Sound the trumpets!

Taking the Jr. Ranger pledge

I have a proclamation to make: I am the mother of National Park Service Junior Rangers.

We have just returned from the first successful camping trip of our lives as parents, one which followed a disappointing series of botched outings with our miserable, tent-wetting, quarrelsome, sulky, mosquito-bitten offspring. They have transformed: the last three days have been passed in the company of charming, respectful, joyful and joy-inspiring adventurers. They enjoyed and admired every baby chipmunk, every old-growth cedar, every blooming wildflower and every soaring osprey. They had a great time, and so did we.

Small dog, big tree

Clover, intrepid outdoorsdog, came along too. I missed the goats and Fenway terribly, and have put in my request to find a livestock campground for next summer, but we survived without them. I can't say I missed the bunnies, the chickens, the cats, or Paisley—as much as I love him, the latter would have had a miserable time in the forest. He is simply too anxious for adventure. 

Please don't tell everyone, but I will tell you—the North Cascades National Park is wonderful. I am proud to say that we vacationed in a remote portion of our very own Whatcom County. This region is spectacular, and I am further convinced that there is no place more beautiful. I'm lucky to live here. It's about 60 miles from my doorstep to Colonial Peak (pictured) and every inch of it is beautiful. 

M

yours truly at the Diablo Lake Overlook

Mr. Puddle Run

Colonial peak.
Beneath the mountain, on the left side of the photo,
you can see the beach and the forest in which we camped.