Remembering the Good Times

Emotions are wreaking havoc now that the divorce papers are days away from being final.  I look back to one of our camping trips.  We backpacked into the Upper Buffalo Wilderness Area many years ago, before Eldest Son was conceived.

It was over spring break, and it was warm enough.  Cuddles, Mrs. Translator’s dog, was a very nice little dog, a cockapoo.  She had a wonderful personality, and loved to hike with us.

We parked the car at the place just outside of the wilderness area, and put on our backpacks and hiked into the wilderness.  We went back about five of six miles, and put up camp.  It rained.

It rained the whole time.  Usually it was not too hard, but it rained.  We stayed up there a week, and had to come back after spring break.  We took enough food and shelter, but it rained, and that is not a good camping thing.  It rained, and rained.

I tried to make a chair out of rocks, and if it had been clear, it might have worked.  But the rain lubricated the joints and allowed it to collapse.  After several days, we decided to go home and get out of the rain.

We walked back to Dixon Ford, where we had walked towards the wilderness before.  Usually it is only a foot deep, and cool.  That day it was a raging torrent, over six feet and impossible to cross.

We went up about a mile to where the three creeks converge into one, and crossed each, one at a time.  Our backpacks were held over our heads even there, and we were almost covered with water, but at least we could find the bottom of the three streams with out feet.  We tied Cuddles to a long rope to cross each of them, and reeled her in after each.  She was a little dog, with only six inch legs.

We finally crossed all three creeks and made it back to the car.  We changed clothes and dried Cuddles off a bit, and then went up the very steep grade and went home.

Those are good memories.

Warmest regards,

Doc