I have not posted for a while. I was out of town for the weekend, far from any internet, and then my parents came for a wonderful, but all-too-short visit.
Where was I on the weekend? Sam and I had a scout trip to Red River Gorge for two nights of camping and backpacking. Sounds great, no? Except that the weather report called for freezing temperatures all weekend and snow showers all day Saturday. The ominous part for me was when I checked the forecast and below the posted low temperature for the day, which was 22, was a brief addendum, “Will feel like it is 12.” I have never quite figured out why, if it feels like it is 12, we don’t just say, “It is 12 degrees out.” Our first morning we got up about 6:30. I slept very little the night before. What sleep I did get was really my mind slipping in and out of consciousness from the cold. It was snowing. I was standing on a barren hillside with my hands in my pockets, surrounded by six other tents. I could not escape asking myself over and over, “Where are my car keys?
But after some hot oatmeal and coffee my spirits picked up. It did not seem so cold after we started moving around. And we ended up having a great time in the cold.
These photos show Sam with his scout patrol (the Scorpions) before leaving for home Sunday morning, Samuel setting up his tent, and Samuel with his tentmate, Charlie Starmer.
What would Anna have thought of all this? This one is easy. Before she died Anna whined and complained about not wanting to go to summer camp in Indonesia, Camp Miki. “Death Camp” she called it. In the middle of our weekend I pulled Sam aside and said,”Sam, THIS is death camp. Anna would have hated it here.” We both had a good laugh.