Tuesday, August 10, 2010

The Swimmin' Hole, a Near Tragedy, and Foul Mouthed Neighbors

It was about 4:00 in the afternoon by this time, and I knew we didn't have a whole long time before sunset and a cool down.  It was around 80 degrees in the valley, as opposed to the 55 degrees in the mid-day heat up on the mountain.

Mark and the kids got right in the cold water the moment we reached the spot Cassie had in mind.  I had put on my quick dry shorts and a quick dry shirt thinking I might want to jump in myself.  And it wasn't more than a few minutes before I started in. 

I threw my shirt on the ground, and so as not to lose my wedding ring in the cold water, tossed it on my shirt.  Got up past my knees and did the only sensible thing ... made a shallow dive from there to get the shock of the cold water over with.   A few more dives and swishing around and I was done.  I got back out and put my shirt back on and plinked on the guitar while Mark and the kids swam, and occasionally took pictures of them.  Mark got out and took a few shots of me playing the backpacker.  Then we all went back in for another dip.

As we were getting ready to leave and I put my watch back on, I noticed I was missing something.  

My ring.

I couldn't remember putting it back on after getting out the first time.  But I put my shirt back on.  Which means I had forgotten my ring was there and it got tossed aside into the grass, OR I HAD put it back on and lost it in the cold water (your fingers shrink in cold water!  I've lost one that way before at Jacks Fork!). 

For evidence of what probably happened, I went back to the camera at the pictures Mark took of me playing the guitar to see if I had the ring on then.

I didn't.

That meant it was likely in the grass.

I was about ready to give up on it, but Mark and the kids were looking diligently and Mark wasn't giving up.  I was trying to be cavalier about it so as not to put a damper on everyone else's vaction, but inside I was a little panicked and seriously bummed .  Just as I thought all was lost I felt something under the ball of my right foot.  Underneath it, pressed into the mud, was my ring.


Mark thought we should all go into town and celebrate with a dinner, but by the time we got back to the campsite we were both in a more frugal mood and dug into the food-a-plenty we had brought with us ... opting for a trip into town for ice cream afterward.  Mark's treat (thanks, Mark!).  It was very good ice cream.  We also stopped at a kind of cool, kookie Nepali-Paki-Indian store where Mark picked up a cool dress for Cami, and I called Vicki from the balcony of the store.

Then it was back to camp and for a run-in with our new neighbors -- a group of late teen-ish underwear showin', skinny jean wearin', "pants on the ground", foul-mouthed, giggly a**ed, pot smokin' emo-ish ... boys ... who were annoying to say the least. On the other side, Mark said we had people who stayed up late into the night talking about dog breeding.

Thankfully, my "sleep music" on my MP3 player drowns just about everything out. Unfortunately, that also means no sounds of wind in the trees and splashing mountain streams. But no snoring or giggly, inconsiderate pot smoking teenagers, either. Seriously, next time, kids -- go smoke in some National Forest campsite in a remote site where you won't bother people - especially people with kids.

Next time, reservations at Moraine Park. And a walk-in.

This was the Groves' las night in the park.  They would pack and leave in the morning.  Wow.  That went quick.

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