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Wahtum Lake, Mt.
Hood National Forest |
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As the rains finally ceased, thoughts of getting some badly needed work done in the yard came to mind, but doing yard work all weekend just didn't seem appealing when there was sun available for basking. Once I mentioned the thought of an overnight trip to the kids, I was on the hook. Taking off Friday evening after work meant a better chance of having Wahtum Lake all to ourselves.
We geared up in a chilling, steady breeze. I had bought Johnny his first backpack which he carried with pride. It was stuffed with warm pajamas, snacks and a favorite stuffed animal and even had it's own water bladder to boot.
Amber was giddy and focused on her plan to discover the long, lost prehistoric crawdads of Wahtum Lake.
It's moments like these that make me proud to be a daddy, not just a father. A father is mainly a result of having sex, but a daddy, to me, requires a deeper commitment, one that is not so common anymore.
We scrambled around the flooded lake's shores, looking for a site to pitch the tent in the fading light. It was rather difficult as most of the southern sites were closed for ecosystem preservation and the lake's surface was a few feet higher than I remembered. The trail was a flowing, boggy mess as we scrambled around many obsicles, finally finding a great site along the lake's flooded shore. I pitched the tent as the kids wandered before we all dove in for a night of Fish with a side order of goofiness.
Apparently, I was the only one to get the memo of the goofy pictures, but I persuaded them to join in.
Amber pranced about like a horse while Johnny yelled "geedeyupp" for her to go faster before the kids and I finally succumbed to the stillness of the Lake.
Like usual, I was up long before the kids and took a walk. It has been some time since I thought so deeply about the area I was in and the times I have been here. The strength my mind and body used to have gave me a feeling of melancholy. I had plans on returning to this state of mind, but it was slow going as family, work, home and cycling had me mentally drawn and quartered lately.
Snapping me from my mediation was Johnny's little voice, politely asking for some oatmeal. I got breakfast going for the two as Amber filled the local woods up with the sounds of snoring.
Kids fed and gear packed, I asked if they wanted to hike around the lake on a lower trail. They were excitedly on board and made their way across the bog to rejoin the main trail.
The lake's surface was high. There was no doubt about it as the entire log jam was under water. Even a couple trees to cover the jam were submerged at one end, requiring a delicate balancing act to get across for Amber. I crossed first with Johnny on my shoulders, just wading through at the end, as he hung on for deal life.
After the jam, we climbed up to the plateau above the lake and immediately lost the trail. I have been up here in the snow before and have lost the trail before as well as once you hit the flats everything looks the same. I stumbled around the sometimes three-feet-deep snow with Johnny on my shoulders, looking for any signs of a trail before finally finding it under a foot of flowing water. We reversed out tracks and headed back to our camp site.
We waved at our site as we stumbled through the various mounds of icy snow. The kids were actually having a lot of fun and were quite refreshed from being cooped up at home all week. The best part of summer trips are how long the sun lights the sky, giving us nearly the whole weekend remaining after a quick 24 hour trip.
I watched my son wade through the snow in his trail runners, experiencing at the young age of four what I had just seven years ago. Pride welled up inside me as I grew confident in his future. Not that he would be rich in the wallet, or successful in the failing eyes of modern-day society, but like his sister, confident within his own abilities, reliant on himself inside and outside of life back home. After all, if the child managed the 240 foot 25+ degree slog up from the lake without any help, what more is he capable of?
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