Lilly has always either worked or just opted for the sane choice and slept a couple of extra hours. Something in her must have broken because she agreed to adventure with us this time.

The weather was sketch, as is sometimes the case in May, but going east of the mountains offered at least a hope of sun. That meant an hour and a half in the car. (You'll see why this is important later.)

At the trailhead, Lilly had second thoughts. I politely informed her it was far too late. She was committed. We started up the trail with the two kids chattering as only teenagers (or nearly teenagers) can and Tinkham dashing all around sniffing and exploring. (You'll see why this is important later.)

We counted switchbacks and creek crossings until we made the ridge and it was clear where we were headed. There was only one possible destination and it was waaaaaaaay over there. Big views all around and easy walking. Quite nice.

The summit itself was a rocky nub. Nothing super special, but new to all of us. I performed some SCIENCE! while the kids and Tink snacked. The wind began to blow and the blue sky we'd climbed under was blocked by a dark cloud that foretold a wet hike down. We didn't even have time to get our coats fully on before the sleet started.

We didn't dilly or dally.

Tink, however, continued her quest for whatever she was questing. (It feels like I need another "for" in that last sentence, but you get the idea.) All at once she took off down the steep hill to a pile of brush that had been deposited by a small avalanche. She popped out with a big stick in her mouth. Big surprise, right? She's a lab and she likes sticks.

🤢 EXCEPT IT WASN'T A STICK! IT WAS A LEG COMPLETE WITH HOOF AND HAIR! 🤮

She proudly showed her trophy to us. I was the lucky one that had to remove it from her mouth. Forcibly. She did not want to give it up. I kicked it back down the hill and held her collar as we marched down the trail away from the elk's resting place. So gross.

And the rain continued. By this time we were so wet we didn't bother trying to stay dry crossing creeks. Splish splash my shoes are already soaked so why do I care?

Back at the car I happily changed into my comfy cozies (warm, dry clothes for the ride home) while the kids looked on sourly. "I told you to bring comfy cozies." "I know." You can lead a kid up a mountain, but you can't make them bring extra clothes.

45 minutes later we were at the store to get lunch. HOS was passed out in the back and Lilly was loathe to put her shoes back on. However, she braved the cold and was rewarded with chicken tenders, mac n cheese, and drinks.

So the morals of the story are to bring a pair of disposable gloves so when your dingus dog picks up something gross you don't have to touch it yourself and to be ready with your I-told-you-so lines for when your kids don't listen to you.

📍 On the lands of the Wenatchi people.