by Susan Haynes

I have survived the annual family vacation!

It all began at the end of March when my husband exhibited the first signs of spring fever. Far-away gazes and the occasional trail book being left by the recliner, the breakfast table, and the bed characterized this. At this time there was nothing much for me to do except keep a watchful eye over him.

In mid April after Super Outdoor Weekend—a wonderful KTC sponsored event, which I am sure you all attended—symptoms became more pronounced. "You know, after Super Outdoor, vacation isn’t far away!" he exclaimed. Stacks of trail books by the recliner, the breakfast table, and the bed characterized this phase. During this phase, I smiled and offered words of encouragement. He does enjoy this so.

With May came abundant sunshine and blue skies. This was too much for my husband. Simple spring fever quickly escalated into a quest for the perfect backpack trail—not too difficult or too long. (My husband is so thoughtful.) This time was characterized by intent stares and topo maps being added to the stacks of trail books by the recliner, the breakfast table and the bed. At this time my concern was awakened about the final trail choice. I began to anticipate clothing and food needs and other items such as sunscreen and bug repellant. I was ever vigilant.

The first of June heralded the two-week countdown. We were now into earnest vacation preparation. This period was characterized by long distance phone calls to ranger stations and assorted backpack gear being tested and arranged alongside the topo maps and stacks of trail books by the recliner, the breakfast table and the bed. (One can never have too many backpack stoves or tents!)

With one week to countdown, preparation was serious. The popup camper was unearthed and readied. Certainly, one has to have a base of operation. The basement and living room were arrayed with various and sundry gear. (Cabela’s would have been both pleased and envious.) My husband added books on outdoor medicine and survival to the topo maps and stacks of trail books by the recliner, the breakfast table, and the bed. With this period or phase came my increasing uneasiness of the unknown and fear that I would forget to pack some crucial item.

At last THE DAY arrived! We had stowed all gear in the van and hitched up the camper the night before. Our three week odyssey to visit relatives and friends, hike and bike, and backpack had begun. My husband’s face was alight with child-like enthusiasm, taking joy in the open road and anticipating possible encounters with wildlife on the trail. This time was clearly defined by my relief that we were at last on the road and my growing apprehension that we would encounter wildlife. (Remember last year’s bear?) [John’s and Susan’s close encounter of the bear kind during a backpacking trip last year was mentioned in an earlier newsletter.]

To make this epic story short, we camped, we saw friends and relatives, and we conquered trails while hiking and backpacking. We savored the beauty of the wilderness and took comfort in the fact that our bodies did not protest too much at the rigors, through which we put them. My husband was truly in his element. If one believed in reincarnation, one would surely think that he had been a mountain man or an explorer in a previous life. He does enjoy this so.

Three weeks later we were HOME. While my husband was reveling in the pictures afforded him by seven rolls of film, I was tackling a mountain of laundry and trying to assimilate all the vacation stuff back into the household. We rediscovered a decided preference for our own bed.

It was a quest, an odyssey, and an epic—if you believe in my retelling of it). I know that again next March or April my husband will dust off the trail books and once again we will eagerly anticipate our next family vacation. I do enjoy it so!