The Himalayas

"Are we going to the Himalayas?" he asked, his blue eyes twinkling. "No. Wait. Not the Himalayas. What is it called again?"

I had just told Isaac we were getting ready for our annual family reunion (with Brian's family) to the Uintahs. His comment was so appropriate in my mind, since the Uintahs, being so remote and so drastically high above sea level (10,000 feet?), may as well be the Himalayas to me.

Our work schedules dictated that we would only spend one night. I don't know how anyone spends more than one night at a campground with no running water anyway. So, it was perfect.

We arrived Sunday afternoon, pitched a tent, built a fire, and commenced making hobo dinners. We decided to try steak instead of hamburger this time (thinly sliced and chopped carne asada). They were the best! I was hesitant to change things up from what I am use to. But, now I don't think I can ever go back.

As I sat scooping raw meat, onions, carrots and potatoes into double thick tin foil packets, Katie walked up and said, "Eww that looks disgusting." She and Isaac are my terribly picky eaters. I said, "Everything tastes better when you are camping. We will cook them in the fire and like magic they will be delicious."

Isaac took my comment to heart. For the next thirty minutes we heard him explaining to Katie, his cousins, and everyone else how we were eating magic dinners and because of the magic they would be delicious.

Like magic -- he gobbled his up.

This is saying a lot.

For the first time in my memory since we started going to the Uintahs with Brian's family every summer 14-years ago, the bugs were minimal. Normally, I feel like I am swarmed by them day and night even with straight deet applied head to toe. But, this time, I didn't need bug spray until after dark. It was like a Himalaya miracle.

My brother-in-law told me that the reason it is so buggy (and, often cold, sometimes dropping below freezing at night) is because we go in early July and the season for camping there doesn't start until late July. I guess after that, the area becomes quite pleasant. I wonder if our hot, hot, hot summer accounts for why the experience seemed so much better this time.

However, Brian's sister said her family camped in the Uintahs last August and woke up in the morning to SNOW! I guess you never know.

On the topic of camping, growing up I loved it. I mean, I LOVED it!

Every summer we went to Strike Dam (in Idaho where I spent the first half of my childhood) and camped in a camper and took our ski boat out on the lake.

I treasure my childhood memories from Idaho when we spent time at Strike Dam with dozens of cousins. My dad is one of nine siblings and they all grew up to have large families. These were good, good times. There were always oodles of cousins to play with.

Sometimes my dad and the uncles would load up a bunch of kids and head to the foothills to camp. There was lots of dirt, no toothbrushes or hairbrushes and probably the only food we took was a package of hot dogs to roast over the fire. I am sure there were outhouses (if there were any facilities at all). My dad liked to camp remotely, much like Brian's dad.

I treasure these camping memories as some of the best times of my childhood.

After we moved to Utah, we made an annual tradition of camping at Bear Lake at a place where we could pitch our tent right by the water. Many more fantastic memories were made. We took the ski boat on the water and rode four-wheelers up and down the sandy shore.

When Brian and I married, I liked camping. Sometimes we went camping with friends and none of us even had kids. We did it for fun.

For Brian's first father's day (after Sophie was born), I surprised him with some camping gear and an impromptu camping trip.

That is why it was such a surprise when I started to lose my love for camping.

I think I can trace it back to the first time Sophie was mobile and I started to worry about her safety. That was also the summer I slept on the ground while I was pregnant with Ian. And, by "slept" I mean I laid wide awake and in pain all night. I thought this had to do with being pregnant, but, the reality is that after he was born, my body never felt like sleeping on the ground again. Two more pregnancies and childbirths haven't helped that situation.

Camping with two babies ages two and under (and then two ages three and under, and then three ages four and under) also dampened my affection for the great outdoors. I worried about them getting lost (I probably worried way more about this than necessary, but, every year I heard about some child wandering off in the Uintahs and being lost for days). I worried about them being run over by a car (it is so easy for young children to wander into the dirt roadways that are right next to campsites). There are also water dangers (lakes and rivers) and sunburns (thinner atmosphere) and mosquitoes (West Nile virus). It is no fun taking a child who is potty training to an outhouse and I didn't enjoy seeing my little cherubs covered in dirt head to toe as much as I enjoyed myself playing in the dirt during my own childhood (there were definitely toothbrushes and hairbrushes and clean faces on the camping trips when my mom was present).

I guess I outgrew camping. It has become a real challenge for me. I feel like a bit of an outcast around Brian's family since his sisters love staying for 4-5 days -- pregnancies, little kids, no showers, mosquitoes and all.

It is a challenge because I want my kids to grow up having crazy childhood camping memories like I do. But, it is hard to make those memories without camping.

So . . . I found myself in the Himalayas, I mean, Uintahs, eating magical hobo dinners, looking out over a gorgeous silver lake.

The bugs weren't too bad. The temperature didn't drop too low. And, I got to sleep on a fold down bed in the back of the van while the kids crashed in the tent with Brian. It was an absolute slumber party of one in there. I pulled down the blinds and devoured a good book before dropping off.

In the morning, we cooked wolf 'ems over the fire for breakfast. If all the electricity in the world shuts down, it looks like we are prepared to make all of our meals over a fire now.

The kids kayaked all over the lake for hours. Katie and Isaac seemed so grown up out there paddling by themselves. It was a lovely, lovely time. It has definitely gotten easier now that they are older and maybe the van bed is the answer to my camping woes.

Two weeks earlier, Brian and Sophie went on a pioneer trek while I took the other three kids to a hot springs in Idaho for a family reunion (my side of the family). It was one of those shady campgrounds with mowed grass. The boys slept in my parents' trailer and Katie slept in the van bed with me. We swam in the warm pools, there were showers, and Katie and Isaac entertained themselves endlessly in a small stream that circled the campground.

Two successful camping overnighters so far this year. Not bad. But, my favorite kind of grown-up camping is still the kind that includes a nice comfy cabin.