internet, we have developed a very close "virtual" friendship that is every bit as real as any "traditional" friendship. Not having grown up with the internet, it sounds (even while I am writing this) a little weird, but it is actually fascinating (I think I called it "mind-blowing" earlier) how the internet, through tools like blogging, Facebook and email, can make it possible for two strangers, several states apart, to develop a deep (and I think I can say "intimate") friendship that is mutually valued.
Remarkable. I am old enough that this latest friendship would have seemed like some cosmic concept from a far-out science-fiction movie back when I was forming that first friendship in my kindergarten class!
I guess the point of this post is twofold. Firstly, no two "routes to friendship" are identical, and you never know where (or how) you might make a good friend. And, secondly, I'm thankful for a few good friends, both now and over the years.
There is a sidebar story to last weekend's events of moving into the new kitchen that I don't want to get lost in the busyness of life.
Benny's language and vocabulary skills seem to be growing almost daily, which thrills us! But, he is still obviously way behind a typical three year-old. It is still often hard for us to understand a lot of what he tries to communicate, and it is often hard to understand what he understands. It can be frustrating... for both him and us!
He is, however, very social. He'll talk to you whether or not you understand, and he'll laugh at himself, even if nobody quite knows what is funny. He's a real character.
Occasionally, though, he communicates something pretty profound in a way you would never expect. Just such a thing happened this past weekend.
Benny couldn't really tell us what he understood about the whole concept of waiting seven years to move into a part of the house that we had never before occupied. He couldn't tell us what he understood about the feeling of finally having a fully functional kitchen, and a dining area and table big enough to accommodate six people. He couldn't tell us what he understood about how much we all hated the cramped, dingy, drafty "temporary" kitchen we were moving out of.
But, he new something exciting was going on. He knew the family was excited. He knew he was excited about the open space to expand his toys into and explore. He knew he was excited to finally have a place at the table with the family. His expressions and his actions told us he was excited! However, he wanted to tell us with words, just so there was no mistake that he was excited.
Pretty hard for a kid who knows what he wants to communicate, but doesn't have the words. And, even though Benny experienced the feelings, he just didn't exactly have those words.
As Jen was getting him ready for bed last Saturday night (the night we opened the wall and ate our first meal in the new kitchen), he pointed down (his bedroom is over top of the new area) and repeatedly and excitedly said, "down... happy birthday!" It took us a little while to figure it out, but he was telling us that in the limited vocabulary he has, the only words he could find to match the excitement of the evening was a good, heartfelt "happy birthday!" The interpretation: "down[stairs] [is exciting like a] happy birthday!"
Since then, he has randomly, and on numerous occasions, walked into the kitchen and exclaimed, "happy birthday!" with a big smile on his face. Yes, Benny Jay, it is exciting like a happy birthday!
For just over seven years, the remodeling of my kitchen (simultaneously with just over half the total square footage of my home) has been the bane of my existence. And, while it is still sans trim, window coverings and pantry doors, it finally reached the point of occupation this past weekend!
When I purchased the house, I envisioned the kitchen we just moved into. Everyone else saw this:
Standing in the original dining room, looking through the cased opening into the original kitchen, complete with red carpet and red countertop with chrome edges! There was no other cabinetry in the kitchen than what you see here.
Standing in the original kitchen, looking through the cased opening into the original dining room, toward the bay window bench.
Standing in the original dining room, looking toward the rear family room.
For the past seven years, Jen used a "temporary" kitchen (the second substandard kitchen in the home, since the house had been turned into a duplex), while I completely gutted this area, took down the wall between the kitchen/dining, moved the kitchen window and entry door, moved the doorway to the family room, removed a masonry chimney from roof to basement (through the dining room), and contracted 100% new plumbing, wiring, and HVAC duct installation. (And, that's just the kitchen... I had a bathroom, living room, foyer, stairway, hallway, and 2 bedrooms undergoing similar treatment.)
Throughout the years of work, I envisioned the kitchen we just moved into, everyone else saw this:
Standing in the dining area, looking through where the dividing wall used to be, into the kitchen.
Standing in the kitchen, looking through where the dividing wall used to be, into the dining area.
So, if I had it to do over again, would I do this? Ummm... NO!
But, that doesn't change the fact that I am pretty happy with the way it turned out proud of it!
