Lake again

This week I received my copy of BYU Magazine with my PB&J spaghetti story. It turns out I wasn't the only one, because I got two separate messages from people who had seen it in the magazine.

That wasn't my only publication, as my latest review, Creepy Cocoa Crisp M&M's, went up on Wednesday, the day after I submitted it. It is too early to eat Halloween candy normally, but I can have things early if I'm reviewing them. The life of a junk food reviewer involves going to random stores to look for specific items, not even knowing if they're going to have them. I had to review this one because of the plush M&M vampire I had. When I got it in Las Vegas fourteen years ago, I had no idea how handy it would come in one day.

 The same can be said for the plastic coffin I got in elementary school. I don't even know where I got it—MacFrugal's (Big Lots)?

But even though those things are first in my blog, they really aren't the highlight of the week.

For longer than I have been alive, my family has camped most summers at Moosehorn Lake in the Uintas, usually in August. But because of school and work, I haven't been up there since 2010, and I haven't camped there since 2006 or 2007.

But I requested a few days off so I could go camping with my folks. They bought a trailer on Labor Day, so we took it up and spent three nights there (Wednesday night to Saturday afternoon).

I don't sleep particularly well in the trailer, but it's better than a tent.

On Thursday, my dad and I walked up the side of a ledge to a charming meadow over the lake. It was full of wildflowers and meandering streams. All around, the ground was fairly wet from natural springs, melting snow, and fresh rain.

Colorado columbine

This is Moosehorn Lake.

There is a boulder in the lake that triggers regret from an incident when I was eight years old. (Initially I thought I was nine, but that's impossible because I had a broken leg then.) There were rocks and logs leading out to the rock, and I thought it was cool and fun to go and sit on the rock in the lake. One time, as I was going to the rock, a girl was ahead of me, and she was also walking out to the rock. I didn't want her to take my spot, so I walked around her on the stepping stones, and I might have made her step in the lake. So I made it to the rock first, and she turned around and might have made some kind of exclamation. And I feel sad when I think about that girl, probably returning to her family and telling them how she wanted to sit on the rock but some rude kid made her step in the lake. What a jerk!

 On Friday, my dad and I went to the trailhead to hike Bald Mountain, which I climbed back in 2005. It was three miles round trip, with a climb of more than 1,000 feet. I didn't run it (for several reasons), but we still passed several groups, and yet no groups passed us. When I'm my dad's age, I hope I'm in as good a shape as he is.

 That evening, I took our inflatable boat out on the lake, but it was leaking. The next day, we replaced a patch and went on the lake again.

A lot of the time was spent reading Saints, studying, and playing games.

I really don't know what else to tell you. It was nice to get away; the scenery was lovely; I did some hiking and boating. I guess that's it.