Times Speeds Up as We Slow Down

We left an hour later than planned, which was just about right. The kids were well fed as I locked the door to the house without that nagging feeling that I was forgetting something important. We needed to make one stop for gas, ice and propane. This turned into three stops....for gas, ice and propane; each place I stopped at had one but not the others. Finally we were on our way. The morning sun was shining gloriously bright and it gave me an energy that pushed me on in spite of my kids never failing desire to bicker in the car. If there is anyone out there with two or more kids that has discovered the key to preventing siblings from fighting in the car, I would love to know your secret!


The two hour drive to Packwood, a small town just south of Mt. Rainier in the Gifford Pinchot National Forest, was pleasant (after the initial war of words between my children). We drove through the logging town of Morton, into the tiny town of Randle where we stopped for a snack and potty break; our destination was just 20 minutes away but sometimes these things just cannot wait. \


After being jolted relentlessly by the potholes that marred the gravel forest roads, we arrived to our campsite to find a roaring fire, several tents and Mike and Tina's trailer already set up. Tina had yet to arrive with two of their girls, but Mike and their other five children, and my brother, sister-in-law and their two boys had been camping since the evening prior.


We pulled in, opened the van doors and like magic....my children disappeared! I wish I could say that my ten and eight-year-old spent some time helping me unpack and set up camp...but that wasn't the case, they literally disappeared into the woods with their cousins. This, in a way, was a bigger help to me than anything else. I was able to take my time setting up without running over one of them or beckoning to their every whim.


Once we had the tent up, and the kitchen area arranged to my liking....the kids were asking to eat. It was to be the first time I got to use our new Browning two burner range. It was, however, Friday and, as Catholics, we had to forgo meat. As easily, easier actually, than if I had been at home, I folded shredded Mexican blend cheese into a tortilla to make quesadillas and fried it over the griddle....times fifteen. It was a perfect lunch that was gobbled down by overly hungry campers. Then I got to do what I had been longing to do for a long time.....I sat.


I sat around the fire, closed my eyes, and relaxed. Then I became more active...I read a little, and observed the activity of those around me. The forest around us watched the kids, as well as the bugs that entertained them and the six inch deep creek nearby that they wanted so desperately to play in, but found the glacial water to be too painfully numbing.


For supper we enjoyed foil packets of shrimp, salmon, calamari, and scallops cooked with fresh zucchini over the fire. I've said it before....I generally eat better when living in the woods than at my own home! That evening, all the kids entertained us with skits, poems, jokes and songs that they had practiced at home or put together in a matter of minutes. My favorite skit was put on by the boys and went as follows:

Donovan to Samuel: "That's a nice shirt, where'd you get it?"
Samuel: "J.C. Penny"
Donovan to Thomas: "Those are nice shoes, where'd you get em?"
Thomas: "J.C. Penny"
Donovan to Hunter: "Those are nice pants, where'd you get em?"
Hunter: "J.C. Penny"
Donovan to Ben (who comes out from behind a tree wearing nothing but his boxers); "Who are you?!!"
Ben: "J.C. PENNY!!"

Yeah, that had us laughing. The sky was still clear as the fire blazed hot. Voices faded as we got lost in our own thoughts...everyone waiting for the first person to claim they were going to bed, so they wouldn't have to be first. We have a big two room tent that could easily fit the six of us,  but Hunter and Ben were excited to stay the night with their big cousin, Donovan....that was until Aunt Tina scared Ben with a scary story about a ghostly voice searching for her golden arm, then he decided he would stay near me. With the girls sound asleep, the boys and I wearily wandered off to the tent. We fell quickly asleep.


Saturday morning we cooked omelets in a Zip-Loc bag submerged in boiling water. A table was set up with cooked bacon pieces, diced ham, sausage crumbles, mushroom, chopped bell peppers, onions, chives, parsley, cilantro, spices and eggs. Each person dictated what they wanted in theirs, squished it around in a baggie with their name on it, and gave to the person manning the pot of boiling water. No dishes, easy clean-up!


We were to be joined that day by my Uncle Tony and Aunt Kim. Tina volunteered to stay at camp with the youngest kids, so from Benjamin on up, the rest of us left to hike to Lake Packwood. It was four-and-a-half miles one way. The trail led us through a moss-covered forest with peek-a-boo views of snow covered mountains. Water leaked here and there from the rocky walls allowing us to cool off every now and then with a cold "shower". The older kids left us in the dust saying they wanted to catch up to Uncle Tony and his party, so seven year olds, Benjamin and Keira, were accompanied by my brother-in-law, Mike, and I.


