After a summer of procrastinating climbing Badger Mountain, we finally got around to it earlier this month.
We had every excuse in the book to this point… it is too hot, we don’t have time…
But we finally packed up a small backpack, put our daughter in her Kelty carrier, good shoes on our son and drove to the trailhead.
We huffed and puffed our way through the first half the distance up, wondering if our son’s whining was a sign we should just turn around.
Amazingly enough about the point where we were ready to throw in the towel out of sheer frustration from listening to incessant whining, out of the mist appeared six familiar figures. Familiar figures sitting on the side of the trail eating goldfish crackers and drinking hot cocoa.
Apparently some of our friends had also decided to make the jaunt up the hill with their kids -- also my son’s age.
Suddenly, everyone was rejuvenated. Bellies were filled with Goldfish crackers, my son saw reason to continue to the top, my daughter woke up, and I didn’t have to worry about her head bobbling around uncomfortably in the pack.
About two hours from base to top and back down for us -- four adults, six children and two dogs.
Given it was my family’s first time, and I spent nearly the first 45 minutes practically pulling 45 pounds of boy behind me, we were happy with our time.
We were impressed with the views that are unparalleled in the area. Then, we hurried down with some hopes of making it home in time for naptime.
The next day, I pointed to the towers on Badger to my son and reminded him that just yesterday he was standing next to those.
“Wow,” he said, “I want to do it again!”