My Dad is # Juan!

Sara and Dad :)

I have been born of goodly parents. Seriously. Today is Father's Day 2012. Usually on Father's Day we (my brothers and myself) spend time at my dad's house to celebrate. It always turns into the same experience... my brothers sitting around on the couch watching some random show on the T.V. and me napping on a bed.. for a few hours minutes... Then we eat beans, meat, rice, tortillas and other delicious foods, open gifts (Eeets a sun-teen!), and eventually hug and leave. This year we celebrated a little differently. My brothers were going to go on a trip to Zion's this weekend, but it didn't work out so we moved the camping trip a little bit closer (North Fork) and invited the Daddy-o. I was really impressed with this switch-up and excited to go camping again with my dad. A favorite childhood memory with my dad was hearing his voice early in the morning outside of my tent on camping trips. He and my mom  chopped wood by the fire, while I stayed tucked in my sleeping bag with only the tip of my nose catching a hint of the freeeeezing mountain air. 

Yesterday (Saturday), my brothers and Brittie spent the afternoon staking out our campsite (the one by the stream where we always stay), and my dad and I spent the afternoon getting organized. This included making sure we had extra C batteries for my dad's emergency siren/radio/flashlight. He obviously needed to "listen" to talk radio throughout the evening and in case he got lost--he'd have a siren to signal for help. We bought eggs and sausage for breakfast, and packed the ketchup and mustard picnic kit that he's probably never used and then bought actual ketchup and mustard to fill the bottle containers. Of course, he also didn't forget to pack his sombrero for the camping trip. Did I mention how much I love my father? Well-- I do. 

Everyone just LOVED that I was taking pictures...

It was a crazy evening, including two trips down the canyon for various reasons and a trip to my mom's "camping store" in her basement for the camping stove, bed mats, and weenie roasters. I finally made it back up to the campsite a little after eight. Sara and Alesha met up with everyone earlier in the evening. Chon (Lorenzo) made me a hobo dinner and it was delicious and consumed with gratitude and lots of ketchup! 

We sat around the fire for a couple of hours roasting candy and marshmallows and trying to get the lantern started. I almost burned my face off trying to get it going-- but we won that battle! Dad told stories about times in Mexico and JP told scary stories that kept me awake most of the night... Thanks, Bum. Oh, and thank goodness his Brittie made him stop after awhile because I was already jumping up and down like a lunatic begging him to stop. Chon started putting all of the food in the cars and I couldn't have been more grateful. I have this irrational fear of bears attacking me when camping and putting the food in the cars is the only way I can get over it. Even with all of the careful storage we still had a visitor in the campsite last night. He left his grubby little raccoon footprints all over our table and benches. Hope he liked that sour patch kid that I forgot to throw out.

I have decided that I so very much WANT to love camping. I do. I really, really do. And for the most part, I do love it. I love the mountains. I love the fire. I love the stories (except for JP's). I love hearing the rushing stream. I love the outdoor smells and feelings. I love the time spent with my family. I so desperately love all of that. But, that being said-- I do not love being dirty. I do not love sleeping on rocks. I do not love listening to raccoons stomping on metal tables all night. I swear-- well I don't really swear (unless I'm scared in the middle of the canyon on a dark night... that's another story), I am the last one to fall asleep when I go camping. Anyone who knows me well, knows that I have a talent for falling asleep in .5834 seconds anywhere, on anything, at anytime, EXCEPT when I am camping. So-- I am a lover and a hater of camping. The end.

JP forgot a jacket. :(

Morning came and I had to giggle a little as I listened to Dad and Sara try to get out of their tent. I mostly heard a bunch of grunting and phrases like "I can't bend my knee," or "I can't even move," or "I can't feel my hands." Haha. I never think anything is funny at 5:30AM, but that was pretty funny. My dad got out of the tent and started chopping wood to start the fire. I curled up in my blanket and just enjoyed the experience. Chon got up not too long after and I followed. Dad made a fantastic breakfast of hash browns, eggs and sausage. My favorite part about breakfast was his fake spatula that he made out of cardboard and aluminum foil. Ha! He is a "Don't have it? Gonna make it" sort of man.. always has been.

We all cleaned up the campsite (left if better than we found it, Mom) and then I rushed home down the canyon to shampoo the smoke out of my hair and get to church in time for Relief Society. (PS I love my calling, and I love my sisters in the ward.)

This Father's Day, we celebrated our dad for all of his unique and fabulous qualities. Mi papi es un gran hombre. Siempre ha sido el papa perfecto para mi. Lo amo, lo quiero, y lo admiro. I'm so grateful for him.