No Pants

This is a part of my family stories recording for my 25 in 25 post:

Growing up my family would camping about 2-3 times a year. Our favorite spots were Dohney Beach near Laguna Hills and Yosemite National Park. Every August we would travel to Yosemite to spend a week hiking, reading, and watching the sun set in the meadow. One of my mother's favorite hike was up the Toloumne River, where we would hike for about a mile, stop by a bridge, eat our snacks and if we were brave enough we'd put our feet in the water.

On one such time up the river, around when I was 10 or 11, I became a little more adventurous. I wanted to walk across the river, prove that I was adult enough to make it across without getting wet.

Of course I wasn't. Not only did I get my shorts wet, I managed to slip on the rocks and sit butt first down in the river. I was soaked up to my waist and had a mile to hike back to the camp sight. I cried in tears at the thought of walking back in wet pants so my mother went running down the trail to get me a new pair. Unfortunately, I had significantly calmed down by the time she returned, and even managed to start heading back on the trail.

To this day my mom never lets me forget the fact that I fell in the river, and even as a 25 year, I will wade in the water and she will still tell me to be careful. And that she is not heading back to get me new pants if I get wet - that is how I will have to walk back. Fortunately I haven't fallen in since.