The first night of camping arrived and brought with it, as suspected, the colder temperatures. Luckily we all came prepared. For Willah, being prepared meant that she had been able to persuade her mother to take her to Target to buy the essential camping equipment: footie pyjamas.
Yes. As you can see the wise mother is wearing hat and scarf and a cosy coat. The beautiful daughter is wearing the rather amazing fox-themed pyjamas. (A fair amount of the evening's conversation was centered around what would be the most appropriate name for the fox pictured above. And I'm not talking about the girl. Right now that name escapes me, but if I remember I'll let you know.)
Of course, the best feature of the pyjamas were the adorable
fox faces on the feet (say that ten times really fast). You can see obviously why a person should not embark on a camping trip without such an item of clothing in one's suitcase. Needless to say, Willah was warm all night. However, as she is never cold, I am not sure if we can really attribute her warmth to the pj's.
Now, you are probably wondering how one spends one's time in the evening at a campsite where the temperature is dropping minute by minute and you are
not allowed to build a fire because it is too dry. Well, I'll tell you. You all go into the children's tent and you rig up a lamp so that there is sufficient light and you play cards. A clearly evil specimen of childhood is pictured below. I believe he was enjoying the fact that he was winning. Either that of he was jagged up on hot chocolate.
However, you should also notice that he has not yet realized that cold means cold. And still the children claim they are not cold and long for some really low temperatures....
Early in the morning Joseph sang a different song. He hadn't slept ALL night. He was SOOO cold he had thought he was going to FREEZE. He was SOOO tired from not sleeping. Bad Camping! Bad Camping! Nice early morning sunrise though... You see, if you are so cold you can't sleep, you do get up early and jump around to create warmth.
Here is our tent by the way. We pitched it behind our actual campsite so that we would not have RV's butt up against us. And when we were soooo cold, you can be sure we made lots of scathing remarks about people who
think they are camping, but who climb into their cosy heated beds at night. HA! We said bravely. (If somewhat enviously). But we had bought a little Coleman heater to take along, which one person was able to warm fingers over... so it wasn't all bad.
But let's skip ahead to the beautiful 11 mile hike we went on.
No. I'm not being sarcastic. It
was beautiful. And the complaining about fatigue really didn't start till about mile 8. Any earlier complaining was, as usual, directed toward the woman who found that she still derived a huge amount of pleasure from the close-up details of small, often dried plants, and so fell behind regularly to take pictures such as the one above.
We saw the most amazing rock formations. This one Glenn decide looked like the Sphinx (and thus it became named), but Glenn decided that the Palo Duro Sphinx was actually MUCH better than the Egyptian one, and generally we all concurred that the 'real' Sphinx is rather a disappointment. (mainly because of its sad surroundings.)
Check it out. Like a huge rosy, white striped skirt for a giantess. I'd wear it.
Really impressive.
Back to the minutae. This little plant caught my eye because the centers were pale lavender. I thought it was beautiful. I am sure no one else saw it. Certainly not the mountain bikers who were whipping around the trails. Shame really. (An aside about the mountain bikers, which until we got to the more well worn trail, were the only other people that we saw: Glenn commented that when he looked at them all he could think about was how much money they had all spent on their bikes and gear.)
Back to the rocks. These huge sheets of smoothish kind of mustard yellow and red rock were also impressive.
As were these little sprays of gold.
And these. Now, just fyi. Palo Duro Canyon is having a photography contest... with entries for professional and
amateur photographers, and there are different categories: landscape, plants, people. And yes, I do want to send in a picture. So feedback on the best choice would be much appreciated. I am thinking of course that I should send in a plant entry, but I am open to suggestions.
This was the destination of the 11 mile hike (round trip) by the way: A rock formation called 'The Lighthouse'.
And here it is. (I got vertigo trying to take this picture.) (Mainly because I knew that just a little to one side of me was the drop off pictured in the photo previous to this one.) (You know me and heights)
This is one happy camper!! It was spectacular.
And just because I knew it would generate remarks about me being a creepy stalker photographer from my children, I took this picture of a little German girl, because she looked so great sitting on the rock. Too bad she isn't my child, because then I could enter this picture in the people part of the competition.
On the way back to the campsite, our party decided to split up.
This was our first mistake. Here's what happened: Glenn really wanted to add an extra trail loop to his hike but Joseph was feeling tired and wanted to go straight back. I said I would go back with Joseph, and Glenn could go on with Willah. (Notice I am implying that it was Joseph who needed to go back. Okay, the truth was, I was
damned if I was going to add two more miles to the hike. My aging back and hips were already aching, and I was SOOOO glad that Joseph wanted to walk straight back.) So, we parted ways.
