My First Loves Finally Meet

My dad had the most impeccable luck when I was a kid (and I think it is still continuing...). As his calling he worked with the young men most the time I can remember. Being the outdoorsy man he is--they camped pretty much every month. As far as I know--it never rained. Never. And we lived in Washington.
You would think, as his oldest daughter, that some of this luck would have rubbed off on me. It hasn't. I think it is a pretty mean joke. Every time Danny and I decide to do something outside, it rains. It rained on the day of m y bridals, our wedding day, every time we plan to go to Seven Peaks, all three times we have planned to wash the car, and yes--the very first newlywed camping/waverunnering trip. The week leading up to our trip was in the triple digits all week--perfect time to spend a night in a tent and the next day on the water. As soon as we got out tent up, we heard thunder, saw lightning, and smelled rain. However, with our past history of rained out activities, we expected it.

Danny and I packed our car, put on our honeymoon tidied shirts and drove up the canyon. We found a nice little camping site close to Lake Jordanelle where we would play the next morning. I had packed some pretty awesome food. We grilled kielbasa and zucchini (from my mom's garden in Colorado). Later Danny used his boy scout skills and taught me how to make a fire (again). No camping trip is good without roasting smores--which we did.


We actually slept pretty well--despite the storm. We packed everything up in the morning and drove to the lake where Danny's first wave runner was awaiting. Despite the rain, we played for a few hours. I started (having experience and knowing as soon as I gave the controls over to Danny I wouldn't get them back). The lake was glass for the first little while with us out there and we toured around looking at the shores, going as fast as we could and annoying all the late fishermen. When some of the boats started to join us, I started playing around a little more. Showing Danny my wild and crazy side.

I think it was during one of my little lessons on what not to do on a wave runner that we hit a wave dead on and experienced a major wipeout. What made it major for me was that I didn't even realize I was off the thing until I was already coming up out of the water. I went over the handle bars onto my back and Danny went over me, over the handlebars. Somehow he received a big welt (that didn't show in the picture really well)--it was a good battle wound.

We lost both our glasses. As soon as we were freezing, shivering, and realized it was much warmer in the water than on the runner, we decided to call it a day. Again we grilled--teriyaki steaks and potatoes--then drove back to Provo.
It was a wonderful little trip.