Yeah, in hindsight, it's easy to see it was a mistake, but there's no need to dwell on the negative at this point (I can't change the past, after all). I'm preferring, instead, to dwell on the fact that I created something nice for my family, and we now have a kitchen to be proud of. As a draftsman, I liked it on paper, but I like it much more in living color.
Saturday evening was a momentous occasion, as I cut the drywall out of the doorway separating the rear part of the home (where we have lived since we purchased it) and the front portion (where we have never lived), and we ate our first meal (pizza) in the new kitchen at our new table (our old one seated four, we are six)!
Sunday afternoon, I moved the stove and refrigerator from the other kitchen, and declared it officially open for business. So, I now see the reality of what I always envisioned. Everyone else finally sees this:
Dining area into kitchen
Kitchen into dining area
Foyer into kitchen
The opening to the family room beyond the bar (moved from its original location), where the opening was cut to join the back half of the house with the front.
The new bay window bench
Family room into the kitchen (the unfinished closet openings beside the fridge will both have doors... a pantry on the left and a small coat/broom/sweeper closet on the right.)
While I can't stop here (I still have a lot of details to finish up), It's a huge load off my shoulders to have the space to a usable point! It feels really good! Yeah, it took too long... but, did I mention that I'm proud of it, anyway?
Tomorrow is my fourteenth wedding anniversary. This year I'm giving my wife a new kitchen.
Before you give me too much credit, understand that she has been asked to put up with quite a lot to get that kitchen. You see, my wife marked our seventh, eighth, ninth, tenth, eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth anniversaries in a very uninspiring and substandard "temporary" kitchen, while I remodeled the real kitchen (along with over half the total square footage of our home).
When I purchased this home, I had a dream of creating a nice home for my family, "with my bare hands". It was a nice dream that soon turned into a nightmare, because I grossly underestimated the scope of the project and the time investment. In my defense, I ended up doing a lot more than I originally intended, but I was still way off in my estimates. My bride has endured much because of this decision, and I wish I could reverse the decision I made several years ago. Too late, now!
Recently, my project required me to remove the heat duct from her "temporary" kitchen to re-route it into the new kitchen. I did this in the spring, with the promise that, while it may be short some trim, she would be cooking in her new kitchen by "heating season", which I unofficially deemed November 1st.
Of course, she doubted my promise... after that many years, it felt as though she would never get a real kitchen!
But, although I am eight days overdue (well, I'm a lot more than eight days overdue, but eight days on my most recent promise), I took tomorrow off work for our anniversary, and I plan to spend most of the day cleaning my tools and the last of my dust out and "giving her the keys" to a new kitchen! I think moving day will officially be Saturday for the major appliances, but she is starting to trickle some kitchen items over to the other side. Sunday dinner will likely be the first official use of a space in our home that has been unoccupied since we moved here in 2004!
Yes, it's about time. No, I shouldn't have asked that much of her. I'm disappointed with myself for the hardship this project has caused my family. But, it feels good to finally follow through with a dream. I've learned a lot the hard way, and when I set the "heating season" goal, the kitchen was still an empty room with unpainted walls and no cabinets, but I had enough experience to be confident that it was realistic. And, I'm a day away from delivering on that promise and getting Jen in a much deserved kitchen!
Sorry, Jen. Thanks for enduring. Enjoy the kitchen. Happy Anniversary!
Strap 20... or 30... or more pounds to your back. Hike several miles through the woods. Hang your food in a tree. Sleep on a thin piece of foam. Repeat.
Backpacking. Yeah, I do that.
It's definitely not for everybody. Many wouldn't even consider trying it. And, if I'm honest, when I've packed my food too heavy, and I'm powering up a hill, and my back is wet with perspiration, with a blister forming on my heel... or, when the nighttime temps drop low enough that I'm chilly in my sleeping bag, and my back is sore if I don't change positions every few hours, and I'm continually wakened by night critters stirring about; it's times like these I wonder why I willingly choose to participate in such an activity.
But, the flip side is the satisfaction of walking into camp, dropping your pack, and knowing you did something others wouldn't attempt, or the rare experience of waking up in the forest, with the forest, as the first rays of sun stream through a woodland mist and break into the open end of your lean-to shelter.
You may not "get it"... but I enjoy it enough to strap 20... or 30... or more pounds on my back... well, you get the picture.
I have been waiting for the right time to introduce my two oldest boys to backpacking. They needed to be old enough to carry all their own stuff, and old enough to appreciate the tired-end-of-day feeling of a job well done.
