The Oregon Trail

Saturdays are our high days.  Daddy Boy likes takes all the children and run them wild.  They often go to the library and the Discovery Center in the morning followed by a hike in the afternoon and a movie in the evening.  Meanwhile, I grab an iced coffee and hide.  Sometimes though, when I’m feeling gracious, I go with them.

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When I’m feeling gracious *and* it’s not too cold *and* no hills are involved.  The weekend before last we went and walked along the Oregon Trail.  If a horse drawn wagon can make it, reason suggests so can Mommy.

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This is the overlook onto Surprise Valley.

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Boy does lots of work down there and says it always gives him the heebie jeebies.  “Those people are weird.”  You know, as in friendly.  Their houses and lawns are all immaculate.  From the vantage you could hear the happy chatter of children in the community green and catch glimpses of bobbing neon specks running trails in the distance.  No doubt ever diligent soccer moms keeping their figures.

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We don’t live there.  We live next to the Middle East grocery, looming meth billboard, and taco bus.

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But that just means we could take you in a street fight.

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Boy and I were strolling along, hand in hand, when we were like, “Oh yeah.  Where are the children?”

“Children, what children?”

It took us a while to find them, but that was because they were scaling the cliff face.  You couldn’t really see them unless you got down and looked.  Gideon was given up for lost and left to the mercy of search and rescue.

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The children had made swords with Daddy that morning.  It’s all I can do to keep them from taking them in the grocery store.  You can hardly get in our van without impaling yourself.

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Jehu with his “queen.”

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He likes her better than the other baby.  Who only this morning came over and jabbed him with a stick pin.  He has his reasons.

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The boys in a running battle.

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Victory!

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Here you can see the original tracks of the Oregon Trail.

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Later we stopped by the little interpretive center.  The children hopped out of the van in glee.  There is nothing so fun as climbing on rocks.  Except some fool put a no climbing sign on them.  Seriously?  Who does that?  I bet every teacher who unloads a bus of children here has to spend the whole hour yelling, “Get down!  Get down!”

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To which I imagine they all reply, “Oh yeah?  Come get me.”

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