A Huckleberry Finn Moment

Every other year, the kids get to pick an activity or party to celebrate birthdays with their friends. This year was Justus’ turn, and of all the activities Justus could pick from, he chose spending a day on our Columbus property.  I smiled on the inside.  The trip would feed my growing appetite for that place.  I enjoy the tall trees whose craggy bark reminds me of wrinkles on an old man’s face, the living river jumping with yellow cat, and the sounds of the distant train waking up the otherwise sleepy county seat.

Justus would have to select a small group of friends this time.  You see, this outing was to include a canoe trip down the Colorado River, and while Lisa and I would have liked nothing more than to invite every child Justus wanted to include, not only would we have looked ridiculously like a rated G version of the amphibious invasion on Normandy, at $40 per boat I would have had to take out a small loan against my 401k (… okay, not really).  Realistically, having a smaller platoon would help me keep a good eye on every boat in the water.  I also had a feeling that much of my attention would be given to Rebecca and her friend Anna, who would undoubtedly desire the adventure to be “over already” about halfway through the six mile loop.

Aside from his lifelong friend Samuel, most of Justus’ most meaningful relationships are at his gym – boys he sees at least eighteen hours a week. So, just how do you invite a few twelve year olds from the group without hurting the feelings of every other child who didn’t get the nod? Believe me, it isn’t easy. And although I think we succeeded, it was not without the burden of secrecy – that is, moms teaching their kids how to keep a zipped lip. These are good life-skills I guess. I know a lot of grown-ups that haven’t learned to keep their inside thoughts their inside thoughts. All this tip-toein’ around was exonerated, of course, by it’s own implicit redemption – prevention of hurt feelings from the other moms and their children. Ugh.

Included in the adventure was a campfire dinner of “Silver Turtles.”  These mini goulash delights are made from fire roasted hamburger, potatoes, onions, carrots and choice seasonings rapped in an aluminum foil pocket.  It was all a grand plan, really… until the burn-ban smothered our campfire idea and high headwinds sank plans for the adventurous canoe trip.  Even up until the day before, we wondered if we should just call the whole thing off.

Despite the setbacks, Justus emphatically encouraged us to charge ahead with the outing.  And so the next day, we were off.  Instead of canoeing, the boys went swimming in the river.  Instead of a campfire dinner of Silver Turtles, we cooked brats and hot dogs for lunch over a charcoal grill in one of our picnic areas.

Due to the lack of rain this spring the pecan trees were still very drowsy:  The trees had little more than week-long blossoms on them.  The shade was minimal and all the boys got a little cooked.  That evening back at the house, all I could think was, “those moms are going to be so mad.”

As I said before, Rebecca and Anna joined us, but they made their own plans: a glamorous photo shoot on the sand bar, complete with a 10 gallon bag of clothes.  It was a little too sweltering for that to be much fun, so they retreated to the over-sized hammock and cooling breezes.  I’m not sure they know how to “go country” for a day. They ended up hanging out the whole day barefooted, sporting bathing suits and matching pearl earrings. Still, although it was enjoyable poking fun, I was more happy they were with us. We may just have to outlaw cell phones next time…

Right after lunch, the boys struggled a little with what to do.  (These city boys live their lives on tight schedules, buzzing around from one activity to another.)  I suggested they wander around and be adventurous.  Soon enough, they got the hang of it. They climbed trees, went swimming in the river, played in the sand and kicked the ball around.  I told them it was okay to wander on other people’s property.  There are very few fences and we’d been told by the neighbors they don’t mind if the kids play around. Like us, most of our neighbors aren’t living out there yet anyway.

Then they had a Huckleberry Finn moment.

The boys found an old handmade go-cart made of wood and rope in the neighbor’s open-air shed.  It didn’t have an engine. It was designed for gravity to do the job, and the barn where it was stored was on a hill. You know where this is going, don’t you?  The boys decided they had found their adventure.  By the time I made my way over to see exactly what they were riding down the hill, they had placed the cart back under the shed and were just “hanging out.”  Can’t you see them whistling a random tune and kicking the dirt? I told them that while I did say that it was okay to go on an adventure, it was altogether another thing to use other people’s stuff without my permission.  They all understood and I turned to go.  A couple of steps later I turned around and said, “And if you break anything, you need to be forthright with me. I’d hate to have our neighbors find out first.”  And with that, I turned around again and headed back to camp. I no more than got a few yards, and Samuel stated sheepishly, “Uh, Mr. Hyde, the rope on the cart broke… but it was just hanging on by a couple of threads.”  Looks like Justus and I will be having a talk with our neighbors real soon.

Here’s a few pictures from the trip.

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