want to come with us next year?

I was looking at Blake's hair the other day and noticed that his sun-bleached hair has grown out and left him with some roots that could really use a touch-up. So if any of you could recommend a good hair stylist....

As I sat mesmerized by his fading towheaded locks, I was remembering our summer and how it's already the end of the second week of December and how much I loved our summer break and everything we did. And then, from the recesses of my mind stirred the memory of our Ozette trip.

You've read about my undying, passionate love for that place and you may have noticed that I wrote nary a post about our last camp trip out there this past August. I think now that enough time has past, I can type about it without relapsing into a coma of nightmares again.

It was to be the perfect trip back to that holy land, the weather reports looked promising, in the high 60's, partly sunny. My newly pregnant body seemed to be over the nasty Himalayan mountain of all day sickness. It was going to be perfect.

Now think of the opposite of perfect. That was the trip.

Let me walk you through what we had to endure:

This was us at the trail head. All smiley and happy. If you can read the sign, it says 3.1 miles to Cape Alava. That gets you to the beach. The celestial camp spot by a clear running stream is another mile up and around the beach.

This was the beginning of what would end up feeling like a death march.


Beautiful posing on my part, but I really wanted to show you what was upon my back. That's my pack with Cade sitting so lovely in munching on trail mix. But before you feel bad for me, Aaron's was twice as big and heavy.
At this point we're about halfway to the beach and I wanted to abandon my kids right then and there. Blake refused to walk faster than a snail stuck on molasses. Corgan forgot what talking without whining was like and actually, Lily was the model of a perfect little camper. She just tra-la-la-ed the whole trip.



Here's our "high 60's, partly sunny" weather.



Cade keeping the hatchet safe from the other kids.



This was day two. At this point, Lily, Blake, Cade and myself were running over 100 degree temperatures. If we had access to eggs, we could have used our foreheads to fry them on. They slept the entire day away. I think they woke-up around 7:30, and by 10a.m., they were all passed out until I made them wake-up at 2 for some lunch, which they didn't eat. And then they were out until 5. Nibbled like mice on dinner, then back to bed around 8p.m.

My body felt worse than after running the marathon. Every muscle, bone and marrow of my bones ached. I had joined the kids for two hours in the tent of misery that afternoon.

Oh, and yes, that was the only tent we all were sleeping in. A 3-man tent that all six of us shared for three nights.



Filtering water was a favorite thing to do to pass the time.



My Life-for-life, non-Eagle Scout husband built this using items he found on the beach. My little heart swells with pride knowing that he can accomplish such things.



We were supposed to camp there for four nights, but with the three younger ones running fevers, my body had starting to reject anything I tried to put in it; water was even brought back up in a projectile sort of way. We decided that we should pack up and head on home before dehydration set in. We're smart like that.

Corgan's face says it all....he knows how much further we have to walk before we finally reach the van and drive the 4 hours back to the Grandparents home. It was a long day.



The Makah Indian Tribe has a shack set-up where people can leave little treasures they find. This for example, is a whale bone that Aaron and I found while we were on our honeymoon back in 2001. We of course had carved into it marking it as ours.



That poor seal had been left behind by the outgoing tide and all he could do was wait for the water to return.



Not all of the trip was the opposite of perfect. And to mash-up a phrase, "A bad day at Ozette is better than a good day anywhere else."

I'd do it again tomorrow.