Stewart Falls

The summer is fast drawing to a close as school starts on August 19th.  That feels really early to me.  We made a list of things to do this summer, and we have needed to cross several of them off the list.  Hiking to Stewart Falls made the list again, but I haven't loved the thought of dragging the children on the hike again.  They did really well when we went last year, and they did great hiking to the Y this year, but I really wanted to hike from the Sundance side of the falls, rather than all the way from Aspen Grove.  

We got lucky!  My friend Heather's parents have a cabin up behind Sundance, and Heather has the code to the gate that gets you through to the trailhead.  So today Grandma Sue came over, we punched in the code at the gate, and we were able to shorten the hike considerably.  Instead of taking nearly an hour, it took us about 20 minutes.  A good portion of the trail was shaded by trees, it wasn't too steep, and I think we only stopped for a drink of water once.  It was just the right amount of time for the kids to be happy and enjoy it and not whine at all.  There was a slight breeze, too, so although we were hiking in the middle of the day--we got there around 1pm--it wasn't too hot.  And the water was cold, of course.

We had a great time, tromped across the stream formed by the falls, and got wet.  Blythe wanted to go under the falls from one side to the other, but only until I pointed out that the only was to go from one side to the other was through the falls, and then she quickly didn't want to do that.  Brandt wanted to hike up higher, but we wouldn't let him as it looked incredibly dangerous.  

On the way back to the car from the falls, we somehow took a wrong turn.  Grandma Sue and I were in the rear with Blythe, while Kent and Brandt were leading on, and after we'd gone a short distance and began having to really bend over to go under low hanging branches, I commented that I didn't remember the trail being quite so overgrown as we had come up.  Kent tried to reassure me, but Sue and I quickly became convinced we were not on the trail.  We weren't.  We were almost crawling along under  shrubbery, crawling over small fallen trees, and feeling very much like deer on a deer trail.  The trail eventually led to the stream running down from the falls, not really anywhere close to the trail.  Funnily enough, there was another family right behind us.  I am almost absolutely convinced that we let them astray, but they assured us it wasn't our fault.  Kent had to forge a path through brush and trees, heading always in the general direction of the trail, and eventually we broke through and found it, but not before everyone was stung by stinging nettle and scraped on some part of their bodies.  It was an adventure.

Come join us for the next one.

Falls in the distance

Happy hikers, though you would never know it.

 

 

We weren't the only ones braving the heat and hiking.

 

Both Brandt and Blythe wanted wet hats to keep their heads cool.

Here is Kent, forging a trail.

Literally.

This is what we were "hiking" through.

We were like little deer. 

Pioneer Day

This morning, after sleeping in the tent last night, we had our annual Primary Pioneer Day Parade and Pancake Breakfast.  Say that three times fast.  Bet ya can't!  Blythe wanted to wear the same thing she wore last year, but I didn't take the time to look at last year's blog entry to see what she actually had on, but we approximated, giving her an apron and a basket to carry.  She was insistent on the basket because she was convinced there were going to be lots of people watching the parade and throwing candy at the paraders.  I tried to tell her that we could just put the candy in pockets, but she didn't believe me.

We did not have nearly as many marchers this year as last.  I think lots of people were out of town, and some might have forgotten.  We had very few watchers too; there were less than ten people cheering us on.  As a neighborhood, we haven't quite embraced that part of the activity.  We have marchers, we have breakfast, we have no observers.  It doesn't seem to dampen spirits, however.

We had a lovely breakfast prepared by the high priests.  Kent said they were incredibly well organized, food prep went smoothly, and apart from having Tang to drink instead of actual orange juice, it was all very tasty.  I didn't think people actually drank Tang.  Blythe rejected it wholesale, taking one sip and deeming it "disgusting."  Too true.  

Let's see if I can name everyone.

Back row: Halle Bensen, Hannah Bensen, I'm not sure, three granddaughters of someone, Abbie Drake in the pink headscarf, Susie Clark, Blythe, Brandt, Cole Currey and Jack George wearing matching bandanas, Steven Benavides holding the flag, McKenna Currey just recently recovered from rheumatic fever, Gavin Drake all bear chested being Native American-ish, and Madilyn George.

Front row shorties: Paul and Bryce Moreland, Quentin Drake, Faith Currey, Asher and Evan Runia.

A fine looking crew all the way around.

When we got into Normandy Village, Brother Thomsen was there offering kids rids in his replica old car.  Brandt and Blythe both thought it was fantastic.  There was also this funny little plane that Brandt wanted to slide into, but he was too big.  

The small, pathetic candy "haul."

I knew it would all fit in her pocket.

A neighbor let me borrow this apron and bonnet.  

Don't I look authentic?

