We managed to squeeze another teensy camping trip into our fleeting summer by hijacking my next-door [much older] sister’s recent family getaway. I suppose living 50 yards apart just isn’t close enough.
Camp crashing’s actually been in the family for generations– why, sixty-two years ago this week our grandparents honeymooned at Crane Prairie, and both sets of folks and all their siblings descended upon their newlywed camp to join the them. (Can you imagine?! It was a different time.)
My sister and her tolerant hubby chose nearby Suttle Lake (coincidentally the campground where Husband spent the bulk of his childhood camping trips), and by day two Husband’s brother, our folks, and baby sister also joined us in roughing it. The more the merrier!
Husband fixed a hearty supper o’er the fire, which we earned by tromping off on a dusty hike. We were elated to spy river otters frolicking just offshore.
Next morning, we circumnavigated the 3.6 mile loop ’round the lake, exploring the flora, fauna, and resort amenities before stripping down to our swimsuits and spending the remainder of the day in the water.
The Thing 2 sweatshirt that Husband designed, 10 years ago, has now been worn by five darling girls. Throwback for nostalgia’s sake.