The next morning the sun rose with a promise of a better day. The kids looked rested, Daryl was in the manly hunter’s mode and I hated wildlife. After breakfast we followed the creek bed, wadding and exploring each new bend. At one point we stopped to admire a small hole in the side of a cliff. I picked a rock and with strength and accuracy that amazed me I launched the rock at the hole and out flew an owl. “Monalea” Daryl said, “You woke him up.” “Big deal" I snarled, "some of his cohorts kept me up all night, why should he get to sleep?”
While hiking, we found a nice camping spot several miles away from our original campsite. It actually had a nice shade tree, several blades of grass and looked inviting; unlike the other place that screamed, ‘Death Valley, camp at your own risk.’ We hiked back, broke camp and moved to our new site. Once set up we enjoyed shade, birds and a more welcoming campsite.
We each looked to the other for wisdom, guidance and bravery but no one stepped forward. With one wild look from our fearless leader we all seemed to develop ESP at once and began to grab up our camping gear throwing things in the back of the truck. The 3 tents were ripped from their spots and tossed in with wild abandonment along with our other gear. As we loaded in the vehicles, some still holding half eaten hotdogs, we praised God because we had escaped with our very lives.