Monday, July 28, 2014

The Departure

Day 27, The Camping Adventure Begins. I enjoy it vicariously.


Some people enjoy punishing themselves by seeing how little they can survive on for an entire week. Outdoors. In a forest. I am not one of those people.

I am what is called a "glamper," meaning I need to have a mall within a mile in case I run out of Victoria's Secret Sensual Blush body wash while I'm camping. Another prerequisite to my going camping is a tent with an air-conditioner and a guarantee that there are no bears or snakes within a fifty mile radius. My son however, feels that soap would weigh down his pack and is therefore not a necessity.

He and his mountain-man buddies left town on Day 27. They're driving four hours away through northern Utah and southern Wyoming to arrive in Utah's High Uintas mountain range. They will park vehicles and say goodbye to them for a week as they hike through the wilderness. They've been warned that if they are weak, they will be left behind.

I am no longer his protector. I'm not crying. Really.

Part of the crew.

Last minute rearranging and texting. No cell signal where they're going.

Securing the load.

Knowing that I will not see my son for a week, and that he might get eaten by a bear, get attacked by a wolverine, or get a blister, I attempted to secure an intimate last minute hug from him. Instead, he grabbed my forearm, said "Brotha," and yelled "Freedom!" as he turned his back on me.

I turned to Computer Geek, grinned, and said, "Yes, freedom!"

3 comments:

  1. Ah, I'm reading through the archives backwards so I know how beautifully this trip turns out, soap or no soap! But Weston's grown so much, I wouldn't have recognised him!! So many years since the Scotland T shirt!

    And I'm stupid...it's now dawned on me that you may have set yourself a month of posts! Coffee may not be enough...I may have to go eat before week 2!

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  2. Yes, you are correct (you know me so well!) I did set a goal of a month of posts--to take advantage of summer before it was gone without warning. And I hardly recognize Weston myself! When I have to look up to talk to him, I wonder where my baby has gone. He seems so tall to me, but all his friends are 6 feet plus, so he feels short next to them.

    ReplyDelete

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