Panic is a Real Thing

Working at my children's school has allowed me to be there for them in ways I never imagined I would have to. Today while I was teaching P.E., I noticed that one of my daughters did not seem like herself. She was doing really well at the game we were playing but never looked happy or enthusiastic. Afterward, at lunch, I asked what was wrong and she ignored me, so I chalked it up to adolescent angst. She finally came and found me in my classroom and emotionally vomited on me for being uncaring and mad at her. I am used to teens letting out their frustrations on me so I wasn't really phased. Pretty soon she was hyperventilating, crying and talking about feeling like she was 'outside of herself'. I tried to help her breathe slowly, but she just couldn't do it.

In the middle of it her teacher came in and told her she can't leave lunch without telling the person in charge where she is. This added to her anxiety.  Her teacher let her stay, however, and I continued to talk with her. She began to bring up all her insecurities that maybe had some basis in reality but were totally blown out of proportion.  Finally she asked if I could just hug her. Why didn't I just do this in the first place?!! (insert mom guilt) I hugged her tight. As I did so, I looked up on my phone what to do during a panic attack and found some great information from healthline.com. In a very calm voice I read 11 Ways to Stop a Panic Attack. They were all very doable and pretty soon my little girl was breathing slowly and and her muscles had relaxed in my arms.

Both of my girls have tried to explain to me certain symptoms of anxiety that they were experiencing in the past year. I never understood fully what it was, and neither did they. After today's experience and a recent brief conversation with a couple of my cousins, I realized it's time to talk to them about anxiety, panic attacks and what they can do to help themselves. I have never experienced this myself, however, in the past, I have experienced anxiety's melancholic little sister, depression.  I do know many in my family who have had anxiety and panic attacks and from what I understand, it does run in families so I shouldn't be surprised it would show up in some of my children. I have a lot to learn, but this I know, patience, love and understanding is what I can offer them now.

Have you ever experienced a full on panic attack? Do you know kids who have these issues? Any and all advice is appreciated!

A Day to Remember

It has been a really long time since I have written a post, but my heart is longing to write again after a period of too busyness lack of creative thought. Today I was contemplating how to talk to my young students about 9/11. It is part of our country's history now, so should I talk about it? We say, 'never forget', but at what age do children need to learn to "remember". I wanted to share with them the importance of the day without making them feel scared or insecure in the world they live in. All of this consideration has brought that day's events so clearly back to mind. Sometimes, on this day, I can feel the same pit in my stomach that I felt that day, and tears would flow so easily if I let them.

I had just gotten married four months prior to the day. I worked in the office at the WA State Dept. of Natural Resources and my husband worked for DNR in the field as a Wildland firefighter. The day was sunny, nice...especially nice, I thought. I got out of my car and started to walk into work, passing the mechanic I said, "Good morning!" in an especially bright tone, because it was going to be a great day...I could just feel it. "If you can call it that!" the mechanic replied. Thinking he was pretty grumpy for such a beautiful day, I responded, "Why do you say that?" "Haven't you heard? Our country is being attacked!" I was confused and alarmed at what he said but figured he was exaggerating about whatever he was talking about. I entered the building and the receptionist told me she didn't know exactly what was happening but a plane had just hit a building in New York and they were talking about it being intentional. She told me they set up a T.V. in the back. In shock, I hurried to the back just in time to see the second plane hit the second tower and a chilling gasp filled the room by all who witnessed it. We watched in horror for the next few minutes when they told us we should all go home and be with our families. My thoughts immediately went to my husband... I needed to know he was safe and let him know I was coming home. He had the day off and was already watching the news as the towers now burned side by side with the whole world watching. I remember the feeling in my hands as I drove home...they shook, they were cold even though it was a warm, late summer morning. I had a pit in my stomach as I feared the known and even more the unknown.

Once home, my husband and I were glued, as was much of the nation, to the news. Every channel showed the image of the two towers burning and chaos in the streets of New York City. It felt so far away and yet so close. Then, in a moment, the first tower crumbled, live, for the whole world to watch. Realization that our country was under attack was more apparent when the news showed the Pentagon on fire, then a lonely field in Pennsylvania. Fear set in....where next? What now?

Those memories are as fresh now as the moment they came to pass. When it came time to talk to my students about what today was, I knew the truth was way to scary for their innocent hearts to hear. I knew I had to share something about this day but not all that weighed heavily on my heart. I printed a page to color:

Then I oh so briefly described what happened, but our focus was on 911. I pointed out what the date was, 9/11/19,  and told them how and why to call 911. We talked about how many people on that day must have called 911 and how brave the police officers and firefighters who responded were.  We prayed for all first responders, those who died and those who even today put their lives on the line to save others.

I am grateful for the opportunity to impart gratitude in these young hearts toward our first responders. That is what they can take away from this day, until they are old enough to learn the sad details in full.

It is strange to me to think that to most students in school at this point, this occurred before they were born. To my own children, it is history. I try to remind them each year how united our country became after the events of this day. How nobody seemed a stranger, American flags flew from every car, every home, people talked to each other and we all seemed proud to be Americans.  We say 'Never Forget', but I think we already have. We've forgotten that we should be proud to be Americans. We've forgotten that we are here to help one another and build one another up. How far we've come! I pray that it doesn't take another tragedy before we become united once more. Let's honor this day and the memories of those who died tragically by being kind to one another, being proud and grateful to live in this great (even if faulty) country of ours, and by thanking those who risk their lives every day to save others.

https://youtu.be/EEogeIIOJzU

What I Have Learned from Multiple Days Stuck at Home

Nobody loves a lazy day at home with a cup of bulletproof coffee and a new Amazon Prime series more than I. Watching the snow turn my neighborhood into a winter wonderland added to the cozy feelings that made the first snow day so wonderful...

That was nine days ago, the first snow day of the season...

This past Friday's school day was cut short around the Puget Sound due to another oncoming winter storm. Unusual weather around these parts, the school districts, including St. Mary's (not part of a district), wanted all families to get home safely. It's Tuesday now, and I have yet to leave the house in 4.5 days. Yes I am getting cabin fever, yes... I'm even ready to be back to school. It hasn't just been this long weekend but last week as well was all kinds of weird...Monday- snow day. Tuesday - 2 hour delay, Wednesday - 2 hour delay and as mentioned Friday - 2 hour early release. I just saw the first snow plow drive down our street. Because this is such a rare occurrence, the city doesn't spend the money that other places do on winter preparedness, so while the main streets have been cleared, our street is a sheet of ice covered with a foot of snow, melted by rain overnight and turned to slush. My driveway, however, still has half a foot of snow and my van doesn't do well at all.