Before we separated we had the following conversation: Glenn said: "You take the car keys then, because you will get back to where we parked first, and if you want to, you can drive back to the campsite, and we will just walk back when we get to the road."
Cathy said: "Okay, but don't worry, we don't mind waiting for you at the car."
Glenn said: "See you in a while then...
Now you would think that this would imply that there had been a car key hand off at that point. Right? An honest assumption? Right? So when about a mile down the track, I checked all my pockets and didn't find the key, it would be natural to assume that the key had fallen out. Right? And of course it would also be quite natural to FREAK OUT. The above picture is about where I made the awful discovery,
which was shortly after I took this photo of some driftwood that both Joseph and I had decided look just like a Komodo dragon.
What would you do? Well you have to try and find the keys right? But your child is exhausted and is trying to face up to the ugly possibility that even if he gets back to where the car is parked, he is now going to have to walk from that point back to the camp site. You decide to send your child on to the car alone. Yes, I know, a plan that also seems kind of worrisome. But you do it anyway, and you yourself back track along the trail (with your eyes scanning the path), to the place where you parted company with the other two members of your family. No luck. Quiet desperation sinks in. As you walk back to the car on your own, a myriad of scenarios run through your head. How will the key be replaced? What if Glenn or Willah have sprained their ankle and when they hobble out of the bush exhausted and in pain, thinking that at last they can get in the car, only to find that the key is lost? Or the more real and worrisome thought: What if Joseph turned the wrong way when he got back to the road, and was wandering, tired and miserable, away from the car,
but you can't go and look for him because
you can't start the car....? And on and on. By the time I got back to the car, (where Joseph was in fact patiently waiting), the marriage had crumbled, and I had moved back to Canada. Gawd!
I told Joseph to wait by the car for the other two while I walked to the "Trading Post" to if someone there could help,
but before I could get half way there, I was startled by a honk behind me, and when I turned, well there they were approaching in the car. Well, by gum. Didn't that beat all! And what a royal pisser that I had wasted the last hour or so of a beautiful afternoon, ready to commit myself to a sanatorium. Now you see what happens when BOTH the adults in the relationship get senile at the SAME TIME. It isn't pretty. Sheesh. I tell you what. I needed a whack of ibuprofen, a half hour lying down, and then a goodly amount of wine to recover from that scare. So when the Park Ranger got out of his truck once we were back,
and walked over to tell me that I was not allowed to drink alcohol in public at the camp site, well, it was all I could do to refrain from telling him where to go.
All's well that ends well though. And clearly Willah was not even remotely bothered by the whole event, and if you own footie pyjamas, you own the world.
Joseph was a little scarred I think, but possibly more by the numbing cold he was not psychologically prepared for. This picture captures our morning quite perfectly I think.
And here you see Willah trying to warm herself in front of the postage stamp sized propane heater.
Ah well, we were very brave I think to do it, and on the whole it was beautiful and worth it. No really, it was....
But now let's pack up the campsite and head home (via Cadillac Ranch of course)
p.s. the fox was named Felix I believe.
they still aren't so old that getting to the Christmas stockings isn't an exciting and much anticipated event. (Joseph contained himself on this particular morning by reading Babar and Father Christmas out loud to Willah while she finished the most wonderful Christmas card ever for Glenn.) As you can see, we did eventually we get to the stockings and they were all extremely satisfying:
Christmas means an uneasy feline truce... which I recall being the one thing I hoped for back in June: that both cats could be in the same room without killing each other. Mission accomplished. Sort of.
Christmas means the most beautiful tree in the world,
it also means getting new underwear in your stocking,
as well as really weird things like glowing teeth guards. (well how cool is that!?)
Christmas means hanging favourite ornaments like gilt oak leaves, and the collection of travelling Santas.
Like glass ornaments brought carefully back from Venice, and retro metal ones like steamers with wheels.
Christmas means making sticky buns for breakfast when your brain is so confused and tired that you aren't sure if you got the ingredients straight, but which always seem to turn out just fine anyway.
Christmas means loving the baby Christmas tree too, with its white lights and little felt ornaments. Christmas means sneaking a quick nap and then going for the obligatory, brisk walk around the neighbourhood and wondering if it was really worth it because it was actually freezing cold outside, and my ears were numb by the time we got back.