I felt this was the year. I debated whom to take. At age 11, I definitely felt Dylan was ready. But, At age 9, I wasn't sure about Zachary. Zachary has eczema and asthma, and I knew it would be more difficult for him than it would be for Dylan. Yet, they are so close in age (23 months) that they often experience things together. I discussed it with Zachary and let him know that it would be difficult, and that I expected him to complete the trip, carrying his gear, without excessive whining. He wanted to go... I agreed.
I chose Raccoon Creek State Park for several reasons:
It's one of the closest developed backpacking trails to our home.
The terrain is hilly, but with relatively mild elevation changes.
The trail system is a series of interconnected loops and it is possible to adjust your daily mileage by switching to a different loop.
By "developed", I mean that Raccoon Creek has two designated backpacking camp areas within the park's trail system. Each camp area (Sioux and Pioneer) has five Adirondack-style lean-to sleeping shelters that can be rented, designated campfire rings, pit toilets, and a water pump... primitive for camping, but posh for backpacking.
I got home from work last Friday about 6:30 PM, grabbed a quick shower and dinner, changed clothes, loaded the three packs in the car (mine weighing about 32 pounds, Dylan's about 20, and Zachary's about 19), and got on the road around 7:30... which, by the way, is dusk in northeast Ohio in October. It was about an hour and a half drive to the park, putting us there around 9:00 PM, which, by the way, is dark in Western Pennsylvania in October.
I parked the car at the park office, which is just over one mile from the Sioux camping area. Because there is a group scout camp area near the Sioux shelter area, we were able to avoid the trail in the dark, and hike our one mile mostly on the park roads. With the nearly full moon, we didn't need our flashlights until the last section, where we had to use the trail.
Friday night, Sioux shelter #1
Only one other shelter was occupied when we got into camp (more on that in a minute). We set up our beds, gathered some wood, built a small fire, ate a snack, hung our food, and got into bed a little before midnight. Even though Friday was a short night, the boys were excited about being on their first backpack trip, and they thought the shelter was really cool... "Dad, you should build one of these in our backyard so we can sleep outside any time we want." Their excitement didn't keep them awake, though; they were asleep almost the minute they zipped up their sleeping bags. Me, on the other hand...
Remember that other occupied shelter I mentioned? I'm pretty sure they weren't actual backpackers. I didn't go investigate, but it sounded more like a party in the woods. This theory was further supported when more friends arrived around 11:30 PM with a cooler and lawn chairs... I've never carried a cooler and a lawn chair when I backpacked. The fact that the road comes so close to this shelter area makes it conducive to such activities. I doubt that they were even registered campers, because the park does not encourage backpackers to park in the group camp area, which is where all their cars were parked. They partied until somewhere after 4 AM, which means I didn't get much sleep Friday night. They didn't physically bother us, but the noise disturbance was annoying. Since "they" were many and "we" were only one adult and two kids, I left them alone. However, at one point in the wee hours of the morning, I called the number for the park office (I carried my cell phone in case I needed it, but left it turned off the duration of the trip), which was, of course, closed. The recording directed me to 9-1-1, which I phoned and asked for a ranger to be dispatched to break up the party. Unfortunately, that never happened. I dozed off and on until about 4 AM, then slept until about 8AM, when the boys awoke. I didn't make any effort to be quiet, once we were awake!
Saturday morning, Sioux shelter #1
Raccoon Creek provides these poles to hang the food... easier than messing with a tree and a rope.
pop tarts for breakfast
ready to hit the trail... next stop, Pioneer shelter area
Saturday morning started with a pop-tart breakfast, followed by packing up our gear and hitting the trail about 9:30 AM. We hiked just over eight miles, and got into camp a little before 4:00 PM. It wasn't "Are we there yet?", but rather, "How many miles have we hiked, so far?" If I had a dollar for every time I heard that!
The weather was perfect the entire weekend, with daytime temps about 70 and nighttime temps in the 40's. Saturday was a beautiful day to be in the woods, with leaves starting to color and crunch underfoot, and a few small stream crossings along the way. Saturday's route also took us by Mineral Springs, which is a park highlight.
Dylan did very well with Saturday's mileage, and probably could have done a few more. Zachary struggled a little toward the end, but I expected that, and he maintained a great attitude. I was very proud of both of them!