The trail was cut out of a relatively steep forested mountainside. To the right the mountain was an acute 45 degrees up, and to the left was the opposite angle plunging steeply downhill. Everywhere we hiked we could here the sound of distant rushing water, whether it was an up-and-coming waterfall, or the river down below. The woods were bedecked with pink trillium and white daisies. Giant fallen Douglas fir hinted to us that the forest isn't always as peaceful as it was that day. The temperature was warmer than we had expected, and dressed for cooler weather, we always welcomed the gentle but inconsistent breeze that surprised us when we'd least expected it.


I might add here that Benjamin did not stop talking the entire four and a half miles to the lake. I tried to get him to listen to the sounds of nature that one can only hear when one is silent....but he preferred the sound of his own voice. At some point he found a thin tree branch that curved around like a fishing pole while reeling in the catch of the day....he named it Stringy. Stringy the stick, became his best friend that day. He talked to it....it talked back. For awhile, I wondered if he even remembered I was there. I do believe, however, that it was Stringy's companionship...that got him through the nine miles we hiked that day. After all, since his legs are half the length of mine, I decided him walking nine miles was the equivalent to me walking eighteen miles. What a champ!!


Lake Packwood was a hidden gem! As we approached, the emerald green of its waters showed through the evergreens that still blocked our view. While at the edge of the lake, wonder at God's creation filled me with awe. The large lake was nestled amidst the trees and its clear waters sparkled in the sun. A small island beckoned from the middle of the lake but was only accessible by the birds who were lucky to claim it as home. Large fallen trees became part of the landscape at the edge of the lake and we walked out on them to soak our tired feet in the icy water. It was silent. Still. Beautiful.


After we'd eaten the lunches we'd packed, and rested sufficiently, it was decided to take the forest road that was supposedly shorter and flatter, but still returned to the same location we started. The flatter aspect was questionable right from the start as we were panting out of breath within the first 100 yards from the continuous steepness of the rocky road. But, after awhile, it did straighten out. Then the 'shorter' aspect was questioned as we seemed to be walking forever. Uncle Tony, Ben and I fell behind the pack on account of Ben's short legs. His voice eventually trailed off and his once non-stop
chattering gave way to worried silence. He still carried Stringy, but neither of them were talking now. The views we encountered were well worth the long hike. Glimpses of the mountain in the background were accompanied by the feathery look of endless evergreens stretching for miles and miles below us. Among the trees snaked the curving Cowlitz River.


The only words Ben spoke were, "Stringy is tired, he wants to sit down." I urged him on by telling him to imagine that he'd just walked across the country like Peter Jenkins and all he had left to reach his destination were these last two miles. I told him to imagine that the rest of the group were waiting there to cheer him to the end. I think this imagery might have helped me more than it did him.


We made it though, and the group was waiting to cheer Ben on. It was a great moment. I told him he walked farther than I ever had at his age and his face lit up with confidence.


The rest of the evening we relaxed. I made a pot of jambalaya and Tina cooked hobo stew in tin foil over the fire. She also made candy bar cake in honor of Father's Day. A wave of sadness rushed over me seeing the kids wishing their uncles Happy Father's Day instead of their own dad. With resignation he let me take them camping because he knew it wasn't intentional, me having them on Father's Day. But the fact that life for my children isn't ideal made me retire that evening with a heavy heart.


Before we knew it, we were packing up to head home, then we were home. How can it be that when we participate in an activity such as camping, when we are living simply, slowing down to enjoy the people we love in the places we love, that the time seems to speed up? The weekend flew by, and now we are back to the routine that is our life.


I was asked the other day when describing how much fun the kids had while camping, "And what do you get out of all this?" I get to pause. I get to sit. I get to be in surroundings that take my breath away. I was amazed when my sister and I were sitting around the fire and my nephew came up and out of boredom asked, "Aren't we going to do something?" Our response, "We are doing something!" That's what I love about camping, we get to be doing something, while doing nothing....no excuses necessary.


Happy Days to all,


love,




Gina.



top left: Rosie and Cece putting on their own 'skit'. Top Right and down: Cousins, Keira, Rosie and Cecelia at camp, The boys putting on a skit for the parents, Everyone bows and curtsies, Isabelle and Cecelia at bedtime. Bottom Left: Cecelia at camp, Bottom middle: Isabelle singing a song for entertainment.




Top Left: Ben and Stringy; Top Right and Down: Refreshing myself under mountain spring water, Ben cooling off, Ben and I (and Stringy) at Packwood Lake; Bottom Left: Ben and I on way back from the lake, Bottom Middle: Ben and Uncle Tony (and Stringy)




View of the Cowlitz River from the Packwood Lake trail.