Potholes.
This past weekend we joined the Keeners at Potholes State Park for a weekend of camping. It was there last autumn we began our 4,858-mile trip. For the weekend, K's mom had planned everything. She secured all of us a spot at the group site which could fit probably forty people. Bother was us, K's older brother, her parents, and sister were the only ones who showed up. No worries. We still had a great time. It felt good to take out our van again, this time giving it a spin with S and H. For the record, the two of them slept wonderfully both nights, and K and I enjoyed some quiet time at night once the Keeners had all gone to bed.
We can't wait to take the van out again.
Saturday afternoon, rather than idle the afternoon away K and I grabbed the kids and we headed even further east to the Palouse. It was time for the annual wheat harvest and we wanted to check it out. K had never been there. I stopped by fourteen years ago with J on our way from the North Cascades to the Wallowas in Oregon.
We drove the van up to the top of Steptoe Butte, cooked dinner, and watched the shadows among the rolling hills lengthen in the setting sun.
