Bike Peddler » Cockleburr

That being said, my sons Owen(9) and Gavin(6),my dog Cockleburr(age unknown), and I set out on our annual backpacking trip. Heretofore and affectionately referred to as "Man Camp". We started going a couple of years ago, and this was by far the most successful trip.

It's a short hike. Only a mile from the Crystal Lake Trailhead. And as a consequence it can be quite crowded. I have considered going further in to avoid the crowds but even though this is Gavin's third year, this was the result of the hike in.

They both perked up a little later.

The dog isn't too crazy about having to pack in his own weight either. Plus he hasn't quite fully recuperated from his near-death experience a few weeks ago.

We found a little more secluded site this year.

It involved a steep scramble up from the lake shore, and you could still hear the loudmouthed scouts down on the lake shore all night Friday, but Saturday night things quieted down considerably.

I am by no means an avid backpacker. And I hate dehydrated food. So we tempt the laws of food storage and pack in things that might make it all weekend without refrigeration.

These are our new favorite "Campfire Chicken Quesadillas".

Saturday, we hiked over to what I had always thought was Clyde Lake. Turns out it's Cliff Lake. When we figured this out, and tried to find Clyde Lake, we ended up at the bottom of the Crystal Lake trail. Which was......where we had parked the truck.

So, we scooted back up the Notch Mountain Trail to Wall Lake for lunch. Then I suggested another adventure. I packed up what was going to be dinner that night, and all the fishing stuff(fishing sucks at Wall Lake due to high traffic and a giant rock that people are constantly jumping off of into the water). We would go looking for Clyde Lake as the crow flies instead of following any trail. We had some good information, and would follow the many trickling drainages that feed into Wall from Clyde. This turned out to be much more direct, but a rough, steep hike. At this point, it became obvious that we had better catch some fish or I was in trouble. Luckily, the sun shines on a dogs butt every once in awhile, and while I was cooking Mac and Cheese on the shores of Clyde Lake, they started biting.

Since I am obviously no fisherman, this was a pure dumb luck coincidence. I haven't caught a fish in years unless you count the times my father-in-law has tied all the knots, told me where to drop the hook, and wiped my nose for me at Flaming Gorge. In all we caught six fish. Three of them came off and flopped back into the water as the kids and I scrambled around like a bunch idiots. Those three we kept made it to the campfire, and our bellies. I hadn't had fresh-caught trout since I was a kid. It was awesome.

The fact that we caught fish, no one puked in their sleeping bag(Man Camp 08) and it didn't rain constantly(Man Camp 07-08). It was a fantastic trip. Just like most of the mountains around here. The long wet spring left the hills lush and covered in wildflowers.

This little purple thing was everywhere once you got above the 10K ft mark.

After the trip to Clyde, the clouds rolled in. Luckily they didn't have much rain but it did hail for about ten minutes. Owen isn't triplets, but he wouldn't hold still for the auto-stitch series of photos.