When we started the weekend, I had given the boys a pep-talk about doing this as a group, rather than an individual event. I told them that we were going to encourage each other through any hardships, and if any of us struggled at any point, the others would stick with them and pull them through, not just hike out ahead and leave them in the dust. This is not to say that we didn't sometimes pull the hills at a different pace, but we had an agreement that if we pulled ahead on a hill, we'd wait at the top, and if we sensed the man behind us was struggling, we'd hang back to be an encourager. For the most part, the boys "got it" and we had a good bond going on the trail.
Toward the end of Saturday's hike, however, when we were getting tired and we had exhausted our water bottles, a brief "spat" broke out between Dylan and Zachary, when Dylan lost his patience with Zachary, who was really beginning to drag. (Not faulting him... he did great for his age!) I immediately stopped the boys and told them that we were a team, and that was unacceptable. I reaffirmed Zachary, and suggested that Dylan might owe him an apology. I left it at that, and we moved on down the trail... no apology. We were getting very close to camp, and I knew that we'd pass the water pump a short distance up the trail. I took Zachary's water bottle and told him I was going to hike ahead, and I'd come back and meet him with some cold water. I told Dylan to stay with his brother and encourage him into camp. As I was returning with the water, I rounded a corner to a sight that made me proud... both brothers, side-by-side in the trail, Zachary packless and Dylan carrying both their packs. I guess that would count as Dylan's apology in action!
Zachary shouldered his pack, and we hiked into camp together. The boys were beaming with pride and accomplishment when they dropped their packs after completing just over eight miles. We all pitched in to cook a meal of chicken and noodles, explored camp, built a fire, hung our food, played some flashlight games and went to bed about 9:00 PM. Our beds felt really good after a long day of hiking. We talked in bed a while, then drifted off to sleep. All five Pioneer area shelters were filled on Saturday night... with considerate backpackers, and we enjoyed a peaceful night's sleep!
Saturday rest break... one of many!
Dylan was begging me to let him try to hand-catch a minnow... anything to do with fishing!
the falls at Mineral Springs
Dad and Dylan
Dad and Zachary
lunchtime on the trail... beef jerky, cheese, and GORP
stream crossing
"How many miles have we walked, Dad?"
"We're almost there, boys!"
Zachary, sporting a doo-rag soaked in a stream to cool him off
Saturday evening, Pioneer shelter #4
8.2 miles today... great job, boys!
exploring camp
I was apprehended by the "Flashlight Bandits"!
the beds feel good after a long day on the trail
Sunday morning, we were talking and thinking about getting out of our cozy sleeping bags, when Dylan said, "Dad, look at the spider above your head!" I looked up and saw this guy about four feet above my head. For size reference, the black dot to the right of Mr. Spider is a nail!
Sunday morning breakfast... oatmeal and hot chocolate
breaking camp
Traverse Creek
The trail ends here! +/- 13 miles weekend total!
Our hike to the car on Sunday was about 3.5 miles. We completed this by about noon; then we changed into clean clothes and ate lunch at one of the picnic areas. From the state park, we were within a 50 mile drive of the Cabela's store, nearest to our home, in Wheeling, West Virginia. We had never been to Cabela's, so we pointed the car south and spent several hours browsing and wishing we could afford a big shopping spree.
the boy has never seen so many fishing rods in one place!
Fortunately, the only black bear we saw this weekend!
Mannequins, these days!
Couldn't bring myself to buy it, but I'd wear it if I had one!
West Virginia geocaching... my first interstate geocache... with Interstate 70 in the background
Zachary mistook this sprinkler head for a geocache. It was just a few feet from the actual cache, and as I was retrieving the cache, I looked down to see him attempting to uproot the shopping center sprinkler system. That was worth a good laugh! We logged five West Virginia geocaches in the vicinity of the Cabela's shopping area.
It was just over a two hour ride back home, which put us arriving about 8:00 PM, tired and ready for a shower. It was great weekend, with perfect weather. Both boys had a blast, and both agreed they'd love to go again... although Zachary requested a little shorter mileage next time! (Honestly, I estimated the trip less, and I was surprised at the actual mileage when I analyzed the tracking from my GPS unit... see below). No problem, Zachary, we can do that. To quote Dylan during the trip, "We needed this, Dad!" I agree... we did need this. Great job, guys... thanks for a great weekend!
