And now we come to the last post in the Summer Travel Journal.
Sad, I know.
I was meant for the beach, but the majestic mountains also speak peace to my soul. With their mighty peaks and dizzying heights, they humble me; they serve as a reminder that their are many things greater than I. While at the same time, as I spend time sheltered by the shadows of the mountains, untouched by most of civilization, with clear air and beautiful skies, I can't help but feel that all of the beauty was made just for me; that I am important enough for God to put wildflowers and hidden lakes and mountain covered horizons on earth simply for my enjoyment. In the mountains, I can center myself between the two extremes of self-pride and self-deprecation.
Because we were in this beautiful place, we tried to take advantage of all it had to offer.
My oldest sister brought their canoe, so my family took it out for a spin.
Miss B cried most of the time.
That makes for a really peaceful and relaxing canoe ride.
Ok, so maybe it doesn't. But the boys loved it anyway.
This lake was supposed to be a good spot for fishing.
Um, not so much.
Poor T-Man, the kid is 7 years old and still hasn't ever caught a fish. He kept patiently trying and trying to get one, with no luck. I'm sure there is some sort of life-lesson in patience and "try, try again" in there, but really, if I could have figured out a way to stick a fish on that silly little hook without him knowing, I would have gladly done it.
|Um, Miss B? You've got some dirt on your pants. Just FYI.|
The group sitting five feet away from us kept catching fish after fish with a SpongeBob fishing pole. Our group didn't have the same luck, despite the fact that we were using the same type of bait. One of my nieces finally caught this little guy, but that was it for the day. After the little girl in the next group over did her 12532 "I just caught another fish and I wasn't even paying attention" victory dance and poor T-Man still hadn't caught anything, I really wanted to send SpongeBob to the bottom of the lake.
Not that I was bitter or anything.
Another day, we went hiking. It was supposed to be an "easy walk". Even though I had been training for a half-marathon, at 9000+ ft above sea level, a few crawling-over-rock spots, and with wearing Miss B in the sling, it was less of an "easy walk" and more like a "NEED. MORE. OXYGEN." moment.
And then when Miss B wanted me to sing the Itsy Bitsy Spider over and over again while hiking down, my little sea-level lungs were only happy when we got back down and I
flopped rested gracefully in the car.
Fearless was all about throwing rocks into water. Didn't matter how big the body of water was or how big the rock was--no puddle too small or rock too big to waste a good rock-splash opportunity.
|In the top left, you can see the little mud hole that is now filled with rocks, thanks to Fearless and his cousins. Sorry about that.|
|Fearless conquered this big rock. He was disappointed that we wouldn't all help him push it into the water.|
The view at the end of the hike was simply stunning. Definitely worth the oxygen-free "easy walk". Beautiful.
|We all made it! (We won't be putting this family picture over the fireplace either.)|
And now you have made it through our entire Summer Travel Journal.
Thanks for reliving the journey with us.