Flagstaff, AZ.
Lockett Meadow is one hell of a campground. About 4.5 miles of forest road heading up the mountains leads you to a high altitude grassy meadow surrounded by peaks, douglas fir, and aspen trees, as well as quite a sunset ducking behind the mountains. The whole campground is high enough up the mountian via dirt road so it feels removed, not overly populated, unless you count the night sky which is crowded with stars. Sites 7, 8, or 9 are the ones to shoot for.
We got there late and had to make camp in pitch black conditions. I told Seb he could wait in the car while I set things up because he was afraid of bears in the dark woods. They were pretty dark and foreboding I have to admit. A couple of times, while I was setting up…with my back to the woods….I felt…..like something was either watching…..or approaching… turned with the flashlight….and…. saw……… nothing but trees. Of course, I often have the same sensation when I turn off the light on my way out the bathroom.
That first night was hamburgers, potato salad and tapioca pudding for dessert and Seb was so excited that he fell asleep before it was cooked….poor little guy, we’d had a long drive. I cooked things up anyway then woke him to eat a little – he wanted to eat in the tent where it was warmer so I put him in with his burger and told him I was going to tend the fire then come right back. By the time I got back the burger was gone and he was inside the sleeping bag fast asleep. So… a little quite time. Sat by the fire thinking about the trip. Looking at the unavoidable Big Dipper. Trying to find the Little Dipper. Remembering camping as a kid in Flaming Gorge, Utah, my dad showing me the Big and Little Dippers in the sky.
Then, as many a mountain man had done before me, I had a little tapioca pudding and went to bed.
As beautiful as the spot was (and it is), we were ready to be home. Specifically, we were ready to be back with Mick and Santana. This journey had been epic – so worthwhile that I think it’s somehow the start of a new tradition. We felt the absence of the other members of our unit, though. The past nine days, 216 continuous hours together, had been such an interesting glimpse into what life would be like as a single child family. Simpler, I suppose, with less personalities and needs to deal with. But less…something as well. Just less. For us. There is no doubt we’re richer as a whole unit. Driving down the road, throughout the trip, Seb would ask to call Santana to see what he was doing and his smile would turn almost to a laugh when Santana would come to the phone. That was his bond he was talking to and I could feel his joy. Listening to the easy banter between the boys was really gratifying to me. That’s my clan. Our clan. Bigger than the sum of its parts. With each child, the amount of love in the home grows. My younger self would’ve never believed it.
Sebastian and I would rise early, make breakfast, and go for a good hike in the clear blue 
morning. We’d talk a little about grandparents, bears, altitude, and Star Wars. We’d balance our way across log “bridges”, watch a big doe walk through the woods and a chipmunk steal Seb’s raisin peanut butter bagel off our picnic table. Then we’d break camp together, load the car together, and head west together. So we could be together.
