Mountain Man Bonding

Scott has been insanely busy. His thesis defense is set for June 10; the clock is ticking, and he is feeling it. He's been working long hours in the lab, so he needed a little break for his brain. Scott's dad was in town and that gave him the extra push to take a weekend off. We went to the White Mountains in New Hampshire for a night of camping last weekend. Scott brought two friends with him and Bruce brought a buddy along too. On Friday night, we set up camp, talked, ate chili, and went to bed. Bruce got cold in his sleeping bag, so I tucked him into mine. We just barely fit; I slept on my side and struggled to zip us in. We at least got a few hours of sleep.
Despite a clear weather forecast, it rained for about a half-hour in the morning - just enough to soak our tents. We let them dry out a bit before packing them up. Even though all the wood was wet, Grandpa Bruce built a small fire and we roasted marshmallows. We also made pancakes over the stove, but then our propane ran out or got cold or something. Pretty much everyone else got pancakes except for me, which was too bad since that's all I wanted out of the camping trip. Knowing this, Grandpa Bruce coaxed that tiny fire into cooking a few pancakes for me. They were delicious; it made my whole day!
Scott and his friends packed up their gear and headed to Mount Washington. They hiked up the mountain and skied down, which took all day. While they went on that adventure, the rest of us packed up the camp and went for a short hike.
This is Bruce's friend with a marshmallow stuck to his fingers. That's all he wanted out of the camping trip.
After our hike, we headed to a river. It was sandy in some spots and rocky in other spots, and by then the sun had come up and warmed the temperature up to the 80s. It was perfect! Grandpa relaxed, I took pictures, and the boys played endlessly.
I'm pretty sure they could have stayed here all day. They ran around barefoot with their jeans rolled up. They built sandcastles, threw rocks into the river, climbed up boulders.


By the time we left, they were completely covered in sand. They ate sandwiches and fruit in the car and we drove to "Old McDonald's" (that's what Bruce calls the fast-food joint, and if it has a playground he calls it "Joyce's Old McDonald's" but that's a story for another day) and got french fries, courtesy of Grandpa. When we headed home, they both zonked out in the back seat for a couple hours. All in all, we had a great time. I got my pancakes. Grandpa Bruce got his campfire and marshmallow. Bruce got to run without me yelling about our sleeping neighbor downstairs. And Scott got a break!