Father-Son Campout 06/15/2012

What can you say about guys camping?  Sometimes I wonder why women kick men out of the house to let them sleep outside and put up with each other.  Sometimes...   

Luke, my dad, and I went to Sage Hen reservoir which is north of Nampa by about 2 1/2 hours.  The drive itself is boring-ish with lots of sage brush to look at until you arrive.  I guess driving is not as boring if you bring one boy + a bag of cherries and mix it up with a little guess work as to where the seeds were spit.  It turns out that, consuming the seeds doesn't mix with the common human stomach.  However!  There is this particular bend in the road where a nice log home is nestled at the base of rolling hills where the residents may eventually harvest what my son sowed into the dirt with extra care.  You should see it someday.          

Ah yes.  Fire.  What captivates curiosity and compliments creativity for a boy quite like fire?  Girls maybe.  Maybe...  Tell me you don't see Pandora's box opened in the picture above.  Girls are no different.  

I would recommend going to Sage Hen.  It is rather beautiful and the view of the reservoir is pretty.  There is so much to see.  But, this adventure gets better.  This picture below is what I have titled, "The Road to Perdition" as Luke learned a big lesson walking it.       

     Whilst I was getting ready to come home and packing things up, Luke went out wandering with a couple of other boys armed with sling shots.  My sling shots.  Like any boy wanting to prove his worth and manliness, naturally, you show your marksman skills by shooting at any moving thing.  As I was packing my tent, Luke approached me with a panicked face and an unsure attitude as to what he did.  "Your son shot a chipmunk and it's got blood coming out it's eye." said the chubby one.  Luke looked at me.  Our eyes met.  Word was not needed as his shamed complexion corroborated the account of the lumber-some lad.  Bambi's woodland friend was wounded and bleeding.  Off we went to find the rodent if it was there still.  But alas, it still was where one boy, not even 6 years of age, stood waiting, watching by the wayside as death drew near.  This little redhead's pale face was blank except a curious glint in his eye when I showed up.
     Just above the road on the bank of the hill, the squirrel remained, blood running down it's right eye.  "We have to kill it."  I said to the three down on the roadway.  The 6 year old kept looking as if to want to see it die the way kids do who haven't experienced death.  There was a mild anticipation and yet anxiety that he expressed.  The chubby one was still,  well... chubby.  And Luke had tears welling.  Lesson learned.
     A quick boot stomp later and "Chip" was gone.  The other two were dismissed and Luke and I walked the read back to camp.  Below is Chip as we shall always remember him.          

 In the end, we had a great time.  Luke and Grandpa got to know each other a little better, long discussions of Pokemon and Napoleon Dynamite were shared round the camp fire, and life became a little more sacred to a young 10 year old.

 Hopefully we can just pass words of wisdom from one generation to another amongst us guys.  Maybe that is why women kick us out of the house.  Nah... they just want to get rid of us for a day.