Skipping stones and other stuff

You know how one thing leads to another.  We started small, skipping little stones into the quick moving Kern River.  Then before long we were skimming down a natural rock slide in the Sequoia National Forrest.  FYI:  Grandmas don’t skim well down slick, dry rocks.  When my feet went out from underneath me, I splatted.  I had been holding the Mouse.  As any valiant grandma would do, I cradled his head with my elbow.  The sound of my head pounding against the rock resounded throughout the valley.  “This can’t be good,” I thought.

“Mom,” Hot Wheelz yelled, rushing to my side, “are you okay?  I was scared.  I heard your head hit the ground.”  Yep, that was the same sound I’d heard, too.

But strangely I felt no pain.  Guess I inherited my dad’s hard head.  He once dove in a swimming pool and collided heads with a kid in the water.  The swimmer had fifteen stitches, my dad ne’er even a headache.  I took after him… at least the hard headed part.

“I can see bone,” said Mr. Green Jeans after we found the blood was coming from me.  Five stitches later to the elbow, I’m hoping the tuck in my loose flesh fixes the flab on my elbow that the Worm likes to play with.

The less infirmed went for a wild white water rafting trip while the younger and older members of the group played at a park near the river’s edge.  The days moved almost as swiftly as the rapid water.  Another raft adventure, less white water, more gray haired participants, designed for those who could not paddle because of age (or infirmities), floated down a less ferocious section of the river.  Our very own Pirates of the Caribbean tour along the Kern River.  After a couple of dips and sprays in the cold water, the raft moved gently under the hot sun.  We climbed into the current and floated like a “lounge chair” until we reached an overhanging tree.  We bravely climbed crawled up like a baby and jumped in the water from a platform.  Our guide flung me back in the raft by my life preserver like a large tuna in a red vest.

To sum it up,

There was green alligators and giant rock slides,
some humpty back rocks and tubes that glide. 
A Bug, a Worm, and a little Mouse, too,
all in the swift-moving Kern River blue.

After four days of making strange (not hard to do in this family), the Mouse finally befriended Hot Wheelz.

And the perfect ending to the trip…

Postlogue:

The GAP and family continued their trip up California’s coastline while the rest of us returned home to Southern California.  She called to say they had made it to Monterrey after a short stay in King’s Canyon.  “Did the Mouse miss all of us?” I asked.  (Seventeen months old, the Mouse has yet to say his first word, though he seems to be advancing to a few syllables now.) 

“I don’t really know, Mom,” laughed the GAP.  “He didn’t say.”

Related posts:

1. Family vacation Chevy Chase style
2. Let me introduce you to my family
3. Family vacation nightmare
4. I’m old enough to be thankful
5. Tacky & sappy but merry wishes to you all