Olympic Refuge

Dear Friends of the Refuge,

Almost two weeks ago a parenting feat of extraordinary bravery was undertaken. Four adults (three moms and one dad) decided they would take thirteen children (all under the age of thirteen) on a twenty-four hour camping trip. Shockingly there were no mortal injuries, broken bones or concussions, and no one left the Duckabush crying. Personally, I think that each of the afore-mentioned adults deserve some sort of medal for their efforts, since the ratio was 4.25 kids to every adult.

On Sunday afternoon we met up with another family and started out for the Duckabush. The drive was long and hot (not having air-conditioning did not make it any more fun.) We finally arrived around 5:30 pm. Our other guests were there just ahead of us. The next hour was spent showing everyone around. We explored everything from the “Duckabush House” to “Methuselah’s Rest.”

When camping, there is nothing like having a good stick.

Let me introduce the kids. From youngest to oldest they are as follows: Isaac (16 mos), Sarah (4) , Elise (4), David (5), Adam (7), Jesse (8), Daniel (9), Abigail (9), Rachel (10), Max (10), Brigette (11) , Phillip (12), and myself (Joshua-12).

We were/are quite a crew in case you haven’t noticed.

Back to our adventure. Grandma put table cloths on the picnic tables down by the gazebo and Grandpa started a fire. We carried down drinks, salad fixings, fruit and all the basic necessities for a camping-out dinner (had to borrow some roasting sticks from the neighbors). Around 7 pm we roasted hot dogs and cooked hamburgers on the grill. After dinner the older boys (myself included) were sent to set up the tents. There were three tents in total: the really big one, the not-quite-so big one, and the itty-bitty one. The biggest tent could have fit my brother’s bunk-bed inside it, the big one was grand enough to hold my entire family inside, and the itty-bitty one (which, incidentally, is the one that I ended up in) looked as if it would be too small for one person. Upon closer inspection we saw that it was somehow larger on the inside than it appeared on the outside. Accordingly, we called it the Narnia tent. In spite of this I touched both ends when I lay down.

One tent was too big, one tent was too small, but the littlest bear’s tent was just right.

After we finished setting up camp, we all returned to the fire and (once it had been rekindled) began roasting marshmallows. You certainly can’t have a camp out without s’mores! We talked and roasted, and roasted and talked until about midnight. The younger kids didn’t last that long. After stuffing themselves with burnt marshmallows, graham cracker pieces and half melted chocolate squares, they ran around playing until it was time to go to bed. When the fire went out there were only seven or eight of us still at the fire sitting around the embers. After we finished talking the boys went to the tents and the girls to the “Duckabush House.”

No campout is complete without flaming gobs of marshmallow being waved wildly about.

I would like to point out that the girls who camped in the living room somehow ended up with the biggest tent of all. The boys stayed up (okay, I stayed up) until about twelve thirty or one o-clock, before falling asleep. I’m not sure what time the girls went to bed (in their big, huge tent which covered practically the whole living room—do I sound bitter?). I do know that they did not get up until 7:30 or 8 am, which means they got a lot more sleep than we boys.

It’s a good thing the Duckabush house has cathedral ceilings.

The night was relatively peaceful, although we heard a cat out in the darkness. From then on the boys made meowing noises to each other to see who could make the most realistic cat noise (and consequently scare the others). Finally they all fell asleep and stayed that way for roughly five hours. At about 5:30 am, my brother Daniel got the notion that he would holler “IT’S MORNING” at the top of his lungs. Do not ask me where he got this notion, or why he chose to act upon it. All I know is that he woke nearly everyone up with his bellowing. The rest of us (save a very lucky few) were woken up when Phillip yelled “IT’S 5:30, DAN, GO BACK TO SLEEP!!!” at the top of his lungs. Over the next half hour we all awoke and managed to get dressed and crawl out of our tents. Our fearless leader (otherwise known as my dad) took us down to the gazebo and started a fire, letting us warm our numbed limbs. We waited about 90 minutes until the sleepyheads, AHEM, I mean girls woke up around 7:45 am. There was one, unidentified person (who’s initials are Kathy Edgren) who didn’t wake up until after 8 am.

We had pancakes and eggs for breakfast. Four of us ate while we played “Carcassonne” (one of my favorite board games). Phillip and I tied for victory with over one hundred and fifty points apiece. There was some talk of a hike up to Muirhut Falls but we abandoned that idea for a long tour of the Refuge building (led by Grandpa) and a delicious lunch back at the Duckabush house.

We’re not quite ready for the drywall team.

After lunch we played many games, including “Loot” and “Slamwich.” I was victorious in them all (not that I am bragging or anything). Once we had finished that, we headed off to the Duckabush River to swim. Mrs. Burt came by with two of her children bringing our numbers up to 15! The water was frigid, just the way I like it. We had a great time swimming in the river and climbing around rocks and fallen logs. When Max heard you have to put your head under in order to be a true Duckabushite, he promptly waded in and dunked his head. Phillip, Leah, Rachel and I swam all around. Phillip even collected a sample of the clay rock from the bank across the way. It all ended much too quickly for my liking, and it was time to head back. We took the long way back to the Duckabush house, in order to give a nice tour of the Wilderness Northwest camp. Some of the group (okay, all of the girls) drove back home in the van.

Although there were a few minor scrapes and bruises, we didn’t leave anyone in the river.

When we got back to the Duckabush House, the older boys rushed off to take down the tents (which, by the way, is considerably easier than putting them up). After that was over we all returned to the Duckabush House and had cake and ice cream. It was Max’s 10th birthday and we ended our camping trip with a birthday party. What could be better than celebrating your birthday in the Duckabush? Of course, I might be a little biased.

All in all I had a very good time and I presume that everyone else did also. One thing is certain, none of us got enough sleep. I know this because my brother David was asleep before we turned onto the highway from Duckabush road. Rumors are Max and Jesse did the same thing. Phillip and Daniel lasted 45 minutes longer but were fast asleep by the time we reached Shelton. The rest of us spent part of the drive planning out loud who else we could take with us to the Duckabush for another camping outing. How soon can we get out there again?

Joshua