Foursome

It's 9 am on the day after our little Otis was born at 1:38 in the afternoon. Soon he'll be 24 hours old, and two days ago was Indie's 17-month birthday. Two cribs, two car seats, and lots of diapers of two different sizes will now occupy our home, cars and life in general.

Otis and Molly are peacefully sleeping right now and I'm sitting quietly tapping on my laptop while listening to Delta Spirit. Family and friends have been coming and going as much as doctors and nurses. It's a beautiful sunny day outside our hospital room window and so, of course, we're all hoping to go home today. They say we probably will, after dinner sometime.

I took this photo of Indie stuffed into my hiking boot when she was less than a week old. The boot maker, Alico, operates out of the Italian Alps and I purchased the pricey clod-hoppers at a serious discount about 7 years ago. I have used them for miles and miles of hiking and backpacking and was wearing them when I met Molly. The characterizations of our family in this photo, and the story behind it, are numerous. Our family is now complete, and we're ready to start getting to it.

Otis came quickly. He was a week early (not very -- Indie was two), but after Molly took a long labor-inducing morning walk yesterday, the time lapsed from the first contraction to delivery was about three hours. Most likely this says nothing about who he will be, but optimistically and perhaps naively I will assume until proven otherwise that Otis will be just as impatient and quick-to-act as his Daddy. These qualities are not necessarily good ones, but at least we'll be at the same pace when packing the car to escape the city.

So, what's going through my head when I think about Molly, me, Indie, and Otis? Canoes packed with lots of camping gear segue into oar-rig rafts and baby backpacks into little hiking boots and hand-widdled hiking sticks. I ponder the geometric arrangement of pak n plays along with the tent and sleeping bags in the back of our Subaru. Then, I think that we may need to get a trailer. Being only 17 months apart, I fantasize about Indie and Otis, ages 5 and 4 respectively, best friends 'splorin the woods together while Molly and I set up camp at some newly-discovered swimmin' hole. I see lots of our friends and family members joining us there, and Indie and Otis trampin' about with their cousins.They come back to camp, like I did with my brothers, sister, and friends, with some slimy bug or neat-looking leaf to show all the grown-ups. I hope that Molly's fear of snakes and my fear of heights are not genetic.

What will I do when Indie and Otis ask about Disneyland, or even Kennywood? This is why we keep Uncle Jeremy around.

Gittin' r dun.

Father's Day 2010

It had been several years since Molly and I had been able to get Jeremy to accompany us on an adventure. The last one, a point-to-point hike along Big Sandy Creek in Preston County, WV, was an overnight and because there is no worn trail along our route, a bushwhack. Things have changed, and there are approximately 1.95 new crew members who will  always be joining us on future adventures.

My first Father's Day, in 2009, had been a great one. I convinced most of my family to join Molly, Indie, and me on a hike along Meadow Run in Ohiopyle, PA to a spot called the Cascades. With the fantastic Cucumber Falls, the Meadow Run Natural Waterslides, and the Youghiogheny River itself all within a few hundred yards of each other in Ohiopyle, the Cascades don't see many visitors. If this 40+ foot cascading waterfall wasn't located so close to other attractions, it would be its own attraction. However, it's in Ohiopyle, and only the beautiful spots that one can easily walk to are visited by the masses. That's what I love about the Cascades.


After some tips from a friend and some Internet sleuthing, I settled on a spot about 1.5 hours from home on some backroads. It was a gamble, but so is any adventure to parts unknown. I vaguely knew the area from a day of paddling a while back, but for the most part we were heading into some PA State Gamelands we'd never been to before. I pieced together rough directions from geo-caching and climbing websites to a swim hole on a creek that not many boaters have on their radar in a forest not many people venture into. Getting there early to beat the sleeping rednecks is my usual policy, and we were on the road by 8:45 am.

We only made three wrong turns, but two of them were off the dirt road and put us at spots where the road terminated right away. It is all part of the process, and in this case the payoff was tremendous. In fact, it's remarkable that the first place where we pulled into the weeds to park was the right spot; a trail led us a couple hundred feet into the woods right to the hole. At first glance, I knew we were looking at a gem.


The walk reminded me of that last adventure with Jeremy, in particular in the crossing of Big Sandy Creek. Moving to rock to rock without going into the freezing water required choreography, and descending the last bit of trail to the swim hole with a very pregnant woman and a cute little redhead was no different. And, it was a team effort once again. I had Indie strapped to my back, so I was occupied in keeping my own stability while Jeremy sherpa'ed Molly down the steep, rocky trail. The extra weight of a pregnant woman isn't really the issue; it's the forward shift from her regular center of mass. Preventing her from falling forward was key, and there's nobody else I'd trust more than Jeremy for that.

The hole was about 40 feet across, but the deep section at the foot of the falls was only about 15 feet across. Still, that was plenty of room to take the plunge. It was an easy scamper to the top of the falls, a precarious stutter to the edge, and a bum ride down the slick slab of rock into a freefall. It took my breath away the first time, but if it hadn't, the cold water would have.

Indie was incredible. I never expected a 17-month-old to require such focus, but I was completely occupied with making sure that she was never on her own accord near the water. As soon as we picked a spot for Molly to hunker down (amazing, isn't she?), Indie was on the trail. She digs dirt, scratches bark, and climbs rock while she squeaks, yakety-yaks, and claps. I find a strange mixture of pride while being unnerved at how her capabilities exceed her judgment. It's a dangerous combination, but with some diligence it fortunately only amounts to minor bumps and scrapes.

Just like Indie, but with a bit more grown-up sensibility, Jeremy and I climbed around on the waterfall and took the slide-plunge a few more times. The sun began to rise to an overhead position, warming us up enough to keep playing. It was a fantastic day in the mountains. I can't wait to go back with our little boy and when Molly can enjoy it, too.

Git r dun!