So, with all this time at home I want to share a few things I've learned that I didn't know before:

1. TLC has no show other than Say Yes to the Dress all. day. long. Does anyone even watch this show?!!! Who CARES what insanely expensive dress random strangers pick for their wedding? NO ONE CARES!!

2. For my teen boys, looking cool is now more important than being warm. I watched them walk away, 2 miles (one way) to the store, in jeans, hoodies, and their Vans shoes...no coats, no hats, no gloves. I warned them repeatedly that the snow was about to dump again but they said they were fine. Snow flakes the size of quarters started falling shortly after they left and by the time they arrived home, an hour and a half later, they were soaked and cold, but refused to admit they were idiots.

3. Snow brings people together. Even though we were physically housebound together, I watched my kids happily play together in the snow for hours. I played happily in the snow with them for hours. Neighbors we didn't know honked as they drove by and congratulated us on the "Great Job!" we did building our snow family. Groups of people walked down the road carrying sleds to the large hill a street over from ours. Our mail man stopped to talk. Another neighbor stopped by to make sure we were doing fine. Online, an incredible, "we are in this together" attitude took over and the polarizing political posts became minimal.  

4. We are incredibly lucky human beings. When our greatest problem is being stuck at home, how can I complain?!!!  We have a warm house, clean water, food, and all the other luxuries that we take for granted that make us the richest country in the world. Internet, phone, washer/dryer, TV, refrigerator....the list goes on and on of things to be grateful for. Anyone who lives an average, or even below average existence in America is filthy rich compared to a majority of the rest of the world. Privilege is a hot-button word in our society right now "Check your privilege" they say...well, I say, if you live here, you are privileged, be grateful for that. Oops, I didn't meant to get political...it just came out. 

In conclusion, while I look forward to getting my van out of the garage and being able to drive out of my driveway and get back to normal life, I appreciate a newfound gratitude for all I have and I ask everyone to "check their privilege," check it so you can appreciate it and be thankful for all you have.

When Christmas Isn't Merry

"Be still and know that I am God."

-Psalm 46:10 

Every even year since 2011 I have woken up on Christmas morning alone, the house quiet. No expected patter of excited young feet or smiles that brighten when they see a tree bedecked with gifts and stocking full of goodies. Some of the things that bring a mother's heart greatest joy have been stripped from me when my husband decided he wanted out of our marriage. I am no longer bitter but the sadness of being away from my kids on this most special day never goes away. Weeks ahead of Christmas, I psyche myself up (and try to help the kids as well) to the fact that our 'Christmas' will still exist, only on a different day. All of them, at one point or another, will ask (if not beg) to be able to be home for Christmas. "We can go to Dad's in the evening," they try to bargain. I do my best to be positive and encouraging, but inward I am thinking the same thing.

By the grace of God, I am able to be strong in front of them, but every year, no matter how strong I feel, the floodgates open as soon as I drop them off. And then they are only a word, a look of understanding, a question away from letting loose again. Today is Christmas Eve. I have been crying on and off all day. I have surrounded myself with people I love, family and friends, but in every quiet moment...tears fall.

I know Christmas is a season. It isn't about one day or stockings full of gifts, it isn't about what we get or even who we are with. It's about Christ. That is what gets me through. Today I had the honor to  vacuum our church to help prepare it for Midnight Mass. I imagined I was sweeping the stable, tidying up to prepare the lowly place for the newborn King.

Tonight I get to pick up my kids and bring them to Mass with me. I get to receive Our Lord in the Holy Eucharist with them by my side. This is Christmas to them, and to me. Tonight my heart will be full as I whisper "Merry Christmas" to my kids as the bell tolls for Mass to begin. Tonight for a few hours, joy will be full. I will focus on the now, and be happy.....

...and then I will drop them back off at their dad's in the middle of the night, and cry the whole way home.

In 2012 I wasn't able to have my kids even at Mass, these five candles were for them.

Sister Time in the Northwesternest Corner

"There is pleasure in the pathless woods, there is rapture in the lonely shore, there is society where none intrudes, by the deep sea, and music in its roar; I love not Man the less, but Nature more." - Lord Byron

 So many years ago, I can't even remember how long, the kids and I were camping with my sister, Tina and her family for Memorial Day weekend. It was a yearly event and as usual, Tina's birthday fell within the weekend so we gave her the usual camping birthday party. A dessert, the song, the hugs. She received from her husband that year, a backpack, a nice one, for adventures she longed to take. Little did she know the adventures that God already had planned for her. Little did she know that one of her daughters, having Type 1 diabetes would need her care nearly 24/7, little did she know the many hours she would spend in the hospital attending to her oldest daughter as she also suffered from a severe autoimmune disease, or how difficult it would be to get babysitters when 5 of her 8 children had special dietary needs. But through the years Tina put her dreams on hold without complaint and tended to the needs of her children. The backpack sat unused for many years.

With her oldest son about to turn 20 and her youngest going on 5. She felt her time had come. She found a moonless night in July on the calendar and said, "This is the weekend we are going." We scheduled it, and come hell or high water, we were going to do it. Well, we didn't have to deal with hell, but high water, yes. We planned a two night backpacking trip to Shi Shi Beach, near Neah Bay, WA, the most northwestern point of the lower 48 states. Upon checking the tides at the Ranger station we found out that we would be on the beach during the highest high tide of the year to that point. On the other hand, we would also experience one of the lowest low tides which would provide excellent tidal pool exploration.

We did a little planning over the phone about what to bring and looked into the permits we would have to obtain. It was all pretty simple: we needed an overnight pass for camping in the Olympic National Park and a recreation use permit from the Makah Tribe, which could be purchased at any store in Neah Bay.  Also, because we didn't have one, we needed to rent a bear canister from the Port Angeles Ranger Station, more to keep our food safe from raccoons and crows than bears (although there have been reported sightings).

My girls ended up staying at Tina's house with their Uncle Mike and cousins and the boys stayed at home by themselves. I bid the boys farewell and met Tina at her house Thursday morning with the girls. They were excited to stay with their cousins, their best friends. This made leaving for a few days easier for my peace of mind. Once packed in the truck we were on our way! We giggled to ourselves at the very thought of this trip finally happening! The drive was enjoyable and the conversation wonderful and the silences comfortable. To me, nothing compares to being in the company of my sisters, it is the best. We've been through everything together, we've shared childhood memories, joy and chaos. We experienced the different stages of motherhood together, rejoiced in each others good days and commiserated in the bad. We've shared the same friends, we've cried together in difficulties and laughed so hard together that we literally peed our pants. Yet, I'm sure even on that day, in the back of both of our minds, the ever present concerns of motherhood lurked in our minds like shadowy reminders of the responsibilities always awaiting us.

