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| Some Trips Are Less Fun Than You Envision |
OK, when discussing this trip, I have to pull back into the earlier recesses of my memory. I may not have all the facts straight, but I wanted to share this Patrick McManus style story from my youth.
Not far from where I grew up, there is a 30 mile long mountain range with peaks above 8000 feet and many mountain lakes with rainbow trout. On one end of the range is a rough dirt road with a pass at 7500 feet. From there, there is a trail that goes along the ridgetop a distance of 35 miles until it ends up at a developed lake with a ski resort, paved roads, and too many tourists.
It all started during the summer between 2nd and 3rd grade. My dad wanted to take us boys on a hiking trip. This was a rare occasion for us because ever since we bought the milk-cows when I was in kindergarten, my dad had to milk every morning and evening. However, on this special occasion, by dad talked my mom and sister into milking the cows and feeding the calves while us boys went to play.
At the time, we didn't have any four wheel drive pickup, but the next best was this 1-1/2 ton 1950's vintage cattle truck with wood racks that my dad had. We scrounged around to find backpacks and pile into the truck.
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