Camping Along the North Santiam

From Fishermen's Bend
I took the two older boys on a camping trip to Fishermen's Bend, a large campground along the North Santiam River (which I believe is the fateful place where my dad crashed our drift boat when I was about six or seven years old), for an activity with our church. We did the same thing last year--and upon reading last year's entry, this year felt very similar, except I didn't have to change any diapers this time (thanks Eddie!). The weather was near-perfect (low-to-mid 70's and clear skies); I don't know if I'd attend if it was raining.

I spent a lot of time talking with my friend Cary Takara who, upon seeing me and the boys eating rice that we had brought with us for dinner, commented "You are more Japanese than me." I tried conversing in Japanese with Cary's youngest son, but he laughed uncontrollably at the idea that a gaijin was speaking some pretty good Japanese (Cary and his wife are both 100% Japanese). Their kids are fluent in both Japanese and English--a really cool skill that I wish my kids had.

I really feel for Aaron's future wife; the boy moves around so much during his sleep that it is impossible to get any meaningful rest.

Perhaps it was a combination going to bed late and waking up too early, but both boys fell asleep in the car on the way home from Fred Meyer several hours after coming home.
From Fishermen's Bend

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