Camping on the White River
While I was brushing my teeth at 6:30 a.m., three-year old Ian snuck into the bathroom with his backpack strapped on and said, "Me go camping, Daddy." "I have to go to work first, Ian. We'll go after lunch." Ian As I'm walking out the front door 15 minutes later, seven-year old Edward bounds down the stairs with his backpack strapped on and said, "Is it time to go Dad?" I am tempted to say something stupid about them not ever listening to me, but I stop before foolishly extinguishing their excitement to spend time with me, and remind him that we'll go in a few hours. I still believe in preparing the night before, even if it gives them a false impression that we are leaving sooner rather than later. The drive into and through the trees and hills surrounding Mt. Hood took about 90 minutes. Ian dreamed of throwing rocks in the river while Aaron and Edward played Pokemon with their friend Josh (who, along with his Dad, rode with us). We