Now, it isn't actually such a long drive from our house to the camp, maybe 100 miles or so. It's slow -- first we drove through lots of post-flood road construction to get to Estes Park and Rocky Mountain National Park, then we crept over Trail Ridge Road in the midst of a violent thunderstorm (several people were actually hit by lightning up there both the day we drove over and the next day, and one person was killed each day), and then we wound down along all the hairpin turns to Grand Lake, US 40, and, eventually, the camp. But it's incredibly beautiful country (at least when the rain let up enough that we could see), so the fact that it took us 3 hours to drive 100 miles did not seem so terrible.No, the drive wasn't the problem. The problem was that I was still so tired, so worn out from the California trip, that I didn't have the energy to make any decisions about the camping trip, or think about it much at all. I remembered that the camp has a pool, so we should bring swimsuits, and I knew there would be a potluck on Saturday night and I worried about what to bring to that (ended up with some salads from the King Soopers deli). The kids and I took a last minute trip to Target on Friday morning and I bought some plastic bowls that would be good for fixing oatmeal in, and also a spiffy new tablecloth designed for picnic tables.
But there were so many other things I didn't think about. Like flashlights. Not until we were trying to get ready for bed Friday night did it occur to me that I should have brought flashlights. Fortunately Rocket Boy did bring a couple -- but we own about 10! And we could have used more than 2!
The first morning of the trip we were beside ourselves trying to get breakfast ready. It had rained during the night, so the picnic table was wet, the tents were wet, our shoes were wet, etc., etc. Rocket Boy tried to light the camping stove and realized he didn't know where the matches were, or in fact whether we'd brought any. It certainly hadn't occurred to me! Fortunately we located some, but then where was the oatmeal? Spoons? Tea? And after breakfast, where was the dish soap and sponge? In each case we did eventually find the missing item -- but stashed with the rest of our camping gear, not intentionally remembered and brought along on the trip. And each time I thought: Oh! Why didn't I think to bring that?! The answer each time was obvious: I hadn't thought at all.Once we'd finally cleaned up from breakfast and the rain, the trip got a lot better. Snow Mountain Ranch is sort of like Disneyland, a fantasy camp. It has every possible camp activity and several others besides. You can go horseback riding or canoeing, hiking or swimming. You can do archery, climb a rock wall, or play miniature golf. There's a crafts place, a library with games, various playgrounds, a little kids tricycle area. I know I'm leaving things out. It has fabulous scenery, wildflowers and birds everywhere, and yet no sign of pesky mammals like raccoons and bears. It really puzzled me, what they'd done with all the mammals. We left our cooler out all day, because it stayed colder sitting under our picnic table than in our hot car, and nothing bothered it. I did insist on putting it in the car at night, but there was no sign that any animal (other than birds) had been by. Odd.
OK, so anyway, the first thing we did on Saturday was play mini golf, which the kids remembered from last year. It's a great course, a lot of fun.
After lunch we went on the "Waterfall Hike," a popular short hike (maybe a mile and a half?) nearby.
Each night at bedtime I tried to read to the boos from the books I'd brought, but what they really wanted to do was to tell ghost stories in the dark tent. Or what passes for ghost stories in a six-year-old's mind. Here's an example of one of their ghost stories: "Once there were two ghosts and they went pee and poop all the time, ON THE FLOOR (wild laughter) because they didn't wear any clothes!" However, they also wanted to hear Rocket Boy and me tell REAL ghost stories, which we then had to repeat several times and make them even scarier each time.
I mustn't forget the other good part of the trip: the twins had a wonderful time. We had brought their bikes with us, piled into RB's old Mitsubishi Montero along with all other stuff because we don't have a bike rack, and they rode happily and continuously all over the campground -- along with lots of other children. Much of the time we didn't even know where they were, until one or both would come riding by to give us the latest.
During and after Saturday's potluck things got a LOT more interesting, because the boos met (or re-met) all those other twins. There were at least two sets of six-year-olds and two sets of five-year-olds, plus younger and older twins (12 families came, so at least 12 sets of twins, plus siblings). I discovered how difficult it is when your same-sex twins make friends with other same-sex twins, especially when they're identical or their mom dresses them identically. Sunday morning, trying to pack, I was driven to distraction by my own two and the two little boys from one campsite over -- all digging through our cooler, then running into the tent and tossing things around. I knew what the other little boys' names were, but not which name went with which boy, and I found this to be a disadvantage when I was trying to yell at them. Finally the other little boys' mom came over and tempted them with descriptions of breakfast (breakfast! they hadn't eaten yet! that's why they were trying to eat our food) -- and soon after I saw both of my children PLUS the little red-haired girl twins "helping" the other little boy twins with their breakfast. Poor other-little-boy twins' mom!
Rocket Boy suggested we might like to have a playdate with either the girl twins or the boy twins sometime, and I said hmm, I think they live in Longmont or Lafayette, it would be pretty complicated, let's not. Bad Mom.
On the way home, we went through Rocky Mountain Park again, and it was while driving over Trail Ridge Road that we discovered that Kid B's window would no longer go up and down. We JUST had Kid A's window fixed -- in fact, we picked up the Montero from the car repair place the day before the trip. Also on this trip, Kid A's door stopped opening from the outside -- same problem I just had repaired on my Subaru for $200. So it'll be back to the car repair place tomorrow.Fortunately it didn't rain on the way home. Kid B fell sound asleep clutching his Rockies' blanket, the wind from the open window ruffling his hair.
I'm really glad to be home. Maybe now I can finally recuperate from my travels.
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