Up the Canyon with the Coakley’s

Went up the canyon last night for hobo dinners. There’s nothing like absolutely separating yourself from everything familiar. The roads get smaller, the cars scarcer, the sky cleaner. It’s romantic.

Our campfire spot sat at the edge of a river. On the other side of the river was an old stone shack, easily 100 years old. Well, you know me. If there’s something I probably shouldn’t do, I’m right in the middle of it. I found a huge pipe going from one end of the river to another, blocked off from public access by a fence. After crossing the fence, I used the pipe as a bridge to get to the abandoned shack. Scott only spied me when I was half-way across the river. He came running after me, but there’s not much you can do when your girl’s smack-dab in the middle of the river.

So we went to the shack together. Not much to see, just a bunch of beer cans and some old dam equipment. Then we came back. But it was the mini-adventure I crave.

Later, during dinner, We saw three deer …or bucks… or elk… or something nature-ly. They were right across the river from us.

We enjoyed the traditional s’mores, card games, frisbee, etc. I need more of that. I hope we can go up again soon.