Bagby Backpacking

A couple of years ago, Barb and I took the girls "backpacking" (it was backpacking, but I put it in quotes because it was barely backpacking) where we had to hike in maybe a mile on a flat trail next to a river. But! we all carried our own stuff (or, possibly, the parents carried most of the kids' stuff).

We met up with a couple of other families with similar-aged kids, and had a good time.  (Although, on the way in I remember walking along with Suzanne at a glacial pace while Barb and Elizabeth zoomed ahead.  That was kind of frustrating, especially when tiny Suzanne would pick up a piece of wood four times her size and decide to carry it the next 3/4 mile for "firewood.")

This summer, toward the end of our annual camping trip at Kingfisher, we decided to backpack with the kids at Bagby hot springs.  Bagby is a pretty choice destination spot, as there is a blazing hot spring there that decades ago folks built up to channel the water into wooden tubs.  In the 90s, when Barb and I first visited, it was a veritable Hippie Heaven, rife with naked people, unconcealed drug use, and a lot of love. Occasionally, I felt some sketchiness about drunk guys or dumb, intoxicated people (the buildings there have caught fire more than once due to loaded candle enthusiasts), but overall the vibe was Chaotic Good.

Some years ago, now, the National Park Service cleaned up Bagby -- banned nudity and alcohol; charged a modest ($5) fee for use; and, kept a couple of rangers stationed there full time (although, at the parking lot, a mile hike away from the tubs).

Anyway, beyond the springs are some great backpacking campsites. Since the kids were already accustomed to the hike (which is decidedly not flat), Barb and I decided it would be a good place to do a second backpacking trip.  (We love backpacking and would love to share that with our kids.)  At this point, we were the only family camping at Kingfisher, so we weren't missing out on socializing.

We did it, and it was pretty great.  There is something special about camping in the woods, where it's not a developed campground: collecting wood to build a fire (instead of buying a few bundles of plastic-wrapped cord wood from the campground host); finding or making a comfortable place to sit and to sleep; the profound lack of human noises; the isolation.

As we were hiking to the campsite, the kids alternated between enthusiastic and skeptical. Afterwards, I think they both found the effort worthwhile.  I'm looking forward to a lot more trips like these.

The Larrison family ready for our second backpacking trip.  Notice the great hiking boots worn by Suzanne and Elizabeth.

This spot is on the way to where we camped. It's hard to tell from the picture, but it's an incredible swimming hole -- very deep, very clear, and very cold.

Back country campfires are the best campfires.

Elizabeth bravely (in my opinion), asked to sleep solo in the hammock. Since the tent wasn't big enough to accommodate me, I decided to sleep near her (see the black sleeping bag on the ground? that's my spot). It was very uncomfortable, but I was glad to be near her. Sleep came eventually.

Reverse angle of Elizabeth reading her Kindle.  Having recently, unfortunately, inherited Grandma's Kindle, I can say that they are amazing for camping.

This was the stream next to which we camped. Upstream, where you can see that log slanted into the water, there was a wide spot that would be good for wading... if you were a toddler. No good swimming spots on this stretch.

Oregon is beautiful.

The next morning, when we got back to our campsite at Kingfisher, we learned that our neighbors -- total strangers -- had been concerned about our overnight absence.

People are good.

Grandma's Baby

Editor's note: I started writing this post in June, but didn't get around to publishing it until today.

It's been a little over a month since Sherry's death, and I wanted to give an update on one of the individuals hit hardest by her passing: her cat Baby. I'm not being facetious, or cute. Barb, the girls, and I all knew that Mom was dying. It happened faster than we expected, but it wasn't unexpected. We had time beforehand to prepare for the inevitability of the end that will come for us all.

I don't think Baby was prepared.

Baby was loyal to Sherry in a way that I've never seen in a cat, and I grew up with cats. He was dog-like in his devotion (no insult intended, Baby). When Mom would leave the property, he would follow her out to the car. When she returned from her appointment, he'd be waiting. He would vocalize his displeasure with her absence (or pleasure with her return?) the whole time she walked or rolled from the car back to her cottage.  He slept with her every night. He shared meals with her (gross to some, lovely to Mom and Baby).

He always slept with her, often burrowing under the blankets and sleeping completely covered -- another thing I've never seen a cat do. When Grandma was dying, he was always by her side, or lying on her. After she passed, Baby slept on her body the whole night. When the funeral home attendants wheeled her to their van, Baby followed her out as usual, watching as she was driven away.  I don't know if he expected her return.

He continued to live in the cottage for a while.  Eventually, we removed the cat door from Grandma's cottage and installed it in our back door. We started feeding the cats in our mud room, and then transitioned them to our kitchen. After a surprisingly short while, Baby started sleeping with us in our bed.

Two Rivers in Two Days

The girls and I found ourselves in the unusual situation of being without Barb this weekend. She and her girlfriend went backpacking (!) on Mt. Hood for two nights. As the weather was warm and sunny, we hit the water. On Saturday, we accepted an invite from Aaron and Wendy to go to the Sandy River.  The Sandy can be a very dangerous river -- two children drowned in it this Summer, and that's not unusual. But the stretch of river we went to was broad and shallow, with a firm but not dangerous current.  We had a great time exploring, swimming, and floating down the "rapids." The only downside was that Elizabeth lost a treasured pendant she had worn every day for more than a year. She was sad, but recovered quickly. There will be more jewelry.

Not the greatest photo, but gives you an idea of the scene. There were a good number of people and a few dogs enjoying the water alongside us.

This odd picture was taken with a clip-on fisheye lens of Aaron's. Kind of cool.

That night we did some grillin' and chillin' at the Larrison residence with our river rat friends and Brian and Riley, who joined us after their own day of adventure. (They are ex-husband and son, respectively, of Barb's backpacking partner, Teresa.)

The next day started slow: not having Barb around keeps a single dad busy! So the kids had their screen time while I did dishes and laundry and tidying and etc. After the morning we were at loose ends -- Suzanne wanted very badly to go to Oaks Amusement Park, but Elizabeth and I didn't. We settled on a swim in the Willamette River, which runs through downtown Portland. We were a bit upstream, but the water was busy with boats large and small. The best thing was every time a boat powered by, its wake sent waves surging onto the riverbank.  We bobbed around like corks. Suzanne was having so much fun that at one point as she was laughing a wave filled her mouth with river water, which wasn't much fun. At least the Willamette is cleaner than it used to be: our tax dollars at work!

 

After the river we met Pat and Karen at the house. The original plan was to go out to dinner, but we decided to order pizza and stay in. It was very nice, and by the end of the day, bed was very appealing.