CF Adventuring Looks Like ...

Reed Lakes trail a few days ago.

... anyone's Alaskan adventuring, with a few extra health chores.  I get a little nervous when they pack up the ropes, metal spike-y things, and D rings and they get a lot of pleasure in telling me how they're not really going to tell me exactly how it went. It probably has something to do with how dangerously close to death they got. Boys.

While I love to hike and my big girl loves adventure, her breathless chattering of awesomeness usually involves animal sightings and scientific discoveries (And while bears, moose, wolves, and dead things are dangerous, we like big guns so she doesn't think it's life-threatening.)



Two days of this backcountry.

Not so boys. I used to think that Rees was so nuts because of the life-shortening aspect of CF ~ that he wanted to compress as much adventure as possible in his life because who knew when that Sweet Chariot would swing low. With five sons now, I know better. They are nuts, period. They are a pile of running, throwing, jumping dirt that hand me dandelion bouquets and hug me goodbye (sweat and dirt and all). They like crazy stories and they like crazy trips. They also really like baby sisters and their mommies because boys are also wonderful. Ken and I want them to test their mettle in the brain AND brawn department (Hunting is particularly good for both.). Half the reason we have a backyard hobby farm is for them to do gross, demanding chores for the family.



 

Some pass between glaciers they traversed (I'd rather not know the details!)



 I'm glad our CF doctor isn't big on machinery for daily care, so that Rees can toss his hand-held devices into a backpack and do scary things. He does occasionally skip nebulizers, hooking it up in the car, using the battery for power as soon as he gets there (Although the new TOBI podhaler is an exciting hand-held discovery for backcountry, as well.). So off he goes, and off they all go, for dangerous adventures. Sometmes I join them; sometimes I stay home to make cinnamon rolls and good coffee for (most) of the near-death stories.

Today they're all home, though, and I'm glad.

Love, A

(Post #3)