Wet Pants

The beginning of our return trip was spent sliding.

Step back.

That is, after the very beginning (400 feet) of our descent. That part, well, it was spent hoisting a very scared dog over boulders – it was precarious – it wasn’t very smart – it wasn’t witnessed (that would have been embarrassing) – everyone and dog lived.

All is well for the person who was not hoisting said aforementioned dog. (Steve’s requirement was to live, it was ok to be injured, just not die. Seems pretty simple.)

So as we allowed ourselves to slip and slide down the snow covered slope, I realized that if at some point, all did not go well or we couldn’t stop, we’d crash directly into an unfortunately placed boulder – thanks long gone glaciers. (Obviously I am not going to blame my decision-making, sheesh)

I suggested as much to Steve after several rounds of this enjoyable activity (although my ankles were suffering ankle freeze – little known but nearly as painful kin to brain freeze).

His response, “all the fun things in life are dangerous.”

Hmm. My response, “sex is fun.”

Ha. Got him, sex is fun but not nearly as dangerous as cracking your head open on a boulder.

Steve chuckled, “there are all kinds of things about sex that are dangerous.”

Huh. Damn it.

Whatever.

Hrmph. I’ll just dwell on the fun parts and conveniently forget the dangerous parts (emotionally speaking). At least in this moment.

Anyhoo, (moving on, no pun intended) we continued our way down the mountain, Jazz free once again to venture forward as our welcoming party. In my mind, having her on a leash prevents her from falling off the side of the mountain when in reality, I realize that if she goes over, I’m going over too. Again, I am practiced in pretending that this isn’t the case. And I have yet to hear a tragic story of dog overboard bringing dutiful owner with. (don’t share)

Steve and I discussed the adolescents we had encountered along the way – so unbelievably polite and friendly. We decided that perhaps the next generation felt a little less entitled thanks to the economy.

And then we happened upon another gaggle of teenagers, just as friendly as the ones before. They inquired about the state of the trail up a head. We warned them of snow, of the bouldering that their two Jazz sized dogs would be unlikely to navigate.

I remarked to Steve a little further along that they were not wearing hiking shoes, making the snow impossible (I hoped). It inspired a story of people precariously attempting Lake Serene in sneakers – inexperienced hikers.

Experienced hikers? Is that what we are? They probably won’t attempt to climb over boulders with a 50 pound dog under one arm. Ok, maybe that wasn’t an “experienced” decision. It is a good idea if you survive! (says captain safety)

The view was magnificent and surely Jazz appreciated it.

We returned to the car, removed our boots and outfitted our weary feet in flip flops and I thought of Jazz attempting boulders. Poor Jazz, if only she could take off her shoes… unfortunately they are attached.