A Romantic Weekend for…. Four?

It was perfect.

Just me and my man…

… and Simba Roo and Mad Max.

We hiked up Barr Trail (7 miles) on Friday and set up camp halfway up Pikes Peak. We almost left the dogs at home, but the sheer joy of a worn-out Max too exhausted to jump or bark or nip changed our minds.

We arrived at Barr camp around 3, set up our tent and then found a small outcropping of rocks with a view of the peak. We nibbled on some snacks and toasted our six years of marriage. Six years of companionship. Six years of laughter. Six years of ups and downs to rival any 25-year run.

We kissed.

Kissed again.

Max and Simba pretended to spot a squirrel.

We ate some dinner and climbed into our tent. As much as we’d made eyes at each other during our snack time, we were limited in any further adventures.

After all, the children were right there with us.

The next day dawned with a whole different anniversary to think about.  Just two years ago, on July 2^nd, we lost my dad in a tragic drowning. I traced over those events in my mind as Brian and I hiked to the bottomless pit. A nine mile hike round-trip, it gave me plenty of time to think and reflect on the day, and on my father.

I thought back to when I was just a little thing and my dad took me backpacking. I remember complaining every few minutes. “Can we take a break now?” “It’s really hot.” “I think a snake just bit me, I should probably rest.”

He was so good. “Sure,” he’d say. Or “How about a few more steps? I bet you can make it to that rock.”

I think my dad would have been proud of me on Saturday. I not only made it to a rock, I climbed up a few, shimmied over another and scrambled around several more.

And I know he would have loved the view.

Awed and weary, we spent some time resting and then headed back. By the time we made it to camp, we ate dinner and fell asleep with the sun.

Yesterday, the caretakers at Barr Camp encouraged us to check out Ad-a-man Rock. It was amazing. Off in the woods, it was a large rock set on a massive cliff. We scrambled to the top to see the incredible view. I was totally wrapped in the moment until those dogs ran around to play… every time they went close to the edge, I barked out mama words.

“Not so close!”

“I mean it, you two.”

“Max! Simba! Back up or it’s not going to be pretty.”

They happily stood at the edge and grinned at me over their shoulders.

Rotten dogs.

We climbed down and walked a bit more before returning to camp to pack up and head home.

So here I sit today, pleasantly worn out after traversing 27 miles with my husband. I’m finally clean (I could have planted flowers in the dirt left behind in the tub yesterday) and I’m sitting on my front porch. The American flag is flying and children are playing on our street.

I celebrate another anniversary today: Independence Day.

I find myself grateful for a country that contains such majestic beauty, such marvelous freedoms and such lovely people.

So yes, we packed it in this weekend. Deep joy, longing sadness and fierce pride – and as I wrap up the day, and I think of sharing this time with you, I am grateful for friends who care enough to read the stories of my world, who share in the joys and the sorrows – because you get it. The richness of joy, the depth of sorrow.

Friends, I pray your weekend carried more joy than pain and more love than loneliness…. And if not, that our God held you close through it all.

Thanks for sharing the journey.