One of my favorite childhood memories is…ok more than one, would be the time that I spent in the mountains with my family. There are so many stories that I am not sure that I can just pick one, or even remember all the details.
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| This is what we hoped the mountains would look like! |
The moment that the snow was no longer on Lamborn and Landsend, we could head for the hills. Whenever I asked dad when we could go he always told me to look at the mountains, when the snow was gone, then we could go. Then every weekend from that point until the last second we would go to the hills, leaving Friday night after work and coming home Sunday evening.
We were lucky enough to leave our slide-in-camper on private property and this is where we grew up camping until sadly that property was sold.
I learned how to start a fire, was dishes while camping, how to squat behind a bush, that coyotes were more scared of you than you are of them, that rocks can look like bears, not to climb on gates, that it is easier for guys to pee on a fire than it is for girls, what stinging needle is, rotten-meat-dog-farts are the worst, the difference between an elk and a cow, and how amazing it is to just sit and be while in the mountains.
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| Not THE red gate, but a relative. |
Probably the most favorite memory that we get a laugh out of the most is the time that my sister and I climbed on the gate when we were told not to do so. The owner of the property had just replaced and painted the gate that went across the road that lead to his personal cabin. We were told not to climb on it, and I am convinced that if Dad hadn't said anything, we wouldn't have even thought about such a thing. Can you say forbidden fruit? We were like moths to a flame and went for a "walk." This walk ended up down at the gate, which we promptly climbed on. Little did we know and forget that my dad has been paid to stalk and hunt prey. He too went on a little walk of his own through the trees and watched us do the exact thing he had told us not to do.
Once we got our fill of being a rebel, we headed back to camp. Dad was sitting in a chair just chillin. We thought we were in the clear. Wrong again. We were totally busted. That was the last time that my dad spanked me.
Molly or I never climbed on a gate again.
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