Completely on board, Handy Man began emailing me extravagant listings for fancy campers equipped with microwave ovens and satellite TV. Toy haulers, electric awnings, full sized bath tubs... Hang on Mr! That's not "camping" that's "glam-ping" and it's a far cry from the first experience I want our little ones to have. I am a firm believer that every kids needs to experience sleeping in a tent while covered in dirt, mosquito bites and the smell of a campfire at least once in their little life.
I dug out my credit card and bought a brand new family tent, a camp table and a couple of kid camp chairs. Surprisingly, a few other strange items were also delivered over the next two weeks beyond my purchases - new coffee percolator, new camp stove, new lanterns, new bed rolls, new maps. Funny, I am pretty sure we could have done without a few of those items on our maiden excursion. (Convenient that our little family trip was the perfect excuse to upgrade Handy Man's hunting supplies.) Handy Man did buy me a very fancy, new sleeping bag with all of his purchases. I suppose he was forgiven this time.
Within a week, our new spare bedroom was buckling with camping supplies. I chuckled and told Handy Man that when you look at camping, it's really just an excuse to spend a ton of money on supplies to allow you to live like a homeless person for a few days.
We combined our family camp trip with Ryan's scouting trip for this fall's hunting season - shocking. Out the door by 5 am, we spent the day driving down to the Alamosa area. We wondered about the San Juan Mountains and crossed over the Rio Grande a few times. It's crazy to think that the head waters for the river that separates the US and Mexico starts not far from our very own back yard.
Mid-day, we made it to the top of a forest road and decided to stop for a picnic.
We took in a little game of Frisbee to stretch our legs and breath in the mountain air.
After lunch we headed over by Wolf Creek Pass - or what was left of the area after the West Fork Fire last year. I don't think I have ever seen the aftermath of a fire up close and in person before. I can't imagine what this same area looked like just weeks after, when every inch of the earth was black and charred.
A year later as we drove over the forest roads, every tree, as far as the eye could see, was black and burnt.
Shiny, ebony embers left behind.
Endless, tall, black needles reaching for the sky.
At least this year, the forest floor was breathing new life as lush grass and wild flowers filled in the scorched earth.
If you caught your self watching what was left of the trees and the forest, a dreary gloom crept in the back of your mind. I had to keep reminding myself to look down and the wonderful example of Mother Nature's power of rebirth.
Quiet in thoughts, Handy Man brought the car to a sudden stop and motioned everyone out of the car. He trudged over fallen trees in order to show our Brown Eyed Girl the most perfect Columbine I have ever seen in person. Just a single flower amid a green back drop. Trading Handy Man for Mountain Man, he gave the kids their first botany lesson on Columbines and explained how they were the State Flower and we should never pick them.
With a keen eye, my Brown Eyed Girl turned and immediately spotted more Columbine flowers. She shouted for joy as she ran off in the direction of a very large cluster. She was very proud of her self and her find.
In the excitement, this mother noticed a suspicious looking type of plant that my Brown Eyed Girl had just sprinted though recklessly... in flip flops. Rhymes of "Leaves of Three; Let it Be!!" chimed in my mind. Oh dear wouldn't that make for super awesome first camping trip?!?
Delicately choosing an alternative path back to the car, I began Googleing images for poison everything: poison oak, poison ivy, poison sumac. With one bar of patchy service I concluded We were most likely safe and tossed fate to the wind.
We made our way along the forest passes and eventually spotted the perfect little spot to camp. Surrounded by the burn scar, we found a little patch of unburnt trees that sided along a small meadow and stream.
We set up our outdoor kitchen.
Pitched the new tent.
Once camp was up an running, we went off on an adventure hike.
After our hike and exploring, we all worked up an appetite. We feasted on hot dogs and chips by the camp fire. The kids played with Mr Blue Eyes' cars while Mountain Man and I sat back, sipping an adult beverage and enjoyed the sounds of nature... except there really wasn't a lot of nature sounds around. Our kids completely lack the capability to be quite and one with nature. This is exactly the reason why we chose a spot away from the typical camp grounds.
After dinner and relaxing as the sun was setting, we enjoyed some Smores.
Bellies full, we wound down for the night. Snug in our jammies and sleeping bags, we listened to the forest noises around us and drifted off to sleep.
I got very little sleep...
I slept between the kids in an effort to be able to assist them should they need something in the middle of the night: a drink of water, help with a midnight potty break in the woods...
Mountain Man seemed to have fallen asleep in a matter of seconds, which is very unlike him. His lifeless, sleeping bag cocoon of a body did not move the entire night. I know this because I did not sleep.
I struggled to settle my thoughts between two little cherubs sawing little logs as night fell. I spent the first few hours drifting in and out of sleep. I was repeatedly interrupted by quiet little snores and moans as one or the other child lost their blanket in their sleep or wiggled up out of the comfort of their warm sleeping bag and began whimpering in the chill of the night air. I would have to break open my snugly warm pocket of air that I had created in my own sleeping bag in order to grope around in the dark for a limb that was strewn out in the open and cram their limp bodies back into their sleeping bags.
After three or four times being shoved back into his sleeping bag, Mr Blue Eyes got the picture and I never saw the top of his head pop out of his sleeping bag again. My Brown Eyed Girl on the other hand...
I think it is safe to say that she is the worst sleeping camper ever. Unable to regulate her internal thermostat coupled with her inability to just lie still, she floundered out of her sleeping bag and off her sleep mat the entire night. I often had to drag her unconscious body two feet back to the location of her sleeping bag. I honestly envisioned five-year-old sized swaddle wraps for our next camping trip. I promise I am not exaggerating when I estimate that I rescued her freezing little body at least 30 times.
And of course, she was the first one up, bright eyed and bushy tailed, as the sun rose to great the day. Smiling like she had just had the best night of sleep her five short years had ever had.
I on the other hand was exhausted.
A brisk 34' outside, we changed into new clothes while Mountain Man got the fire started. This momma made bacon and eggs for her family (with a side of PopTart for the kids). The kids explored the meadow while we packed up our campsite. Dirty and smelly, we headed back to civilization.
Since Mountain Man got all of his scouting done the day before. We peeled off the highway for an impromptu trip to the Great Sand Dunes. We enjoyed lunch in the park and then took the kids over to play in the Medano Creek at the base of the dunes.
Mountain Man guarded our shoes.
We didn't really have the proper footwear to climb the dunes. The sand got pretty hot as you left the moist beach close to the creek. The kids didn't know any different and were happy just to feel the sand in their toes and run though the water.
The weather was perfect and the backdrop gorgeous.
Some day when they are older, I think we will come back and really hike the dunes and spend a while day playing in the sand and the water.
Camping and Sand Dunes - That's a wrap!
