Almost camping...

First camping trip of the season. Or, at least it was supposed to be. I spent two days collected and preparing gear, figuring out how to transport four people and gear by bicycle into the wilderness, and rousing as much excitement as I could in the crew.

Ready for a weekend in the woods.
Or so we thought.

We did it all except the actual camping part. I consider it a successful shakedown trip. We know we can load it up, make it out there, and set camp. What we also know is as follows:

We overestimated Julian's ability to deal with long days.
We need to create a preflight checklist to make sure we have all essential pieces of gear.
We need a better footwear solution, especially for the kids, when there's lots of water around.
It is going to be an epic mosquito year.
This camping-with-the-family thing is going to be really fun for everyone if we can get it right.

I thought hard about our decision to pack it out at day's end. We had spent the better part of 5 hours pedaling, hiking, and enjoying the day to get to where we were. The spot itself was beautiful and right next to a raging cataract on Rattlesnake Creek (more like a river with full on rapids this Spring). Could we not just deal with some of our oversights, tough it out, and go home in the morning?

I went alone to the tent. I was tired. Sore. Spent, really. It had been a big day. So I figured that if I lay down on my sleeping bag, thought about it, and still my intuition was telling me to head home, then there was no way I could argue with that. We left.

Fleeing down the road over rocks and through streams, it took us 1.5 hours to reach the Rattlesnake TH, 4 hours worth of ground earlier the same day. Back into town in the fading sunlight, disappointed in the outcome but still marveling at the things we had seen and the fun we all had on a VERY long day in the woods. A reminder that even if things do not work out as planned, they are not devoid of value. Readjusting perspective to appreciate things as they are rather than how you think they should have been is a valuable insight, one with which I still occasionally struggle.

How we spent our Saturday, in pictures:

The day started out with a water crossing.

Which we should have taken as an omen of things to come.

I love my Vibram Five Fingers.
Extremely versatile footwear.

I ferried everyone's equipment across,
and Melissa across too.

So much water. This was at Franklin Bridge.

At some points, the road was flowing toward us.
Hard to see, but there's around an inch of trickling water on the road surface.
It was like this off and on for a mile or so.

Beautiful flora right now.

Rene says this is Oregon Grape.

And this fuzzy one is Mullen.

SHROOMS!

The hottest part of the day found us climbing an exposed bit of talus over a landslide area. As I was dripping sweat, I thought "What I wouldn't give for a patch of snow about now." Right around the corner, lo and behold.

Best rest stop ever.

Not sure Melissa has ever been so happy to see snow... in June.

We climbed around on rocks.

Julian is a born climber.

Rene found some high spots, too.
This was directly opposite our camp site.

About 20 feet from the campsite was this raging torrent of water through huge rocks.
Melissa found a great spot to sit and wonder at the power of all that water.

I thought I would take a moment to relax there myself.

Dapples and puddles of green and blue.

My attempt at an "artsy" shot of the falls.
The sun had recently disappeared behind the canyon walls.

Last of the day. Going home.