Return to the River

Crayfish, turtles, and snakes— they were as much a part of our camping weekend as the campfires, tents, and trains.

For the second June in a row, our family camped on the banks of the Juanita river for a weekend. This year, because of the dry spring, the river was much lower than last year. My nieces and nephew spent hours wading and swimming in the shallow water.

Cordell said, “Almost every big rock has a crayfish under it if you turn the rock over.”

Several of us were standing in the river when we saw a small queen snake (which like to eat baby crayfish) poking its head out of the water a few feet away. Mom decided to go back to the campfire.

On Sunday morning, Mom, Brenda, and I went for a walk, pushing Adam in a stroller. About a half-mile from the campsite, a dead black snake lay smashed flat on the road. Just after that, a second black snake poked its head out of tall grasses by the side of the road.

Like the priest and Levite, we passed by on the other side.

A few hours later, a milk snake slithered up the tree in the center of the campsite’s picnic table. Cordell caught the snake by its head so it couldn’t bite him and after everyone had a look, he released the snake back into the wild.

Cordell caught the snake, but having Shiloh along was like camping with an eagle-eyed wildlife biologist. He found a wood turtle, classified as an endangered specifics and showed it to all of us.

After we admired the wood turtle, the boys returned it to the woods. Later, Shiloh found two other turtles on a small island in the middle of the the river. He released them into the water and told the screaming girls, “They’re coming your way! I can see them swimming!” (Maybe not quite like a professional biologist.)

Shiloh also discovered some half-grown rabbits hopping around, and some of the children picked up the bunnies and held them for just a few minutes.

Bennet couldn’t go catching crayfish or swimming— he had broken his leg in a tricycle accident a few days earlier and couldn’t get his cast wet. Family members played games with him, read stories, and sometimes carried him down to the river to toss rocks in.

Besides splashing in the river and finding wildlife, we experimented with outdoor cooking like “campfire doughnuts”. We speared Pillsbury biscuits on hot dog sticks and rotated them over the fire. Usually one side got charred and the other part stayed gooey, but we dipped in melted butter and cinnamon and sugar and ate them anyway.

On Sunday, Beriah and I cooked two of the crayfish, just to see how they tasted.

Two crayfish have only enough meat for a few people to have a nibble (no one else seemed to mind). The crayfish tasted much like other shellfish— next time I’ll pack Old Bay seasoning.

The trains on the double railroad tracks not far from the campsite chugged past on an average of several times an hour. My littlest niece, Eva, eagerly watched the tracks. “Train? Train?” Her parents say Eva hates the noise of the blender and vacuum cleaner, but apparently a freight train is okay.

Next week, a few of us going on another wilderness adventure further away— ten days in Alaska!

Too bad Shiloh is too young to come with us. Or maybe it’s for the best— he might find a grizzly bear.