In honor of my dad's birthday today, I thought I'd just share a favorite memory of my dad from my childhood. Technically I think I was 19, and not really a child any more, but that was half a lifetime ago, and before I had children of my own, so I'm counting it as part of my childhood. My dad has always big on outdoorsy stuff. Huge, really. Still is. Camping, backpacking, hiking, mountain biking, canyoneering, white water rafting, skiing (that's how he spent his day today). (I would not be surprised if he lives to see a hundred, and still manages to die while doing something he loves like falling off a mountain or something) I'll be honest, most of the trips he goes on sound less than fun to me, and so I didn't tag along on most of his adventures. But one year, there was an extra spot on a river rafting trip down the Hell's Canyon section of the Snake river and somehow I was the lucky one to go. Just me and my dad. And one of my dad's friends and a bunch of strangers.
It was so fun. Three days of 100+ degree heat, floating down a refreshingly cool river. For safety, my dad gave me a pretty scary looking knife (I think it was like 6 inches) to carry with me, you know, just in case I fell out of the raft during some pretty wild rapids and got stuck in a rope or something. I think I carried that thing with me night and day, even when there was no chance of drowning. I thought it was a pretty cool knife.
It was so fun. Three days of 100+ degree heat, floating down a refreshingly cool river. For safety, my dad gave me a pretty scary looking knife (I think it was like 6 inches) to carry with me, you know, just in case I fell out of the raft during some pretty wild rapids and got stuck in a rope or something. I think I carried that thing with me night and day, even when there was no chance of drowning. I thought it was a pretty cool knife. When my dad gave me that ginormous file of over 1800 pictures for Christmas this past year, I asked him about the picture of me sleeping on a beach. I couldn't remember ever sleeping on a beach. His comment was something to the effect of "That was from our river trip. Don't you remember the butt holes?" Of course, as soon as he said it, a memory was jogged, and I had to laugh because how could I forget that? It's not as crude as it sounds, by the way. Our sleeping arrangements literally consisted of digging holes in the sand for our butts and sorta shaping it into a recliner, then lining with our foam pads for comfort. I don't think I have EVER slept so well on the ground before or since. 
Anyways, I think that's got to be my favorite memory of spending time with my dad. Besides being a ridiculously fun trip, it was also nice cause it was just the two of us.
1 comment:
I love your retro photos. Those were some great plaid pants your dad had. I keep thinking that we need to start camping so our kids can have fun memories to look back on.
Post a Comment