We got our permits taken care of and found the overcrowded parking lot. Because it was full, we had to find a private residence half a mile away that charged $10 a day to park on its lawn.  We would need to pay $30 but only had two $20 bills. We left them and a note asking for change to be left at the truck as there was no attendant on the lot. It was hopeful thinking, but we had no other choice. We heaved our heavy packs on our backs, took some pictures and headed down the shady road toward the Shi Shi Beach trailhead. Neither of us had prepared to carry 35 pounds backpacks. It was Tina's first time and my first time since training for Search and Rescue a year and a half ago of having such a heavy pack resting on our hips. As we walked, however, at least for me, my pack and I became one and our mantra was "one step in front of the other".

Tina at the trail's beginning

The boardwalk portion in the shade.

Just after the trailhead we dropped into a lush green forest. The remnants of enormous trees could be seen in form of stumps but the regrowth was great enough to provide shade for the forested two miles of our hike. It soon became a game of "try not to fall in the mud" as we entered the famously muddy parts of the trail. Just before our steep descent to the beach we approached a staircase which eventually spit us out onto the beach below. 

One of the many muddy stretches.

Violet resting on the beach.

 We were excited to begin the second stretch to our destination, "Point of Arches". The temperature increased quite a bit now, however, not being in the shady protection of the forest. We were also walking on sand, which made it seem like each step took a little more effort, but the scenery was breathtaking.

The sky was a cloudless blue and the waves contrasted, breaking on shore clean white and clear waters.  To the north and south were natural sculptures of rock jutting out into the surf. The beach barely hid the earth as low tide revealed it reaching toward the surface.

Rocky earth reveals itself on the beach at low tide

After about half a mile of hiking on the beach, we both felt the need for a lunch break and the desire to stand or sit pack free. A rocky nook near the tree line beckoned for our company and we found a cave like lunch spot to re-energize. After doing so, we loaded back up and walked toward the harder packed wet sand which was easier to walk on. A older man came walking over to us to show us a picture he had taken of us (first picture on this blog post). He said he had been trying to get his sister to come out with him and wanted to show her that women do get out and hike. He asked our permission to share it and bid us a fun adventure. 

After hiking another hour or so, we started looking for sites to set up camp. Knowing it would be a very high tide that night and the next we looked for something near the treeline. Soon we found the perfect location, a fire pit with a previously made driftwood bench on the beach with a hidden tent site just in the trees. It was love at first sight! We wasted no time setting up the tent and claiming our spot so we could get to work scavenging firewood. 

We spent the next two days in an activity that is every mothers' dream...relaxing. When we try to relax while camping with kids they are constantly asking for us to do something. We try to explain that we ARE doing something...it's called relaxing! No explanation was needed on this trip. We sat in our chairs or on the sand and read books, watch the surf, explored tidal pools, talked without interruptions, took tons of pictures, laughed, felt young again, and enjoyed hours long naps to the sound of the ocean. It was just what we both needed. We spoke many times of our kids and how much they would love it there. We kept in touch with our families because we are moms and that's what we do. We vowed to do this every year possible from here on out.

After our five mile hike back to the truck, we found the $10 change that we asked for but didn't really expect. It was in an envelope tucked under the windshield wiper. We were both elated to know honesty and understanding still exist in a world that sometimes seems void of both.

Before we left for home, we took one more hike to Cape Flattery. It was an easy hike through beautiful green forests and on boardwalks that ended on a cliff overlooking the island on which stood Cape Flattery Lighthouse. The waters were teal blue and teaming with life, from seals to sea birds. We sat just off the trail and let our feet hang over the edge, savoring the last few moments of our adventure. 

Upon our return home, our girls came running out to greet us with hugs and kisses reminding us that all the times we wanted to adventure, but couldn't because our children needed us, was also time well spent.

The Honest Truth: what it's REALLY like to camp with kids

When I hear people say things like, "You are such an amazing mom!" and "It's so great that you do all those things with your kids!" I cringe a little inside, because I know the truth.  I know the ugly, un-photographed truth. I want to give you, dear reader, an honest look at what it's like outside of Instagram and Facebook. I'm going to let you be a fly on the wall or rather a mosquito at our campsite.

I recently took my kids plus my nephew on an overnight camping trip to White River Campground on the the east side of Mt. Rainier.  It's a place we love dearly and a short drive to an amazing sunrise view of the mountain. I wanted to do this trip 'car camping, the light way'. Which, in my mind, means no camp box filled with everything I don't usually use but would come in handy if I needed it, no lanterns, no fancy cooked meals, no swimming apparatus, no camp kitchen etc. I told my kids they were responsible to pack what they needed to sleep comfortably, clothes, a backpack with enough water for the next day's hike and that's it, I would take care of the rest. Now we've gone camping so many times and as they have grown older I make them be responsible for more and more of their own needs, so I figured they could handle it.

I shopped for the bare minimum as far as food goes, plus enough snacks/goodies to keep them happy on the trail. (Fed kids are happy kids....usually) Then I set to work with the boys packing our Yakima cargo box with chairs, sleeping bags, a small foldable stove and a few other necessities. We packed our large blue container of water, the food bag and cooler, all of our backpacks, pillows, etc.

Well, it's sounds like it all went quite smoothly doesn't it? What I haven't mentioned yet is while I was busy packing this kid sat playing on the Xbox, this kid fought with that kid, this one whined about not having any clean clothes, this one was nowhere to be found, that one was Snap-chatting with friends....just as one would appear to be ready to go they would disappear and then I'd find out they had no backpack..or shoes..or sleeping bag. So then I'd stop what I was doing and help them only to find two others laughing at funny videos on Youtube, which would be fine if they were already packed and had helped me get ready to leave.

So by now, my head is about to explode and most, but not all, of the kids have an attitude like I'm forcing them to live in a labor camp and like it! Everything in me should be saying, 'Why don't you just change plans and take them to the lake instead, you know there'd be less complaining.' but what everything inside of me is actually saying, and it's true, is, 'I know they'll be happy and grateful once we are there, we just need to get on the road!!!'

When my kids were little and I did EVERYTHING, it was, in a sense, easier. They got to be excited about a grand adventure and I did all the work. Now getting them to carry their own work load is like pulling teeth! The same thoughts that are there nearly every time we do something fun started creeping into my mind, "WHY?!! Why do I even bother?!!" But immediately the answers take their place, 'Because it's good for them, because they need to unplug, because even with all the complaining, they love it.'

So now we supposedly had everything packed. Once we were loaded up I ran back into the house and filled an insulated bottle with Coke Zero and a swig (or two) of Whipped Vodka and stuck that into the cooler. Before I reached the van, I could hear the fighting. "It's MY day in the front!" "I'm NOT sitting back there with YOU!" Trying to keep my cool, I told everyone where they were sitting and didn't allow for negotiations. We drove in silence. I'm sure I said some not so nice things that experts would say will scar my kids for life. But it was silent.

