Thursday evening I told Barry I wish we had planned a camping trip for the long weekend.
Friday morning I was packing the cooler and Barry was loading bikes onto and into the back of the van. The whirlwind of packing, helping Brenna figure out how she could go from a state of no clean underwear to a state of clean underwear, last minute grocery shopping, and all that must be done to get a family of 7 reading for a camp out made us question our sanity, but once we got there it was all worth it.
Our lungs and spirits and entire bodies were filled with a breath of fresh air.
Our feet were refreshed (or nearly frozen, depending on how you look at it).
Our mountain bikes are dusty.
I even went on a real mountain bike ride– my first since we lived in Albuquerque nearly 7 years ago. It felt so good. I’ve come to the point in my life that there is no shame in walking the steep climbs with too many roots and rocks. I’ve decided that is the perfect place to be. I ride my bike to feel my body move and watch the birds– not to prove I’m a cool, tough girl.
Our tummies were filled. Our toes were warmed.
Our collection of random pieces of wood has grown.
Discoveries were made. (Like Logan’s friend the Pleasing Fungus Beetle.)
It was just what we needed.