My Mountain Man

I promised you all that I'd share the tale of Murray the Mountain Man as soon as I had pictures, and now I have pictures!

As part of our family vacation two weeks ago, we spent a couple of nights at my sister-in-law's family cabin out in Weber County. The time spent at the cabin really helped us feel like we were actually getting away on vacation. No phones. No internet. It was blissful. Well, it was blissful for me, who stayed at the cabin at all times to gestate my fetus and to sometimes take care of my niece and nephew. Others had a less relaxing time, as they packed their days with rigorous, rugged activities. And where there was a mountain experience to be had, Murray was always at the front of the line volunteering.

Almost as soon as we arrived at the cabin, my dad and Captain Fabuloso got ready to go fishing. They invited Murray along and he readily accepted that invitation. Unfortunately he had the wrong footwear, so they outfitted him with a pair of cowboy boots and gave him a fishing hat to make him official. He proudly wore the fishing hat for the rest of his mountain activities to show the change from "City Murray" to "Mountain Man Murray."

Here's Murray and Dad and Captain F back with their catch. What a catch!!


Here's Murray cleaning the fish.


From this picture, I bet you can guess that Murray didn't participate in the licking of guts like El Senor did.


The next day, almost everyone went out on the horses, and Murray, who had never ridden a horse on his own before, also participated. Once again, I stayed home and gestated. Please note that he is still a mountain man because he is still wearing the mountain man hat.


During the horse ride, my sil told my mom about Jim Bridger's cabin, that was 3/4 the way up the mountain side. He'd built it with a couple of men who wanted to trap with him. They chose their strategic location because it was too steep for horses to access, and it would give them a lot of time to prepare in case Indians ever wanted to go after them. And to my understanding, the Indians were never that dumb anyway.

My mom absolutely wanted to hike to Jim Bridger's cabin herself, and Richie decided he'd go, too. Murray, not to be outdone by his mother-in-law (grandmother of 2.6), signed up for the adventure, too. My sil warned them again and again that it wasn't a nice little hike, and there was no trail, and that it was pretty awful. But the party insisted on finding the cabin, so we let them go.

Several hours later, they came back with their tale to tell. Richie was the only one who ever made it up to the cabin. By the time the mountain slope got to be about 80 degrees, my mom and Murray were exhausted and no longer really had the desire to conquer the mountain or see Jim Bridger's cabin. They'd been gone for hours, and the hike up to the cabin would take another hour at least, of simply scrambling up the mountainside.



The return trip wasn't as easy as they thought either, since the mountain was so steep. Mom and Murray came down the mountain mostly on their butts.


After his mountain adventure, though, I was able to care for and nuture my manly mountain man. He deserved all that pampering and more! I am now certain that if Murray and I were lost in the wilderness, he'd be prepared to take care of us and fight for our survival.