“Thousands of tired, nerve-shaken, over-civilized people are beginning to find out that going to the mountains is going home; that wildness is a necessity”
-John Muir, Our National Parks

Sometimes you don't know what you need until you have it … we didn't need a vacation, we needed to be outdoors, breathing in fresh air that is not thick with to do's and what ifs. We needed to be in the wilderness so we could see each other's faces and know each other's minds.

This July we bought a 1952 Airstream Safari and I'll confess I think we paid too much for it. But at the time it was hard to argue with that gleaming shell. After a tree fell on it in late August, forever marring it's buffed perfection and knocking loose everything from the mostly original cabinetry to the bathroom and closet doors and causing/aggravating multiple leaks in the shell. At this point we'd only spent one night in the thing and our joke of naming her The Slippery Nickel seemed a lot less like a joke, the list of repairs and replacements was stretching out. Though the trailer was uninsured when the tree fell on it (people, insure your trailers!) my homeowners insurance reluctantly paid the maximum allowed and we used that to fix most of the storm damage, but truthfully it wouldn't be the same and we've entertained the idea of getting her back on her feet and selling her for a loss. But with weekend after weekend of summer-like weather passing with too much to do around town to get out and enjoy it, we decided to take advantage of the kids' long weekend off school and head out ... no excuses.

The Monument to Old Toby, who was one of many native people who aided the Lewis and Clark Expedition.

On Thursday we headed south on 93 through the Bitterroot Valley, and as we climbed out of Hamilton, MT, past Trapper Peak, through Darby and up and over Lost Trail Pass, the stresses of our Missoula life fell away behind us and not just for the adults in the car, the kids seemed lighter too. As we dropped down into Idaho and the Salmon River Valley, we played extended games of I Spy, answered lots of questions about the scenery, stopped to read about the Nez Perce Trail, the Lewis & Clark Expedition and Old Toby of the Shoshone Indians. I felt I was stepping out of myself and into a world where our thoughts and actions are deeply interconnected.

Packing up camp at Challis with the Hot Spring steaming in the background.

Lots of trees to climb, Challis Hot Springs.

At Challis, Idaho we stopped for the night at Challis Hot Springs, where we set up camp at the edge of the Salmon River among the willow trees. This is my new favorite destination. A long time proponent of bi-annual pilgrimages to Chico Hot Springs … I have now found a contender. There is no bar or restaurant, but that also means there are no drunk college kids and creepsters in the pools and therefore no nagging questions of "should I be shielding my child from this unique type of poolside drunkenness?" _ The pools were blissfully empty. Just a few folks lingering quietly at the edges.

There are two spring fed pools: a hot pool which is a bout 105/106 and the cooler pool which felt about 100 degrees with river rock bottoms so that the heat from the spring can bubble up at your feet. The changing rooms are sparse but clean and utterly charming. The RV spots had water and electricity, horse shoe pits and acres of open space for kids to run free. I am already plotting a return with our fishing gear and a couple other families.

A hot creek flows by at Challis Hot Springs.

The river rock bottom of the hot pool, Challis Hot Springs.

On Friday we reluctantly hit the road again continuing our southern journey. We drove about an hour and half more through winding mountain scenery dotted here and there with small towns and abandoned homesteads until a black shadow grew on the horizon as if the land in the distance was covered in thick clouds. But there were only a few clouds in the sky. What we were seeing was the unbelievably black rock of the Craters of the Moon National Monument.

In all we hiked about five miles on Saturday and in the end my legs were tired, I can only imagine how this little shorty felt.

Sometimes I get a little anxious (sometimes a lot) about traveling so I was honestly wondering if I would like this place. Back at the Hot Springs, we told a hunter basking in his recent successful Antelope hunt, where we were going and he said: "Now why would you want to go there? Ain't nothin' there." But I couldn't have disagreed more. Sure, the landscape was stark but it it was mind-blowing for all of us to see the path of the lava, the most recent flow some 2,000 years ago and the oldest over 10,000 yrs ago. The older flows just beginning to revegetate. The newer flows formed lava tubes beneath the surface creating caves. Some of the openings were large and cavernous but others were only large enough to slip your body through the opening but would open up once you got below the surface. Watching my kids scramble into these depths I thought; this is how adventurous spirits are born, so I tried my best to keep the "be careful"s to a minimum … I was going with the flow on the this trip (he he).

Climbing out of a "kid cave", Craters of the Moon National Park

Oscar assesses Beauty Cave, Craters of the Moon National Park

Indian Tunnel, Craters of the Moon National Park

Our campsite was much better than expected, across a small lava ravine from the bathrooms (close but not too close!) the ravine was like a play pen for kids and dogs with a large low pine perfect for climbing and getting yourself sufficiently sappy. With out their toys the kids quickly fell into a routine on a loop of tree climbing, drawing, dog walking and biking around camp. After weeks of daily morning temper tantrums and crying spells from our six year old, it was a much needed respite from our daily grind. And a reminder that a six year old sometimes needs to be allowed to be a six year old, go figure. I became acutely aware of how much we ask of her, of them both really, often expecting them to be little adults and hold it together even when sometimes we ourselves can't.

Cooking with gas… a gas oven! This changes everything.

The nights in the Airstream were cozy and warm. The kids fell asleep snuggled close while Morgan and I stargazed and sat in front of our illegal campfire that we built in the campsite grill. I saw one of the biggest shooting stars I'd seen in years and with no moon the milky way was dense and bright above us. We talked and talked but not once about the house we were building or the one we were selling. We talked mostly about Oscar and Quinnie, their bright personalities and how glad we were that we'd come.

In all the trip was a huge success, the Airstream did not leak when it rained a bit Saturday night, she pulled like a dream getting about 14 miles to the gallon, almost everything worked like the awning we happily unfurled for the first time and we all slept like babies. I think I've fallen back in love, so maybe we'll keep her,after all. But if we're going to keep her we need a good name. I like Silver Lining … suggestions?