Holding up my end of the bargain we struck in the Great Compromise of 2007, Marty and I took the kids back to The Land.  We arrived on Friday afternoon and parked the camper in a cleared area and hooked up to the newly installed power.  Connecting to electricity means that we can commune with nature while microwaving snacks, listen to the iPod piped through to the outside speakers, and watch movies if we feel like it.  But because it was in a recently cleared area, the ground was a bit soft which meant that it was impassible for bikes and made walking through the camper a bit like a tilted fun-house floor.

We went for lots of four-wheeler rides, exploring the roads and woods.  That is, until the bear hunting opener started and we became acutely aware of shots fired not all that far away.  I mean, it was obvious to stay away from the areas where people were hunting, but what about the part where we were?  Just outside of where they were hunting.  You know, the place where a bear being hunted might run TO?

No bears here.

We went for walks on the logging roads and trails, searching for clues.  To Martin, this meant picking up every other rock, announcing that he'd found another clue and asking me to read it.  To me, this meant making up sentences using my inner Anne Shirley, telling him to walk to the "fiery tree at the end of the whispering lane" where he would find the next clue.


We kept our eyes to the ground searching for red rocks of all varieties, my very favorite to collect.  I have a talent for this, finding the tiniest ruby-colored rocks on any dirt road, and we spent a lot of time building our collection.


I played around with some settings on the camera to try to find a way to capture how cool the landscape appears as you whip by on a four-wheeler.  I wanted to show the way that the foreground moves faster than the background.  The way that the foreground becomes swooping lines and motion, while the background holds shape.  This is what happens when you hold your camera with one hand and hang onto the four-wheeler with the other, hoping that no one falls off while you're busy trying to be artistic.




It was hot, hot, hot this weekend and we were all sweaty and stinky.  Due to the nature of camping (meaning it's outside where there is a lot of dirt) and of staying in a camper (limited water supply, like where you turn on the shower to rinse, turn it off to soap up, then turn it back on to rinse off the soap, and then that's it!  the whole shower!) we decided to take the kids swimming.  We found a beachy area with soft sand and shallow waters where we could finally cool down.


I think I made it all the way to Sunday late afternoon before I felt like I'd had enough and wanted, just for a moment, to be somewhere cool and good smelling and completely alone.  Sensing that tears were on the way, Marty volunteered to take the kids for a ride so I could have a little time to myself to read.  It was heaven, if heaven means still being hot and sweaty but you do get to sit for a moment to rest and read.  They returned, half an hour later like this:


We woke them up, rinsed them off, and let them play while we made dinner.  It's fun to let kids play "camper" in a camper while camping, don't you think?


By Monday morning, we were ready to go.  We hustled through the packing to try to beat the rain that appeared to be on the way.  A few hours later, we were back at home, filled to the brim with dirty laundry but happy to be there.