The Gorge that's Flaming

I have some pretty fond memories of going to Flaming Gorge in my youth- Ashlee cutting a giant "F" into her arm jumping out of Grandpa's truck, Ben falling in the creek 12 times in one day, no teeth brushing for 3 days and a travesty of a hair do because let's face it, the "claw" bang was never meant to survive camping.

This year, with a rental tent trailer as an enticement (Thanks, Bree), we headed up to make some memories with our own kids. We had a blast! The weather was awesome and the day on the pontoon was unforgettable. We visited Vernal, rode in canoes at the lodge, played Phase 10 and stayed up late listening to the rain and thunder.

The kids were in heaven. Kingston could be found throwing things in the creek close to camp, hiding under the trailer or using some piece of wood he found as a "hammer". Mc was content to carry a fishing pole, shoot the BB gun with uncle Ty Ty or to color, make up songs or dance with her BFF Brynlee.

Although I prefer a night in the Marriott, Troop Beverly Hills style, I found the camp fire smell, filthy raga-muffin children and bang-free easiness of camping enjoyable and something we would sign up to do again.

The Three Amigos

Uncle Ty Ty introducing the children to firearms.

Listening for the thunder and watching the lightning.

A nice comfy spot in the dirt.



The only thing I have ever caught with a fishing pole in my life is a muddy sock. I was very pleased to have the first catch of the day (illegally). Small, thrown back, but a triumph nonetheless.

The Crew on the Pontoon.

The world's largest marshmallow. Mc was rather disappointed with the mallow to chocolate ratio.

Hiding under the trailer.