Garner State Park is as pretty as the Texas State Park borchure promised.  The Rio Frio is beautifully pristine despite the scattered signs of civilization left by careless visitors.  The park itself is picturesque, nestled in the craggy Texas hill country and surrounded by small towns with names like Leakey and Uvalde.  Although we didn't drive down to Uvalde, we did drive through Leakey and couldn't help but crack jokes about the Leakey Lions Club and the high-school team named the Leakey Eagles.  Sorry, but I can't believe it's possible to drive through and not wonder what those Leakey Lions do when they meet and can you imagine being the Home of the Leakey Eagles? 

Garner State Park is as pretty as the Texas State Park borchure promised.  The Rio Frio is beautifully pristine despite the scattered signs of civilization left by careless visitors.  The park itself is picturesque, nestled in the craggy Texas hill country and surrounded by small towns with names like Leakey and Uvalde.  Although we didn't drive down to Uvalde, we did drive through Leakey and couldn't help but crack jokes about the Leakey Lions Club and the high-school team named the Leakey Eagles.  Sorry, but I can't believe it's possible to drive through and not wonder what those Leakey Lions do when they meet and can you imagine being the Home of the Leakey Eagles? 

We were to leave at 1:00 PM on Thursday and in typical Adams fashion ended up leaving Austin at 4:30 PM, along with about 500,000 other people on Mopac.  We passed the time by gnashing our teeth at the other drivers and delivering some back-handed accusations to each other over whose fault it was that we were leaving so late:

Chuck:  Well, once again, we picked rush hour to try to get out of Austin.
Me:  Yeah, well I had everything packed by 1:00 PM as promised.
Chuck:  Well, I'm sorry that I had to take care of my clients so I could feed my family.
Me:  Yeah, well I wasn't generating any revenue for the family but I had everything packed by 1:00 PM as promised.
Chuck:  Well, I'm sorry we're leaving during rush hour.
Me:  Yeah, well...
Alex:  I have to use the potty.

We'd been on the road for over an hour by now and had only  reached 45th street, so we decided to stop for dinner and let Alex use the potty.

We finally arrived at the park after dark a little tired and cranky and the kids were wound up after being in the car for several hours.  No time for rest, though; we had a tent to assemble.

Chuck and I get along very, very well.  We rarely argue and never fight.  Having said that, one sure way to get us snapping at each other is when we are trying to choreograph a task that takes the effort of two; like moving furniture, turning over a king-sized mattress, or setting up a tent in the dark.  We just dance to two different styles of music.  Each one of us assumes the other is on the same page and we end up going in two different directions and the next thing you know someone is bleeding because he pushed when she thought he was going to pull.  As God as my witness, it made more sense to pull.

The first night was peaceful and quiet and we didn't have any firewood, but it was late and we were tired so we just slept to the sounds of nature.

The next day arrived with the masses to set up tent cities, string party lights and, it seemed, to arm their vehicle anti-theft devices.  Thus began the seemingly endless song of the SUV.  On all sides, for 2 days and 2 nights, were beeps, chirps, and sirens.  Since our mini-van seemed the only quiet vehicle, I wondered if there was some sort of secret code or communique to which we were not party.   Ah, daybreak in the Texas Hill Country; if you listen closely you can hear the mating call of the SUV.

The guys took a hike and left me to enjoy some relative peace.  They came back sooner than I expected with Chris whimpering because he fell and cut his knee (not badly) and tore his favorite pants.  Chuck treated his wounds and told me about their hike.  It is very steep and rocky terrain and I'm actually surprised they came back with only minor injuries.  Chris wanted to be carried (he never lasts very long on a hike) and Chuck, holding his 40 lb pack, slipped on rocks and fell, cutting his hand as he extended his arm to break their fall while protecting Chris with the other arm.  After they stopped sliding and lay there for a few seconds in silence, Chris finally sighed, "Whew, thank goodness I'm not hurt!"  Yes, Chris, you're welcome.  Daddy will live.

I accompanied them on the next hike and was very surprised that Chuck managed with both boys on his own.  It is VERY steep and rocky.  After what seemed like a continuous choir of "Alex, stay on the path," and "Guys, you''ll waste all your energy climbing that way!"  I was relieved to hear another family coming up the hill with the dad warning "You'll waste all your energy climbing that rock!  Stay on the path!"  Chuck and I just smiled at each other taking comfort in the fact that the boys were witness to at least one other parent who wouldn't let his kid have any fun.

I hate when I have to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night.  I tried to hold it until daybreak, but I just couldn't sleep so I armed myself with a flashlight and ventured out into the dark.  On the way back I caught an armadillo in the beam and the stupid thing ran straight toward the light!  No wonder you usually see them as road kill!  I panicked and started to run but I didn't want to shine the light too close to me and yet I needed it to see so I just flailed it wildly making a sort of disco light affect that I hoped would confuse the rabid predator.  I now admit  maybe that was a little dramatic but I was freaked out.

The Rio Frio is excellent for tubing, but since the boys are still a little young and we forgot our life preservers, we decided to just rent the paddle boat.  Alex was despondent that we only rented one hour instead of two, but once I let him paddle he seemed to be OK with the quicker trip.  I'm just glad he's old enough to paddle. 

The last night was rainy so we decided to pack up and leave first thing in the morning.  As we disassembled the tent - again, one of those 2 person tasks - Chuck had this bright idea to unhook the fly and twirl it around over his head to get the water off.  As he went round and round, looking like some giant whirling parasol, I got a little closer to warn him that the ropes were dragging through the fire pit and getting full of dirt and ash.  I was so focused on the fire pit that I forgot the ropes were spinning and the next thing I knew I was struck near my right eye with one of the grommets at the end of the rope.  I shrieked, more to get his attention than out of pain, and held my hand to my eye.  "You whipped me with the rope!" I exclaimed.  He apologized and kindly reminded me that I was privy to the fact that the ropes were flying through the air and I should have been farther away.

As we left the park, wet, filthy and hungry but happy for the experience, Chuck remembered that it was Mother's Day.  "Happy Mother's Day!"  He smiled, "Can you still use that right eye?"

I love camping.  I really do.  Not too many moms that I know would trade their Mother's Day brunch for 3 days in the woods without a bath.  Don't forget that, guys.