Wild About The Wilds

It felt good to gather around a table and eat meals and to sleep in a bed again. Waking up early was nothing unusual, but here at The Wilds camp, high in the Rockies, it was special. The lake in front of the lodge was covered with lacy patterns of mist, the patterns shifting in the breeze. The sun was just blushing the edge of the sky. From the dark evergreens on the far shore, the bugle of an elk hurtled across the water. The sun’s myriad of colors danced with the wisps of mist, kaleidoscope-like. Each day at the camp, the strokes of color became portraits of beauty that changed constantly throughout the week.

Meals, games, hikes, and devotions flowed by in ever changing activities. The well-trained counselors served the campers. The adults were more free and able to hike on their own and attend Bible sessions. They could watch or join the games.

One hike with another chaperone, led us up to the high meadows where we saw deer, ponds with lilies, and hushed, and needled carpets under the pines. Walking was slow. The altitude was over eight thousand feet and oxygen was thin, causing us to breathe more heavily with mild headaches.

My wife Cindy and I decided to go on a breakfast ride. We would ride horses or mules to a campfire/ chuck wagon breakfast. My wife was given a mule named Festus. The ranch hands tried to shorten the stirrups to accommodate her short legs, but her toes barely fit inside. Festus shifted his weight, nervous Cindy pulled back on the reins and Festus reared up. Since Cindy didn’t have a firm seat without her feet in the stirrups, she slid from Festus’ back onto the ground and onto her tailbone.

She rode to the breakfast in a jeep, but had a sore tailbone for the rest of the trip. Breakfast around the campfire was uneventful, but pleasant.

The rest of the week flew by and we planned to drive to Yellowstone National Park after the closing ceremony on Friday evening. The adults tried to catch naps so they would be able to drive through the night.