A Family Tradition
A family tradition
By Allan Olson
Well, we survived yet another camping trip with an even dozen people – seven kids and five adults. We returned from our four-day excursion at Fall Lake, the National Forest Campground located just outside Ely.
The trip was different from our original destination, and slightly farther, but our state’s political games altered our plans and forced us to choose a different location.
Our plans were adjusted and the route was planned; we had only one issue, the location we had chosen only had walk-in sites left. We didn’t know if there would be two campsites to accommodate us.
We found the campground about four hours after we left home, and held our breath as we went to check on the availability of sites. The friendly staff assured us they had room, and after consulting their map, they found us two campsites nearly right next to each other. We were in luck.
The first day was pretty relaxed. We checked out the big town of Ely and found the swimming beach in the campground.
The early portion of day two was spent with kids riding bikes around the boat landing site, where at some point during the day, two of my nephews collided their bikes. In the process, both of them sustained injuries and one bike was seriously wounded, sustaining a bent rim.
My brothers and I enjoyed a fishing trip, with Abigail joining us. That was a highlight of the trip, as we managed to not even get a bite. Abigail did manage to annoy her uncle when somehow she got her line tangled with his. To remedy the problem, he had to cut her line and ultimately put her pole out of her reach. She wasn’t happy. My youngest brother and I laughed at both of them.
Last week, when I asked her what she liked about camping, she said, “I liked fishing with Uncle Tony.” That drove me to laughter again.
Friday was also the night we lost a child.
It started out when the kids were biking to the beach. Abigail wasn’t able to ride her bike by herself, so her and Alivia took turns on Alivia’s bike (with training wheels). It was okay on the way there – painfully slow, but we made it. On the way back, the girls fought over the bike. Alivia wasn’t happy with the arrangement when she was walking, and I made them switch about halfway. Abigail, briefly unhappy, quickly made peace with the situation and started running and laughing. I wasn’t worried – at least not at first. But the longer the time went that I couldn’t see her, the more concerned I got. I couldn’t leave Alivia behind, either. We went from pushing her bike and back to riding at a seemingly slow pace. I was sure that Abigail had caught up to the others and was back at camp. When we arrived, that was not the case, and I was genuinely scared. Where was my daughter?
I ran for my bike and headed off, calling her name. My youngest brother was shortly behind me, and cousins and her brother behind him. I called her name a few times, and then I heard her call for me. Her voice was in a panic, too. I found her a few seconds later, safe and unharmed, but a little scared (probably not as scared as I was). Her story was something about stopping at stop sign, where she called my name, and I didn’t hear her. It didn’t matter; she was safe. We returned back to camp, where I needed a time out to calm my frazzled nerves.
On the next trip to the beach, I drove the girls while the boys rode with their older cousins. I wasn’t going to have a repeat of the previous day.
On our final day, Sunday morning, with the campsite packed up and one more planned trip to the beach in store, I decided that Abigail and I would bike. I would ride with her and she was not getting out of my sight. Only once did she manage to drive her bike into the ditch during a decline and fall slowly to the ground. Starting out again, things were going good, until we found another slope. Thinking I could slow her down, I reached down from my bike, riding beside her and grabbed her handlebars. The next thing I knew, I was going headlong over my handlebars. I was on the ground briefly, but managed to stop her before she crashed into my bike. Scratched and slightly bruised – only I was injured – we continued to our destination.
So despite the rain, the accidents and the alternate destination, a great time was had by all. Also during the weekend, we visited the nearby Wolf Center and the Bear Center, along with a visit to a nearby waterfall. We also made a couple visits to an ice cream shop.
By Allan Olson
Well, we survived yet another camping trip with an even dozen people – seven kids and five adults. We returned from our four-day excursion at Fall Lake, the National Forest Campground located just outside Ely.
The trip was different from our original destination, and slightly farther, but our state’s political games altered our plans and forced us to choose a different location.
Our plans were adjusted and the route was planned; we had only one issue, the location we had chosen only had walk-in sites left. We didn’t know if there would be two campsites to accommodate us.
We found the campground about four hours after we left home, and held our breath as we went to check on the availability of sites. The friendly staff assured us they had room, and after consulting their map, they found us two campsites nearly right next to each other. We were in luck.
The first day was pretty relaxed. We checked out the big town of Ely and found the swimming beach in the campground.
The early portion of day two was spent with kids riding bikes around the boat landing site, where at some point during the day, two of my nephews collided their bikes. In the process, both of them sustained injuries and one bike was seriously wounded, sustaining a bent rim.
My brothers and I enjoyed a fishing trip, with Abigail joining us. That was a highlight of the trip, as we managed to not even get a bite. Abigail did manage to annoy her uncle when somehow she got her line tangled with his. To remedy the problem, he had to cut her line and ultimately put her pole out of her reach. She wasn’t happy. My youngest brother and I laughed at both of them.
Last week, when I asked her what she liked about camping, she said, “I liked fishing with Uncle Tony.” That drove me to laughter again.
Friday was also the night we lost a child.
It started out when the kids were biking to the beach. Abigail wasn’t able to ride her bike by herself, so her and Alivia took turns on Alivia’s bike (with training wheels). It was okay on the way there – painfully slow, but we made it. On the way back, the girls fought over the bike. Alivia wasn’t happy with the arrangement when she was walking, and I made them switch about halfway. Abigail, briefly unhappy, quickly made peace with the situation and started running and laughing. I wasn’t worried – at least not at first. But the longer the time went that I couldn’t see her, the more concerned I got. I couldn’t leave Alivia behind, either. We went from pushing her bike and back to riding at a seemingly slow pace. I was sure that Abigail had caught up to the others and was back at camp. When we arrived, that was not the case, and I was genuinely scared. Where was my daughter?
I ran for my bike and headed off, calling her name. My youngest brother was shortly behind me, and cousins and her brother behind him. I called her name a few times, and then I heard her call for me. Her voice was in a panic, too. I found her a few seconds later, safe and unharmed, but a little scared (probably not as scared as I was). Her story was something about stopping at stop sign, where she called my name, and I didn’t hear her. It didn’t matter; she was safe. We returned back to camp, where I needed a time out to calm my frazzled nerves.
On the next trip to the beach, I drove the girls while the boys rode with their older cousins. I wasn’t going to have a repeat of the previous day.
On our final day, Sunday morning, with the campsite packed up and one more planned trip to the beach in store, I decided that Abigail and I would bike. I would ride with her and she was not getting out of my sight. Only once did she manage to drive her bike into the ditch during a decline and fall slowly to the ground. Starting out again, things were going good, until we found another slope. Thinking I could slow her down, I reached down from my bike, riding beside her and grabbed her handlebars. The next thing I knew, I was going headlong over my handlebars. I was on the ground briefly, but managed to stop her before she crashed into my bike. Scratched and slightly bruised – only I was injured – we continued to our destination.
So despite the rain, the accidents and the alternate destination, a great time was had by all. Also during the weekend, we visited the nearby Wolf Center and the Bear Center, along with a visit to a nearby waterfall. We also made a couple visits to an ice cream shop.
Comments
Post a Comment