Traffic. Was. Bad.

What should have taken us an hour and a half took us two and a half hours and, of course, by the time we reached the campsite, we were all famished. I told the kids we had to find a campsite and set up camp, then I would get out the food.

The campground wasn't full, but many of the good spots were taken. In a stroke of good luck, however, we found a great site with lots of space and privacy and was close to the bathroom. We set to work setting up the tents. I gave the girls the job of setting out the chairs and start searching for firewood. Both tents went up fast, sleeping space was being claimed and then I saw it...

On a small post that was hidden by our van was a white tag. It was the pay stub that stated the site had already been claimed. I had to break the news to the kids and tell them we needed to move.  We feared that at any second a car would pull up with the night's tenants of our stolen campsite. I frantically looked around for nearby sites and much to my relief, the one right next to it was available, and it was also very nice, if not roomier. The girls and I literally picked up the tents fully set up and I hauled ours around the van onto the street and into it's new location. The boys took their larger one through the woods. I was proud of them, they worked together and got it done with minimal grumbling.

Come to terms with the tent situation

Drama has a name and it is ********. One of my daughters decided she wanted her own tent and couldn't see how the three of us girls could fit into my lightweight three person backpacking tent. I suggested she sleep in the van, because I didn't pack another tent. When the boys heard the conversation they hounded her in their brotherly way and she stormed off into the woods. I knew she was wanting me to follow after her and hear her out, but I also knew she needed to blow off steam, so I let her go. Now, I was irritated and had to cook dinner. Right before we left home I told Sam we should probably bring another canister of propane, then I changed my mind. Well, we ran out of propane just as I got the burgers in the cast iron pan. Sam got the fire going pretty fast and we ended up cooking them over the flames. Oh, by the way the container of burgers that looked like it could hold 8...it had four patties. Four patties for seven people.

So we ate our dinner of burgers, chips and....oh ya, that's it. Burgers and chips, I even forgot the ketsup.

When 'drama' still hadn't come back Hunter, who has always had a knack for talking to the one on the outs, found her and convinced her to join the family. Within five minutes she was eating dinner and smiling. The rest of the evening went relatively well. Three of the four boys forgot sleeping pads, Ben didn't even bring his sleeping bag, so they got to learn the hard way why they need to be responsible for themselves. Luckily they were all in one tent and kept warm by sharing blankets.

Happy Camper

Holding pieces of Rainier's history

Sunrise Point vista...Mt. Adams in the background

Oh, if we could all look as good as Rainier first thing in the morning!

 We attended the Ranger's Campfire talk about the history of Mt. Rainier, then kept the fire going and played our favorite camping game, Psychiatrist. As the coals died down we hit the sack and fell fast asleep.

My alarm went off at 4:30 so we could pack up and be up at Sunrise Point by 5:30 to watch the sunrise. I was so warm and comfortable though that I kept pressing snooze. Finally at 5, I started waking everyone up. The boys were up, dressed and packed in no time. Hunter, who would sleep until noon if I let him, said getting up was better than freezing in the tent. The girls took a little longer to get moving, but we were all in the van by 5:20 am with plans to eat where we park while we watched the beautiful sunrise.

We drove the winding road, up, up and up. The view widening and lightening as we rose. The sun was beating us to the mountain, but the scenery was quite the sight to behold. On our way up we saw a herd of at least 10-15 elk grazing in a lush meadow. We arrived at Sunrise Point as the Mountain blushed rose from the rising sun. I parked and we got out to take in our surroundings. There was a chill in the air but it was bearable.

Hot chocolate is a great way to start the day!

As we enjoyed the sunrise, I made hot chocolate for the kids and coffee for myself by heating up water in my MiniMo Jetboil. After eating Pop tarts, the kids were ready to go! There were a few people at the parking lot taking pictures, but nobody was hiking except for us. 

The trail started off heading downhill into the shade of the trees. It was a steady downhill and I kept thinking, "This is nice, but this will also be the end of our hike...a steady climb." Cecelia had a million things to say and, lost in conversation, she took a misstep and had a major belly flop on a downhill trail. This was early on in the hike and set the mood for the next couple of miles. Teary and sore from her fall, she fell silent for awhile. The four boys hurried ahead and Izzy journeyed back and forth between them and Cecelia and I. The wildflowers were a sight to behold. When your teenage son stops to stoop down and photograph a wildflower you know you made the right choice to bring them along no matter the struggle.

Looking down on the first of many lakes.

The mosquitos were a nuisance and they were very attracted to poor Cece for whatever reason, but because they liked her so much they pretty much left me alone. I felt bad for her though, she was constantly swatting at the suckers and at one point they had her in quite a tizzy. 

I don't know what it was about this trail, or maybe it was the hot cocoa, but almost every kid had stomach issues and needed to stop to poop along the way! I gave them a minimal amount of mountain money (T.P.) and told them to make sure to dig their hole before going. Cece was the only one that needed assistance and she had to go at least three times! So it was a slow go, but once that was over we were able to enjoy the trail and all it had to offer. This trail passed by at least five lakes before our final destination came into view, Upper Palisade Lake. We had been here before in early September but the lake was so much smaller   then that we were able to walk right to the boulders on the far side. This time we had to find/make a trail through the woods until we came to the enormous boulder field. This was where we planned on having lunch and exploring for a bit. Many years ago there was a major rock fall and now rocks the size of small homes provided cave-like exploration, fantastic boulder hopping opportunities and dream homes to many marmots. 

Right off the bat, the boys found the largest rocks and challenged themselves to jump from one to another. I let them be boys and do their thing in spite of my motherly instinct that made me want to warn them of all the dangers involved in what they were doing. I enjoyed nature in the same way with my friends when I was their age, although usually without my mother there to tell me to be careful...and I survived. They played for a good hour before they even thought about food. Meanwhile, the girls and I explored the cave-like areas and climbed high to get even better views of the emerald green lake. From where we climbed we could see the mountains stretch before us forever and the lake sparkle in the morning sun, the boys looked like ants and we were joined by marmots and hummingbirds.

first switchback

breaking for snacks in the morning light

hiking a meadow next to one of the many lakes

the "caves"

Boulder hopping

for perspective, Sam contemplating life on lg. boulder

Rock with a view.

The boys from where we were perched way up high looked tiny as ants.

I was irritated that I couldn't get a clear shot from where I was, but after seeing this picture, I was pretty amazed at this combination of sun and lens.

