Our Mountain Trek

We took Dane to Boy Scout camp yesterday in the mountains of North Georgia. The other boys went up in two vans driven by the Scout leaders who are spending the week up there. I decided about a week ago that I needed to explain to Dane that we weren't going to take him to Camp this year.

Me: "Son, you know, the boys are all riding together in vans to Camp this year."

Dane: "Well, Mom, seems how I'm going to be away from you for a whole week and I'm going to be there for my birthday and not able to celebrate it at home with you, I'll just ride with you and Dad in our van."

I dropped the topic. Later that night, I discussed it with Don.

Don: "Do you think he understood that you were telling him we weren't going?"

Me: "I dunno. I was trying to break it to him gently. But it sure sounds like he wants us to take him."

Don: "Maybe you ought to try again and, this time, be a little clearer. Tell him that we weren't planning on going."

Me: "But we took him to Camp LAST year!"

Don: "Yes, honey, but that was a 50 minute drive. This is a 3 1/2 hour, one way."

Me: "But if we don't take him, I won't get to see his cabin and the dining hall and look things over good so I understand what he's talking about when he tells us all about Camp."

Don: "You DO realize that it's Pentecost Sunday, don't you. If we take him to Camp, we'll miss Pentecost. Try again to explain to him that we didn't plan on taking him."

So, the next day (does this smack of "Little Bunny Foo-Foo?) . . .

Me: "Dane, Son, I wanted to talk with you again about Camp."

Dane: "What is it, Mom?"

Me: "Well, Daddy and I were not planning on driving you up this year. They're taking all the boys up in Vans and there aren't any other parents going."

Dane, shocked: "What do you mean, 'not planning on driving up'? You HAVE to go up and look everything over. You have to see my cabin and stuff. Besides, if you don't go, then I won't get to drive up with Deanna and Daelyn, and I'm going to be away from them for a whole week . . . No, I think you and Dad need to drive me up. We can follow the other vans."

Sounds pretty clear to me. We weren't going, we are now. I broke the news to Don later that night. He just laughed. My son knows me pretty well, apparently.

So, we trekked up to the North Georgia mountains. It was beautiful, Dane was excited, and we trudged up the hill to the campsite with the boys.

"Aunt Patti, will you hold my money for me?"

"Aunt Patti, where do you think we should put our clothes?"

"Aunt Patti, did you see the bath house up there on the hill?"

Most of the boys didn't seem the least bit surprised that we were there, although I definitely felt a little out-of-place. On our way up the mountain to their campsite, it began raining; not just a gentle rain, but a monsoon. The Georgia red clay was rushing in torrents down the path. We were soaked completely through and the Guides suggested we take refuge inside the cabins. Deanna, Daelyn and I stood around in Dane's cabin, talking with the other boys. Then I noticed Dane standing in the doorway, talking quietly with his father. They talked in soft tones for about 20 minutes. I never caught a single word, but it warmed my heart watching father and son, there together, sharing a few moments before we parted for the week.

We were on the road about 9 hours total, but it was worth every minute to see those precious twenty shared between parent and child. In those few moments, Dane seemed much older than his soon-to-be 12 and more like a young man heading off for college. I was painfully reminded of how few years we have left with him.

I'm awfully thankful we took him, after all. And I'm even more thankful that he wanted us to. I expect there will be precious few of those opportunities in the near future.