Just like someone ready to walk and walk and walk.

In her flipflops.

And while we walked, Kent cooked food.

Then he served it to us all.

Mmmmmm.  Bacon!

After our morning festivities, we went down to North Park for the annual Pioneer Day activites.  The pioneer village is open, there are booths with all sorts of exciting things you can make and do, and lots of vendors and displays.  Blythe wanted her face painted--check!--and both children wanted us to buy them a cheaply made but very expensive toy.  That didn't happen.  We listened to live performers, had a snow cone, walked through a maze and played a cow pie (fortunately made of cardboard) gathering game, walked through the village and bought a sucker, than called it good.

Authentic Indian warpaint

Listening to the live music.

On the way home, as we neared our house, we saw a very large, very low flying helicopter that swooped up the mountain and dumped water on a wispy smoked fire.  It was a tanker helicopter that looked like a weird sort of ginormous bug.  We followed it up to Rock Canyon Park, just up the hill from our house, and watched as it flew and hovered to suck up water from a large inflatable pool and then go up to dump the water on the fire.  It was very exciting because the helicopter came right down over our heads.  It was loud and created such a strong wind.  It was capable of holding 2500 gallons of water and had the sucker upper hose dangling from below.  It was just cool to watch it and we were there for close to half an hour before it flew off,  likely to refuel.  It must have been effective because the fire, almost certainly caused by a lightning strike as it was so high on the mountain, didn't really spread.

Coming down right on top of us!

"Camping"

One of the activities on our Summer To-Do list was to camp in the backyard.  The children really, really, really love sleeping in a tent, and as Kent doesn't like to do camping at all (AT ALL), I promised the children we could sleep in the tent in the backyard.  They have been pestering me--"When?! When?! Tonight?! Tomorrow?! When?!"--so tonight was the night.  I pitched the tent, we gathered bedding, and both Brandt and Blythe ran wildly around and through the tent, giddy with excitement.  We prepared for bed and then took stories out to read, but still the thrill of sleeping outside in our very own tent was intoxicating.  It took a really, really, really long time for them to calm down and fall asleep, but eventually all was still and quiet in the tent.  

As happens every time I sleep in a tent, the night was long.  It rained during the night and I was reminded of how incredibly loud the rain is as it falls on a tent.  Fortunately I had put the rain fly over the top so we didn't get wet, but Brandt sat up, looked around, and then flopped back down on his pillow.  Blythe woke and demanded I give her her kiki and her stuffed rabbit, both of which were right next to her.  I told her they were there, but she didn't believe me and tried to climb over me to get them out of the opposite corner.  She had to be wrestled back to her side of the tent.  The birds were very chirpy as the sky began to lighten, and I was grateful we only had to sleep one night in the tent.  I remarked to Kent that he probably slept very soundly in our bed, alone, without me next to him snuffling, but even he didn't sleep well with us outside as he woke to the rain and worried about us getting wet.  Oh what fun!  Inspite of it all, I am happy the children enjoyed it so much.

Scrub Sprouts Day Camp

As of May-ish, Kent has been Brandt's cub scout leader in the Wolf Den.  Brandt has loved scouts and loved having his dad in charge.  Today they got to attend day camp at Camp Jeremiah Johnson in Hobble Creek Canyon.  To say Brandt loved day camp does not even come close to explaining how terrific he thought it was.  He came back dirty and smelly with a beaded necklace, a rocket, and lots and lots to tell me.  Brandt told me all about shooting bb guns, doing archery, being in a boat, shooting off rockets, using sling shots, having a rain gutter regatta, and a "sword" fight with a swim noodle sword he got to make and bring home.  It was absolutely marvelous.  Brandt talked about it for days afterwards, not just to me but to anyone we encountered.  And the non-stop question since day camp has been, "Mom, when can I have a bb gun of my own?"

Many of the pictures below were taken by Brandt and aren't very good.

Sam Ward

Rain gutter regatta

Grant Jensen, Connor Helquist, Brigham Richards, and Greyson Bushman (behind)

That's our boy in the hat.

Paul Moreland here in the blue shirt straining a bit to pull back the sling shot.

Brandt wants one of those too, but not as much as the bb gun.

It's apparently a primal cub scout scream.

These boys look ferocious.

And here they are a little less scary.  

Our guys are on the front row.

From the left, the first two people I don't know, but starting at Brandt in the hat:

Brandt, three boys I don't know, Teva Mataoa, Connor Helquist, Brigham Richards, Paul Moreland, 

Greyson Bushman, Britton Helquist, and Sam Ward

This is the only picture of Brandt at the bb gun range.

Apparently Kent didn't take very good pictures either.

That's some serious contemplation.