After playing, exploring and relaxing we headed down, or up to the rocks from different directions and met at the lake. This wasn't without incident, however. Isabelle was slipping on the rocks and scraping herself left and right. She just about lost it and decided then and there she was done. Even after reaching the lake the complaining continued. 

  The day had warmed up quite a bit and most of us were excited to take our boots and socks off and stick our feet in the water. Oh, but we had forgotten how cold alpine lakes can be!! The most we could do at first is have competitions to see who could hold their feet in the longest. After eating, they began to play by the shore. Before I knew it and after warnings of "Don't get your boots soaked!" several kids fell in, including Cecelia who had her second or third meltdown of the day. This is one moment where I was impressed with one of my kids preparedness. Isabelle packed an entire change of clothes and charitably offered them to Cecelia. After changing into dry clothes she mellowed out. Isabelle's act of kindness brought her cheerful attitude back and she was all smiles the rest of the day.

Several of the boys by this time had stripped down to their boxers and hesitated on the edge of a rock trying to muster up the courage to jump in. My nephew, Vincent, had also ended up with wet boots and clothes so he found a large rock to change behind. At the same time that Samuel splashed into the  icy cold lake, Vincent began howling in pain from his hidden location. My heart dropped and I ran as quickly as possible to where he was. He had fallen while trying to see Sam jump and ended up scraping his back, ankles, wrists and hands. I gave First Aid to his most serious scrapes and decided it was time to go. All the while, now Ben and Sam were in and out of he lake jumping in and swimming while trying to catch their breath.

I rounded everyone up but it still took a good 20 minutes to leave as everyone dried off, put on wet boots and gathered their stuff. We had 3.5 miles to hike back still.

The great thing about the Upper Palisades Trail is there are amazing views without too much up and down. The greatest elevation change is in the beginning (now for us, the end) of the trail. The way back was uneventful other than me trying my hardest to motivate the injured and the weary. Many times we would think, "Oh the car is right up there!" Only to realize we had another switchback to traverse. The climbs seemed so much longer than the descents seemed earlier that day. We still took time to enjoy and take in the awesome scenery all around us, best of all the welcome back view of Mt. Rainier, which, though so close, was quite evasive during the day. We arrived back to the van by 12:30 pm.  It just so happened that the day was July 11th. 7/11. Free Slurpie day at 7eleven. We stopped on the way home. 

Having a hard time smiling after falling in the cold water.

What I've realized over the years is that the stress, the anguish, the frustration, even the injuries and weariness...all the negative aspects of taking the kids camping and hiking are memories that sift through their minds like sand in a strainer. What remains are the heftier memories of adventure, scenery, overcoming challenges and time spent together. I know, without a doubt, that we will continue to explore, I will continue to get frustrated when everything and everybody doesn't work together in perfect harmony, but I will continue to cherish those moments when they do.

Pre-emersion

Boots drying in the sun.

open meadow with Palisade Rocks as a backdrop

Slurpie's make everyone happy.

Rainier welcomes us back.

An 'Un'-alarming Start to the Day

The alarm went off. Not the one I set on my phone...the one in my head that told me, "It's light outside, why are you still in bed?" I bolted upright and stared at the clock in stark confusion. 6:38. I stared at the time in my reluctantly conscience state and tried to make sense of what that meant. My thought process went like this, "6:38.......six.....thirty-eight...6:38!!!!!! CRAP! We are supposed to be out the door at 6:30 to get Sam to school on time!"  I vaguely remembered, and still can't say for sure whether it was a dream or not, angrily pushing the snooze button on my phone as though wanting to stab a whole through the darn thing for waking me up! I'm guessing it wasn't a dream.

So I sprung from my bed, went from room to room jiggling one kid after another awake with urgency in my voice, "I overslept, we are supposed to be on the road...NOW!! Get up, get dressed, we have to GO!" I got myself dressed, ran a brush through my frizzy hair, brushed my teeth, threw on some mascara in an attempt to make myself look awake and poured my coffee.

The kids were out the door in record time without breakfast and grabbing random lunch food items as we head out the door. On the way to Sam's school, 35 minutes away, I made sure to tell everyone how awesome they were. Providentially, Samuel's teacher was late that day and he ended up waiting for her to arrive instead of vice versa. And by the grace of God, we still arrived at school with 2 minutes to spare. As I made my way down the ramp to my classroom a dozen sprightly 6-7 years bounded my way. I knew I would need another cup of coffee to handle their energy.

When I got home after a pretty good day, I had a text from my sons' teacher. It said, "I hope (so and so) can get some sleep. He was kinda cranky today. (not being bad, just CRANKY!)" I responded like this:

Yes, when I saw Cecelia at lunch time she was eating a bag of chips and a string cheese. Samuel didn't have lunch, I have no idea what the others ate and yet, not one of them complained. Most days, I am frustrated with my kids because I am practically dragging them out the door after innumerable reminders to get dressed, pack lunch, eat breakfast, brush teeth, grab homework etc., the list goes on and on. But sometimes they remind me that they can work as a team and when they do, they are fabulous!

7 More Weeks!

33 Days to be exact (not including the weekends)...not that anyone is counting. Ok, everyone is counting; students, parents, and teachers alike and probably all for different reasons. And when you are a parent/teacher you are counting doubly, like a couple times a day just to make sure you didn't miscount.  Some parents are counting with apprehension wondering how they will juggle the new summer schedule with their work load, some are counting with joyful anticipation knowing soon they will finally have a more flexible schedule and won't have to pack lunches every day.  I count with a giddy and impatient fervor. With the joy of a parent whose schedule will be freed up to live at our own pace, and begin a summer of new experiences.

I am so blessed to work where I do. To have the same days on and off as my kids (with the exception of Sam) and to be able to enjoy the summer almost as a kid does. I am blessed to work with three nuns who have dedicated their whole lives to the Catholic education of children and who care about them as though they were their own. Three nuns who I am proud to call my dear friends. I am blessed to be able to attend daily Mass and to have my children receive the sacraments with me.

It's easy to get caught up in the tedium of our day to day work and long for the weekend or spring break or summer, but the truth is I have it made. I have to stop every now and then and remind myself of that fact. We went back to school today after a ten day break and even though it was hard (boy was it hard!!) to get out of bed at the crack of dawn, it was great to see my students again and my fellow teachers. In each of them, however, I could sense excitement that we are in the final stretch.

