Since we were already on a mini road trip to our neighboring state to the north, my hubby man declared that he wanted to partake in a family hike at Mt. Rainier National Park on Father's Day. *Sigh* There are a couple things you should know about me. 1) I am a not a hiker. 2) I am married to a hiker. The hiker of all hikers. A backpack loving, hither and yon trekking, strap on a backpack hiker. Going on a family hike every Father's Day has become a ritual, and while I can weasel out of hiking on other occasions, it's really not possible to boag out on Father's Day.
I had held out hope (with some guilt) that we (I) might be spared this annual trek since the weather out at this end of the world has not been summer-like yet. Most folks are somewhat seriously referring to this month as June-uary. As recently as Wednesday, Mt. Rainier was the recipient of some severe winter storms, but on Sunday it was warm with brilliant blue skies and I knew that we'd be heading to the trail head. Super.
Hubby man was so delighted and the offspring (aka little traitors) were excited as well. As our ancient mini van (hold your snickers to a minimum please) creeped and crawled up the curvy mountain side, I realized that alas I had not brought my tennis shoes with me. All I had were my fancy flip-flops and my dress shoes. Oh, dear. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. So, I say to hubby man, "um, I don't think I have the proper shoes for this". This set back does not deter hubby man from his goal. Nope, Nadda, No problem; he'll pick out a nice easy hike. (Sidebar: I've been on his nice easy hikes. Pray for me.)
Along the way to the trail head, we stopped so the kids could pummel each other with snowballs. Yes, SNOW ... something like 6 feet deep.
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