Vacation... sweet, sweet vacation

Here's the thing:

Mike and I lived in New England for over 30 years each. I was born in Connecticut and grew up in New Hampshire, with a brief 6 year stint in Massachusetts after we got married. We've only been in Arizona for four years, so I understand that our thinking might still be clouded with newness (although, lots of people have decided that they hate new areas in far less time than 4 years!), but neither of us has any desire to move back east, now or in the future. So accustomed as we've become to the vast open spaces, I have a hard time believing we wouldn't feel closed in and claustrophobic if we ever returned. There's just something about driving (and hiking and camping and being) in such a majestic area that makes you feel simultaneously very alive and very small, in the best possible way.


All of that to say, when we recently had an opportunity for a first time, week-long, exploration of the beautiful neighboring state of Nevada, we were thrilled!

It wasn't a restful vacation by any means, but it was restoring. We hiked (and hiked and hiked and hiked) and logged about 2 dozen more geocache finds. We explored the small town of Pioche, and checked out some old mining claims. We wandered through caves, and we gaped at the beauty of Zion. The boys fished, entered a mucking competition, and tasted their first deep-fried Ding Dong. We watched deer on the hill every morning, and we saw wild horses look right at us before they trotted away. We started each day with the sunrise and a great cup of coffee, and ended each day with a campfire and a great glass of wine.

And it was good.



















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