A highlight of my day came when I first got to my classroom and the older sister of one of my First Graders brought me a sugar-free vanilla latte, on it she had written with a Sharpie, '7 more weeks!!☺'
Many times prior the same kids' dad had purchased myself and his daughter's teacher a morning coffee and while it's always such a sweet surprise, several times I had to pass it off to our secretary on account of my sugar-free diet....but not today.  I am thankful.

sometimes we do this for our staff meetings ☺

A New Chapter

My boys are growing fast. The girls too, but the boys are definitely in the metamorphosis of adolescence. Samuel and Hunter have changed so much this year that pictures of them just last year make them look like tiny little boys. Their voices have deepened, their 'staches are budding, and they are constantly comparing their height and strength as a measure of their manliness. They both crack me up and drive me crazy. When they were little I can't tell you how many times while in line to pay for groceries, I was told by older women to, "enjoy them now,  they grow so fast!" I tried, and I did. But it was difficult, as a single mom, through the diapers, tantrums, fights and sleepless nights to think to myself, "Wow, I really enjoy this!"

That being said, I truly have enjoyed every stage of their growing up. Now (when they aren't fighting over the Xbox or bickering with each other) I enjoy their hilarious sense of humor and having conversations with them that are both entertaining and thought provoking. Both Samuel and Hunter have joined me in volunteering for Pierce Co. Search and Rescue. We've gone through training together, attended meetings together and have searched together for both people and important evidence. I can look back and say I truly have enjoyed them as babies, as children and now as young adults.

And now, together, all six of us are embarking on perhaps the scariest adventure of all...Samuel is beginning to drive. The very idea of my child operating a vehicle amidst crowded roads and so many crazy drivers is torturous!  Sitting in the passenger seat with absolutely no control and trusting he will be able to make good judgements is the greatest trust fall of all! He is in his fourth week of driver's ed and I try to let him drive every chance I can. In all honesty, he's a very good driver...much better than I was when I started out. That's not to say we haven't had some hair raising moments:

The Itch

Writing keeps me open as a person, truth spills out when I type whereas it might get sugar coated when I speak. For the last year, however, I have done VERY little writing....ok, I haven't done ANY!! I have blamed the old equation: my job + my life = no time. "I will write come summer." I told my mom the other day when she asked me why I haven't written anything. "That's what you said last summer!" she replied. Then it dawned on me...she's right. Why haven't I written? Is it because I don't have any truth that I want to share? Is it because I don't believe myself worthy to take up others' time with my words? Is it because I'm just plain lazy? Maybe a combination of the latter two.

There is an itch, however, that I can't ignore. An itch that is enough to get me back in front of my computer regardless of my kids hovering around me needing this or that as they are doing right now. So here I am. Truth? Do you really want it? I just told my kids that there will be one full day every week without the damn Xbox because I don't want to hear them arguing about who's turn it is. Now they are mad at me and I just remembered why I haven't written. It's because typing on the computer is like talking on the phone, no matter where my kids are or what they were doing, as soon as I am busy, they become as needy for my attention as when they were little.

The truth is also this: my kids are my life, and their needs will come first, even if my eyes are on the verge of bugging out and my head is about to explode, which is what happens when your mind tells you it's time for camping but the weather forecast tells you otherwise.

The mud season has arrived in the PNW. I saw a very accurate meme about Oregon weather that applies as well to the weather here in Western Washington. We have 11 seasons of the year: Winter, Fool's Spring, Second Winter, Spring of Deception, Third Winter, Mud Season, Actual Spring, Summer, False Fall, Second Summer (one week) and Actual Fall. Right now the rain is falling outside with a vengence and our much anticipated first hike of the year with Pierce County Search and Rescue was cancelled due to high wind warnings. This would have been exactly what we needed right now, fresh air and space from one another. Oh well, life goes on, and sunny days are bound to come....right?

A Miracle Cure

There are a couple bugs going around right now, and as a teacher, I am exposed to all of them. There is the stomach thing; dizziness, weakness, nausea and possible vomiting . Then there is the face thing; sinus pain, stuffiness, and runny eyes and nose. One of my students recently succumbed to the first bug. She was sent home.

By that afternoon, another student seemed to be a victim of the same thing. With a vivid explanation of how he felt, ("My stomach feels like it is moving up to my throat, and I feel really, really weak, even weaker than my baby brother. My head feels spicy and I'm dizzy.") I thought, "Oh great, it's going to go through everyone!" I tried to contact victim #2's parents, even though it was nearing the end of the day. They were unable to come early, so I had him lie down on our reading rug and try to rest.

It turns out is was another student's birthday this day and she brought cupcakes to share with the class.  While the class, excepting sick child #2, were out at P.E., I sat at my desk to enjoy a few moments of silence and prepare for the remaining hours of the school day. #2 had much to say...a LOT to say. Now, I cherish the few minutes in the day where I can sit in peace and not speak to another living soul, but he had so much to talk about. Finally, I had to say, "You know, when I'm as sick as you are, I can never talk as much as you are doing right now...." He seemed to take the hint and rested quietly for a few moments until the bell rang and the rest of class came clambering in.

Upon finishing our afternoon routine it was time to pass out the cupcakes. It was in this moment that I believe I discovered the cure to the stomach bug that is going around. CUPCAKES!! In an instant, that child was off the floor, smiling and cheering with the other students at the prospect of feeding his sweet tooth. Now, I'm no expert, but I believe even scientists haven't come up with a cure that works this fast. It was amazing!

Now, as for the "face thing" going around. I caught it Friday and felt so miserable that I'm pretty sure I caught the 'man' version of it. Not much got done over the weekend, but I'm feeling better now. Here's to good health, everyone!

Underground to Above the Clouds

"Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing." - Helen Keller. 

This may be my favorite quote of all time...but then I can't be sure because I am a lover of quotes. One day, maybe I will be quoted as saying something earth shatteringly wonderful....okay, I'm getting ahead of myself.  My latest adventure, however, brought this quote to mind..."life is either a daring adventure, or nothing." I'm pretty sure Helen Keller and I would have been great friends; she'd never judge me for the way I looked or what I said, she'd never repeat secrets I told her or speak unkindly about me. We'd walk together in silence experiencing one dangerous adventure after another.

With that being said, I was thankful for the adventurers I had with me the second week of July when we traveled 140 miles south to the great and powerful Mt. St. Helens. I had acquired our climbing permits the first possible day way back in February. After that the date of our climb was set in stone as the permit process is pretty rigid. The weather, however, in the Pacific Northwest (PNW) is as fluid as the sea that dictates it's changing ways and with our hike rapidly approaching, we were heading into a cloudy stretch with chances of rain. I even read reports that given the variable of wind, the temperature at the summit could feel like 37 degrees!! Yes, it was still July, last I checked.

The weather forecast didn't dampen our spirits, however, we just packed accordingly. This trip was a promised "one on one" time for Samuel and Hunter as I had already gotten to spend special time with Ben and then the girls. It ended up being "one on four" though because my nephews, Donovan and Thomas picked up the extra permits we had acquired. It turned out to be perfect, however, because everything is always more fun when cousins are around.


