At sleeping bag #4,398, approximately two hours after our intended departure time, we seriously considered unpacking the van and catapulting all camping-related gear into the bed of the pick-up truck, but instead we just kept shoving and throwing things on top of the already buckled-in kids until there was only a minimal pile of unimportant stuff left forlorn in the driveway.
We drove up the mountain up a crazy curvy hwy 80 which I can't recommend to anyone prone to motion sickness and got to Black Mountain Campground right before nightfall. Our friend had secured three spots all in a row for our three families, so we set up tents and thought longingly of supper. We set up our little two-man tent for the kids, ate some hot dogs and s'mores and remarked at how much we loved a campfire. I do love a campfire, my friend, and the brisk mountain air felt deliciously cool in my lungs. We were loving it! Even Jack the Anxious enjoyed playing UNO by lantern-light and burning marshmallows to a cinder, pawning them off on me. Everyone knows moms like burnt marshmallows the best.
|The Saturday morning wake-up campfire|
|The mob takes to a trail.|
|The leaves were just starting to change color.|
|The beautiful and talented Emma|