The Hansen Family
(including 5 month pregnant me & unborn baby girl)
and our boat guest, "The Boy"
There is always that anxiety about getting out of town and rafting adds a whole new realm to the gear gathering. There is the eternal list of exclusively rafting goods you need to take with you, in addition to all the hand carry-able comforts that make camping bearable.
The countdown begins (It happens this way every time)
3 weeks: I am really excited and ready to commit to any adventure
1 week: I start to get a little anxious... lots to get done. Not sure I am up for it.
48 hours: I make the announcement I don't want to go anymore. E rolls his eyes and ignores me.
24 hours: I am even more obstinate and angry because E didn't take my threat of not wanting to go seriously. Sometimes some tears, sometimes some silent treatment of the spouse but rarely any progress.
18 hours: I drag my feet but start preparations, knowing my fate is near and I may not be excited about the trip but I will be even less excited when I find out I forgot bug spray and a water bottle.
8 hours: A stressful and unpleasant departure from home. Inevitably we are leaving after work and driving at night to some rural destination with no stores or cell phone coverage. So, I spend the day trying to think of the little things I left behind and what work items I need to close up, in case I die. Not to mention thinking about the filth that may be found in my home if I don't make it back.
(Do you know my dad's favorite laugh line at the end Fiddler on the Roof when Tevye is trying to get Golde to leave and she yells at him, "I don't want to leave a dirty house!"? I never thought it was funny and still don't. Recognizing, of course, that my mom never let house work get in the way of any plans she had, which made her saying this line that much more ironic. I don't want to be a laugh line so I don't want to leave a dirty house)
We get on the road and I have finally settled into my fate. Once we are an hour outside of town I am relieved to be gone. Nothing to be done now but enjoy the journey.
This weekend was no different. We had planned a trip to Jackson Hole months ago and it sounded like a really great idea until 48 hours before we left. Tired, overwhelmed by the thought of sleeping on the ground with my heavy body and swollen belly and unsure if I am going to actually get on the water, it all sounded like too much work to me.
But, I went. E explained to me (as if I were 3) that we had made a commitment and there were people counting on us to be there. We were going. And as it usually goes with me, I am so glad that I did.
What a lovely weekend of crisp nights and hot days in the sun on the beautiful snake river. Good company, lightening storms and a few rousing games of Kubb made for a perfectly lovely weekend.
I was afraid that I wouldn't want to do the rapid section, as my self preservation instincts are in overdrive but when faced with prospect of sitting alone on the shore, I had to get on the boat. I had a grand time and was reminded why I love that stretch of river more than any other.
The moral of the story is this: You should leave town, even if it makes you cry.