After Mass, we drove the almost 2 1/2 hours to Cougar, WA where we checked into Lone Fir Resort. The room was gorgeous and comfortable, just what I was looking for, and there was a pool outside, just what the boys were looking for. First off, though, we all wanted to explore the Ape Caves.


This longest continuous lava tube in the continental U.S. offers 2.5 miles of dark explorations. We made sure all of our flashlights had good batteries and layered on some extra clothing. The caves were only about a 10-15 minute drive from our room. 

I've been to the caves before but my children had not. The last time I went was with a few of my siblings and their families and all I really remember was passing babies back and forth to each other as we struggled to climb volcanic boulders in the dark without falling over or dropping one of the little ones. I looked forward to doing this now with my boys who can not only walk on their own two legs but give me a hand if I need one. 

We arrived at the parking lot for the ape caves mid-afternoon and descended into the opening via a steep, metal staircase. We had the option of taking the longer but easier lower tunnel to the left or the shorter but more difficult tunnel to the right. We went left first, then when we returned from the lower cave, we explored the upper cave. The hike was an easy albeit somewhat bumpy walk through an amazing couple of miles of underground trail. Toward the end of the lower cave the ceiling became lower and the walls narrowed.  Being claustrophobic, just breathing normally become laborious. I literally struggled to take a deep breath and knew that I needed to turn around. The boys didn't seem to have a problem, however, especially Hunter who crawled his way to the point where we had no choice but to turn around and head back. 

Oh, by the way, did I mention this hike takes place entirely in the pitch dark? You cannot see your hand in front of your face. Some of us wore head lamps and some carried flashlights. Wearing a headlamp made it easier because many times in the upper tunnel we had to use our hands to climb up and over large abrasive boulders.  At one point in order to go further we had to scale an 8 foot wall with only one foothold in it. We helped each other up and over without much trouble.

A sign outside the caves said, "No Smoking in Cave", well someone did not heed the warning and the smoke, or at least the smell of smoke, having nowhere to go, clung thick and sickening to the cave's interior. I felt nauseous and welcomed the end of the tunnel. We were fooled at one point, thinking that an opening in the cave was the actual exit. It was the first natural light we had seen in awhile and the fresh air felt good in our lungs. The slight taste of the great outdoors made me hungry for more (and the hike itself just made me hungry!). By the time we reached the ladder at the end of the cave, I was good and ready to get dinner and relax before our early start the next morning. 

The air outside felt balmy compared to the constant 42 degrees of the cave. We hiked back not really knowing where we were going but hoping the trail we found would lead us back to the van. At one point our group of five and a group of four in front of us walked through a dry ditch that the trail traversed. I was bringing up the rear and noticed each person, upon walking through the ditch,  began flailing  their arms as though being swarmed by mosquitos. Before I knew it I too, was surrounded. I tried to shoo them away not overly concerned until Samuel told me they were bees! How I didn't make this distinction is beyond me, but of the nine of us walking through their territory, I was the only one to get stung. They got me through several layers of clothes just above my belly button. It was more irritating mentally than physically, or maybe it was just adding to my already hangry (angry on account of being hungry) state of being. I needed food.

We decided to eat at the cafe at the Lone Fir Resort. It was more of a fancy sports bar than a cafe and the prices went along with the atmosphere. I ordered one large pizza for all of us to share. The boys got a pitcher of root beer and I got a Huckleberry hard cider. We sat across from a group very similar to our own, it was boys about the same age as my boys and their moms.  Three moms actually and three boys. The boys were obnoxiously loud and rude and the mothers laughed at everything they did and said. I thanked my sons and nephews right there and then for being the young men that they were.

After dinner, as we walked back to our room, the guys remembered the pool. Samuel and Hunter didn't bring shorts, but Donovan and Thomas came prepared. After begging and pleading with me, I allowed them to go swimming regardless of them not having swim shorts. At the risk of sounding like a bad mom, I didn't even want to know what they planned to wear (or not wear) in the pool. They headed outside and I passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow.

The next morning I rose early to take a shower. The boys were still sleeping, three to one bed and one of them with me. As I entered the bathroom I marveled at the still dripping wet jeans strewn haphazardly across the floor. The shower curtain and rod had fallen off the wall apparently on account of the weight of the wet clothes that were tossed over the top in an attempt to hang them to dry. Clothes were everywhere and the bathroom looked like the waters had receded after a major flood. I was just glad it wasn't my house.

We ate the free continental breakfast offered by the resort, and lots of it. We needed to fuel up for the long climb ahead. After returning the keys and checking out, we began the drive up the winding gravel roads to Climbers Bivouac where the trail up Mt. St. Helen began. It was a cloudy cool morning but it didn't feel like it would rain. When you are from western Washington you know it's going to rain simply by instinct, and my instincts were telling me that, in spite of the overcast sky, we weren't going to get caught in a downpour.

The trail started out at an easy grade (gaining 1,000 ft. in elevation in 2.1 miles), it was wooded and pleasant. A few small doe obliviously nibbled the soft green grass just off the trail. A few patches of bright purple wildflowers punctuated the green all around that seemed magnified under the lens of low clouds.  That atmosphere was such that we probably wouldn't even bat an eye if we spotted Sasquatch among the trees. It was quiet until we reached the junction at the Loowit Trail. Climbing past this point required a permit and only 100 permits a day were offered. Several people lingered there, resting before the hard part began, some realized they could go no further.

The first 2.1 mile easy forested part of trail.

Forest canopy

We grabbed a snack from our backpacks and made sure to be drinking lots of water. Then we followed the sign to Monitor Ridge. The climb to the top is 5 miles, one way. Like I said, in the first 2.1 miles we gained 1000 ft. in elevation, in the next 2.9 miles we would gain 3500 ft. That should tell you how steep this climb was! Not only was it steep, but the trail was only marked by log poles that were lodged into holes between huge volcanic boulders. We had to spot a pole, scramble hand and foot over couch-sized rocks until we got there and then try to spot the next one. This became increasingly more challenging as we approached the clouds and couldn't even see from one post to the next. It was fun, however, and although we were putting in full effort, no one complained. 

The beginning of the boulder field

Taking a break, with clouds in our hair.

resting in the clouds

The posts showed the way.

Flowers among the rocks

 The boys would often climb ahead of me and then I would find them all sitting in a group resting and grabbing a handful of flaming hot Funyuns or whatever bright red thing teenagers love to eat. At one point, I told them that they could hike as far ahead as they wanted but when I caught up to them they couldn't get going again until I had my own break. They were fine with this and it kept us all pretty close together, an added safety precaution we took was I had one walkie talkie and someone among them had the other, this way we knew basically where everyone was at all times. 


