Wild River 2018
Another year, another annual dad/kids fall camping trip. There’s not a lot I can say that hasn’t been said before (see: 2015, 2016), because unlike most things in life, this tradition has remained solidly unchanged, with the exception of new and welcomed additions in the form of fiancés and husbands, with the next generation of little campers soon to come. The same tree tunnel, the same Saturday walk, the same outhouse, prairie, stew on Friday, chili on Saturday, dad jokes, conversation around the fire come rain or shine. Oh, and okay, one more addition: lawn games, played amongst the tents, with the hockey game being announced on the radio in the background. This year was especially nippy, and especially colorful. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: I’m so grateful for traditions like this, and the people that live inside them.