Keen beginnings: share the love/show the love
My oldest daughter, Hannah aka Beezer, is almost 20 years
old, and I can’t remember a time when she was so thrilled by getting a new pair
of shoes as she was her latest pair;
purple Keen sandals. Maybe it’s because she’s living on her own and has
developed some appreciation for the cost of buying things like shoes.
Let me back up a bit on this latest tale, and set the stage.
Hannah & Erica are the absolute best of buds, and have been so throughout
high school, steering them to moving out
of the house together to St. George to become two of the cutest Dixie Rebels
ever (that’s another story). They are about a month from obtaining their
Associates Degree, then planning on making the big move out of Zion into Sin
City to attend UNLV. Erica’s dad, Albert aka Al and I decided to drive down and
spend a weekend camping with the girls.
Watching those two girls together warms my heart, and simultaneously
freaks me out. They have such a love for each other, and the way both of them
takes care of the other one is astonishing. One morning Al noticed how tenderly
Erica went into the tent, knelt down and started rubbing Hannah’s back. I know
what you’re thinking…and why wouldn’t you, it’s not like we all haven’t. But if
you knew these two, you would know how much they wish they were gay.
The rough plan is to continue the quest for trout in the slot
canyon of the East Fork of the Virgin. We’re also thinking of investigating up
hwy 89 past Orderville into the small town of Hatch or maybe as far as Panguich.
When we get to Mt. Carmel maybe we will call “Little Dick” a local guide to see
if he can shed some light on fishing in the East Fork slot canyons.
But all great adventures need to begin with some shopping,
and apparently both girls have been Jonesing for a pair of Teva’s for years—(no Teva’s aren’t
Lezbo.) I actually came prepared with a pair for Hannah from her mom, worn
maybe once. So we’ll swing by Dick’s Sports and get Erica all decked out with a
styling pair. I don’t even know why I would say that, we all know we will be
getting a pair for both Erica and Hannah. They picked two different shades of
purple. The new shoe buzz lasted the entire trip; I don’t think 30 minutes went
by that they were not saying something about the love of the new shoes—no
complaints from us dads; it’s nice to see them so happy. Share the love; show
the love, even if it’s for new shoes.
Once you get out of Zion’s Canyon on HWY 9 you hit Mt.
Carmel, travel south and you are heading toward Arizona, Lake Powell, The
Colorado River and Pink Coral Sand Dunes State Park. The pics do not do that
sand justice. It’s not just the stunning color; it’s also the finest sand I
have ever felt. All of us were compelled
to fun fingers and toes through it over and over; the girls would not stop and
kept poking at it over and over in their own little way. According to the
little brochure it is the product of a wind vortex that has been working for millions
of years to create the amazing Pink Coral Sand Dunes.
The girls were not very interested in fishing, but wow I
have to vote Al the rookie fly fisherman of the year. He said it was the first
time he has ever fly fished, but honestly I’m inclined to believe he’s wielded
a fly rod before. I was baffled at how good he could cast. We worked up a
section of Duck Creek right below the reservoir. Fish were feeding off the top
and I thought it would be appropriate to tie on a Fat Albert for Albert. To his
left was a mess of branches, to his right was a bank of weeds. He needed to get
the fly up river about 20 to 30 feet without disturbing the water too much. The
wind was blowing a bit, which makes it hard to cast no matter how good you are.
It took a few casts, but he laid his Fat Albert right in the zone. It drifted
down about 10 feet and wham! He set the hook perfect. It is so much fun seeing
a grown man have that much fun catching a fish.
We drove on to the booming metropolis of Hatch, which thank
God had a little place to eat lunch—good soup. The Sevier River runs right
through town and we worked it for a maybe about an hour. It was a bit colder
than we hoped for, and I think it sort of drove the girls away from fishing.
But the trip was not about fishing, it was about an adventure together. So we
decided to head back to The Barracks and check out an area that Erica likes,
and see what the East Fork of the Virgin looks like. I do not think the East
Fork slot canyons exist…but the group decided not to call “Little Dick” to see
what light he could shed on the topic.
We found a really cool cave on the way to The Barracks, it
was great exploring through it—see pics. We spent a little too much time just
sort of driving and walking around and the sun slipped low into the red rock. I
wanted to get back to camp before it got too dark, to make Hobo dinners—tough
to do in the dark. We made a smashing team, with Al and Erica on fire duty, and
Beezer & I cooking we rocked the camp.
Sitting by the fire, watching their faces, seeing the
relaxation, feeling the love, sharing the love, it’s impossible to top that.
Watching my big kid move into adulthood, and seeing the woman she has grown
into, I am proud to be her father. I can sit at the fire, a fat contented cat
and enjoy being with her. You are required to love your children, but not like
them; I really like this girl! I see Al’s face and it says exactly the same
thing. Further, I want to think that the girls tranquil calm faces is a mirror
of some of the same feelings toward their dads—share the love show the love.
Packing up camp Sunday morning we all agree this should not
be the end of our father/daughter outings; but rather this should be the first
of an annual trip. I am all about annual trips; I do it with fly fishing
buddies, all the more reason to do it with your kid. Here’s to 2013 being the
first of a long line of the “Daddy/Daughter annual adventure.