Somewhere along the line we met up with the three mothers and their obnoxious sons from the resort cafe. This served as added motivation to keep us going many times as my boys (ok, we) couldn't let them "beat" us to the top. So many times, however, we leap frogged back and forth as they took breaks, we would climb ahead, and vice versa. 

The boulder field ended and a different kind of difficult awaited us. The last 1000 feet or so to the top was a steep, sandy challenge of taking two steps forward one step back. The ground was soft and each step forward was met with a little bit of slipping downward. The challenge was as much mental as it was physical. At some point, with clouds in our hair, and sand in our shoes, we stopped looking at the ground and looked up at the scenery that surrounded us. The overcast sky was opening up to a brilliant cobalt blue and the nearby Mt. Adams played peek-a-boo almost due East of us. We could finally see the top, or at least what we hoped was the top. It was an amazing feeling to be able to look down on the top of clouds and know that you just climbed through them.

a cloudy view

Thomas and Hunter rest on the steep ascent to the top

Noticing the clouds breaking and Mt. Adams due East

The boys closing in on the summit

whatever works!

The clouds give perspective to the steepness of the ascent

Getting close!

Having spotted the goal, all of the boys, except Hunter, hurried ahead with a new energy. Hunter, although he could have easily left me in the dust, stayed with me. I'm not sure if they take turns or if it just occurs organically, but whenever we are hiking one of my boys stays nearby to keep me company. I try to reassure them that I don't mind hiking alone (I actually love it) but they lovingly insist on being protectively by my side and I love them for that.  The last 50 feet were the hardest but the scenery now was surreal. We could see not one, but two Cascade volcanos hanging out above the clouds, not including the one we were standing on. 

At the top, small as ants, we could see the rest of our group sitting down watching as we hiked onward, seemingly in slow motion. Hunter and I joked, the view is already amazing, couldn't we just call it good enough and rest where we were? But we have never been "good enough" kind of people, and as the mother/son group was gaining on us, our competitive nature pushed us to the 8,365 ft. summit. 

On the crest of Washington's most active volcano, we stood looking out, where 36 years prior a mountain blew it's top, ash rose 80,000 feet into the atmosphere, glaciers melted in an instant, and 57 people lost their lives. On account of the clouds we couldn't see the cone that has been rebuilding the mountain every year since that fateful day, letting the world know, she is still as dangerous as ever.  Exhausted, Hunter and I joined the others on the warmed rocky ground at the top and sat in reverent silence as we took in views of Mt. Rainier, Mt. Adams and Mt. Hood. There were other people up there also, all quietly resting in speechless awe. Our competitors arrived soon and the camaraderie that is shared among those who accomplish a common goal helped us see past any prior annoyances. Not in any hurry to turn around and begin the long trek down the mountain, the boys and I used our packs as pillows and lying down, we napped in the warm sun.

Approaching the crater

Mt. Rainier barely visible due to clouds

on top of the world!

walking the ridge line before heading down

Climbing party 2016

Sam and I

What goes up must come down, and we were no exception. After exploring the ridge line for a little while we realized the clouds were starting to increase, we thought it best to descend before we got caught in a rainstorm.  Looking down from where we had come, we paused before taking the first step knowing that it would begin the long, knee-pounding journey down the mountain. But without hesitation the boys took off, they ran/hopped looking like they were running on the surface of the moon, I followed behind and in an instant we covered as much ground going down what took us a good length of time and energy to get up. That ashy sand that made our ascent so difficult made descending the mountain a breeze...that was until we got to the boulder field.

After bounding down 1,000 feet in a matter of minutes, we gathered to rest and and regroup before we began the climb down and off the volcanic boulders. It was then that I realized a slight pain I had felt as we left the top had turned into a great pain that screamed for attention. My left knee was angry at me for the abuse I had just put it through. As we sat there, we could hear and see the mom/son group descending in a more careful manner than we had and although we had mentally proclaimed "truce" on St. Helen's summit, the race was on once more. 

This time Samuel stayed with me. Since there was no right path to take down we figured we'd all just meet at the bottom. The other boys went one way and Sam and I went a way that looked easier. We descended in the fog which amplified sound. Every now and then we could hear voices and couldn't tell if it was the other boys or our competition. After some time we saw Thomas making his way higher up on the slope and he and Samuel goaded each other that is was they who had found the faster way down.  It turned out that Sam and I were wrong. At one point, when we were back underneath the clouds we could look far below and see the meadow where the actual trail picked up. Donovan, Thomas and Hunter, looking like ants, were crossing the meadow and heading toward the trail. I was moving so slowly on account of my knee that I begged Samuel to go ahead, as I knew, in spite of his protective instinct, he truly wanted to. After I convinced him I was fine, he left and soon I could see him joining up with the others as they rested far below.

My knee pain had become excruciating and every move took a lot of effort. This is where that often annoyingly competitive nature of mine came in handy. I was determined to not be passed up by the other moms and so I pressed on. Soon, after being in contact with the boys via walkie-talkies, I met up with them and insisted on all of us resting until I was ready, even though they were chomping at the bit to get going. 

The rest of the way back to the van should have been a pleasant and easy 2.1 mile walk through the quiet and peaceful forest. With my knee hurting, however, quiet was replaced with the voice in my head constantly going back and forth between "you have to keep going, there is a race to be won!" and "you can stop, rest and even curl up into a ball and die." Luckily for me the former voice beat out the latter. I developed a hobble where as long as I didn't bend my left leg, I was okay. This is harder than it sounds and even the slightest bend had me wincing in agony. I felt completely alone in the forest as I didn't pass a single soul along the way. I rested when I absolutely needed to, but I was determined not to let three women I didn't know win a competition they didn't even know they were in. Funny how the mind works.

After what seemed like forever, the forest opened up to the trailhead and the parking lot where the boys were waiting. I apologized for them having to wait so long and they told me they had actually only been there for a few minutes.  I was shocked. It's amazing how a vivid imagination and stubborn spirit can push past physical pain.  

Best nap ever.

At Climber's Bivouac, where we began, there is a place to register your permit number, the time you began your climb, your ETA,  and the time you returned. We began at 7 am, estimated we'd return by 7pm and were able to put as our actual return time: 4:10 pm. It was a ten mile round trip and we made it in just over 9 hours. It was an accomplishment we were all proud of and one we will always remember fondly. As we loaded up in the van, the mom/son group emerged from the woods. We all smiled with secret satisfaction.

back into the clouds on the way down

By the time we reached the van the sun was coming out.

Samuel and Hunter on their "Mom Date"

(Click on pictures to see them enlarged)









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