Sunday, October 26, 2008


From the beginning, Isaac was excited to be there. He got to go with Daddy in the truck all by himself to go wander around in the sage brush, which is Dad's version of heaven. Sure, there was a little walking to do, but it was down a really cool, windy road that started at the top of the canyon near the ruins of the Teton Dam and ended at the dam's toe, right where the river squeezes between the canyon and the dam's pyramidical remains.

On the way, Isaac collected rocks to throw in the water. That's all he wanted to do. Throw a rock, watch it splash. Throw another one. Watch it splash. And another. And another. Finally at the bottom. Goal in sight. He ran, his hands full of rocks. Tripped over an exposed root, fell flat on his face, flat on the rocks in his arms. Ended up with a cut lip and a desire to climb the canyon wall to get back to the truck. So Dad cajoled him part of the way, pulled him some more but carried him most of the way. So traumatized by the event, Isaac fell asleep on the way home. Woke up the driveway, still sniveling. So he got to watch "Race for Your Life, Charlie Brown," where families put their kids in untold dangers -- wild river rafting, in the snow no less -- without any adult supervision whatsoever. Dad felt a lot better about his parenting skills after that.

Also, must mention the kind young man, Samaritan in training, who checked on us at the bottom of the canyon, then raced up to the lip and returned about halfway with bottled water and wipes for Isaac. I was too embarrassed to accept help, but it was appreciated. The parents of this young man should be proud -- he's selfless and willing to help a stranger. He's been raised well. I only hope my own kids will reflect that kind of training.

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