Ammi Midstokke: Emulating Lewis and Clark in family expeditions
One thing, however, that Lewis and Clark did not have is a bunch of children and dogs. No modern patchwork family expedition would be complete without at least three children and two medium-sized dogs, the latter of which are more attentive during the ‘how to not tip the canoe’ pre-trip debrief.
For such outdoorsy people, we were amazingly naive about the amount of gear necessary to support a family expedition. In fact, there may have been some conversation suggesting the younger people could all pile into one sleeping bag. Packing five bags and corresponding sleeping mats just seems excessive.
By the time we shuttled our camping equipment – mansion-sized tents, enough food to weather a winter, dog life jackets, kid life jackets, paddles, pumps, mosquito repellant, ten pairs of shoes, etc. – there was not enough room for wine, which is probably the reason Lewis and Clark did not take any children.
Side note: Apparently little kids also require food, and my idea of foraging for sustenance was optimistic as our children are not skilled mushroom hunters. In fact, mushrooms are considered sacred fairy houses and should, under no circumstances, be plucked for the skillet.
Somehow all of these things actually fit into our 17-foot canoe. I argued that there was still room for my mountain bike, which had been preemptively denied access in the early planning stages of the expedition. Solo mountain bike excursions are contrary to “family time,” a concept I am still wrapping my head around and likely the cause of my previous divorce.
No expedition would be complete without a hysteria-crazed launch from the shore with three panicking girls screaming, “We’re going to tip over!!!” and two dogs whining in anxious expectation of the same. Strangely, there were few wildlife sightings as we paddled up the thoroughfare.
We passed a few kayaks and canoes along the way, each of them noting our ample travel party. We explained we were part of the Child Rehab and Release program and were planning on returning them to their natural wild habitat. We considered leaving an iPod with them as a crutch until they knew all the lyrics to the Katy Perry songs and the batteries wore out.
What ensued, though, was one of the best family trips we have ever experienced – and we’re just getting started. It takes some trial and error to figure out what is really necessary for a group that large in the backcountry (camp chairs and Sriracha sauce) and which things are superfluous (make-up and phones).
Once we made camp on the shores of the lake, the children were wild and free and seldom seen. They gathered moss and sticks for our fire, decorated the plethora of fairy houses, splashed in the lake, filtered water, carried bugs, and generally played as children should play – with a fascination about the world they were in.
As for us grownups, we stoked the fire and had lazy conversations on the shore. We detached from our phones. We slept under the stars. We told campfire stories. We applauded our expedition-worthiness while planning our next family adventures.
One thing is for certain: We’ll bring the kids so we can release them all over again.