Playing Hooky

My daughter, Abby, and I scurried around to get the chores done before heading up to our favorite trailhead for dinner with great friends.

We had been working steadily, without as much fun or company as most summers, so I was ready to laugh, eat good food and listen to creative music.

Most of the crowd planned make a weekend of the party and ride into the Bob Marshall Wilderness for a couple of days, but Abby and I would get back to the ranch, the fences and the hay that needed to be stacked.

Only, we didn’t.

My friend, Colleen, played dirty.

She twisted my arm.

Well, maybe she twisted my pinky.

For sure, her whisper into my ear twisted my mind into gear.

I found all kinds of arguments to justify a short horseback ride.

Abby and I hurled home through the darkness by 11 p.m.

I got up early to throw sleeping bags, a tent and various necessities into a pack. We had the horses saddled and were back at the trailhead by 9 a.m.

My hat blew off twice on the ride in. After that, I carried it in hand. My forehead hasn’t seen that much sun in 30 years. Now, it glows a nice, bright pink.

As we pulled in to camp, I struggled to capture the mountain feeling in words.

The scent of the pines, the silence, the long conversations that come when time disappears, the nuzzle from a horse who knows he is a partner in this adventure – it adds up to magic.

On the ride out the next day, Abby chatted nonstop.

I couldn’t help but think about a hike from years ago, when my son was 9 and Abby was on my back. I learned more about Pokemon on that 10-mile hike than I thought possible.

Chatty kids are happy kids.

Abby and I spend a lot of time outside, but not much time playing outside.

So we dumped the panniers in the kitchen, took care of the sheep and cattle, and planned for our next adventure: Kayaking.

The wind whipped around us and the thermometer said 73 degrees so we chose a small lake at the base of the mountains. My friend, Mary, has both a single and a double kayak so Abby paddled around solo while Mary and I had a chance to catch up.

As we slid into a little cove, we spotted five turtles sunning themselves on a partially-submerged log.

Nobody spotlights turtles in this land of wheat and beef, especially in a small lake swarming with carousing kids.

I needed a photo, but I had left my phone in the truck, nervous about getting it wet.

The photo opportunity eclipsed the risk so we paddled back.

While we were at it, we loaded the dog into the kayak.

This is the same dog who jerks at the leash so hard that she pulls me when I call the sheep.

And she is the same dog who loves water so much that she splashes in from six feet away.

I was pretty sure she would bail out into the lake.

Grace sat stock still, loving every moment, for the next 30 minutes.

She didn’t even move when we glided close to the turtles and watched them slide into the water.

Maybe she needed to stretch her routine, too.

High school volleyball practice starts next week. Once again, our lives will become a balancing act of hauling hay from the field, finishing projects before the snow flies and trips to town for sports.

Our three days of hooky became our blowout summer finale.

I hope you get a summer finale, too.