The boys and I are back in town after a week-long camping road trip. We drove through Death Valley. Spent the night in a cute cabin near a creek. Explored the ghost town of Bodie, California. Camped at Loon Lake. Had ice cream in Carson City across from our state’s government buildings. Spent the night in the famous “haunted” Clown Motel. There were laughs, and kid fights, and parents worn thin. It was an adventure and a great memory-making trip. My second-time camping was another success.
We spent lots of time at the lake, both in the water and on the shore. We did a short hike—I am sorely out of shape. The boys tried to fish. I threw rocks in the lake with my cute nephew. The boys got to kayak with some of the adults. I was talked into kayaking for the first time and immediately flipped the boat and fell into the water. All around, it was great!
While driving home, I realized some of my favorite memories of trips have been the embarrassing ones. My favorite thing about this camping trip was falling out of the kayak. One trip to Duck Creek in Utah, I slipped off a rope swing and slid my ass down part of a hill. I laughed so hard. I think these are my favorite moments because it shows how resilient I am and have been. I get knocked down and I get the fuck back up. That’s me.
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