One of my favorite things to do is sharing my passions and loves with my loved ones. Given I've been raising my kids to be backpackers for the last 12 years, it should come as no surprise I especially love showing them my favorite places in the mountains. Each spring, I wait and wait (and sometimes wait until summer) for the snow to melt enough to open the high country. This year it was mid May (an average opening date) when the boy and I could finally take Tinkham up the maze of Forest Service roads and as close as we could get to the trailhead before snow stopped us.
The snow was pretty thin down low and around the creeks we had to cross, but as we climbed the steep slopes it got deeper and deeper. By the time we reached the lake we stood atop consolidated snow measured in feet. Before us lay the frozen surface of the lake beneath all that snow. I ventured out onto the surface and jumped up and down a few times to ensure it was solid. After that, Tink and Henry were let loose to explore (within reason).
I knew I'd be stoked to be on the lake under the blue skies with craggy mountains all around. It was pretty much assured Tinkham would have a blast since she had so much fun on our last outing in the snow. The boy is always a wild card because... well... he's 12. I needn't have worried. He gamely strapped on snowshoes and chased after the dog. The only times he gave me a sour look was when I told him not to get so far from me and when I refused to give him my sunglasses. (Yes, he forgot his even after being reminded. And yes, I did eventually relent and his eyes were protected.)
Although I'd have gladly stayed all day, we have lives outside the wilds so we headed back. As the snowpack shrank under our feet I got bummed that the day was over.
When we got back home, Henry told the rest of the family how wonderful and awesome it was to walk on a snow-covered lake. Suddenly, I was back at the lake and walking on water again. And that's why I love sharing my favorite places with the kids.
