Whoops: a Lost Batch of Pics

Hey folks.

Okay, so this doesn't happen often:  Yours Truly forgot a series of pictures from the last couple months, that were on a different SD Card and somehow were overlooked during the uploading process.  No idea how that happened.  Most of them are from our weekend canoeing trip out at Rita's parents' place in Evart, and in addition to those, I also got a series of pics (courtesy of Dropbox) from Ryan from our recent hiking trip along the Manistee River. 

All in all, a bunch of bullshit that should've been shared before, so I'm doing so now.

Enjoy.

One morning, in late July, I believe (it's been awhile), I woke up to a crazy sound outside my window.  I didn't recognize it at all, and last time I heard something weird and unrecognizable on a summer morning, it was on account of a flood.  I jumped out of bed and followed the noise, and found this.

This poor bastard was firing both engines (or whatever they are), trying either to slow his descent into our neighborhood or else keep his balloon in the air.  I'm not a balloonologist, so I couldn't tell you for sure.

Eventually he was able to land the thing safely about two blocks up the street (our neighborhood Facebook page - yes, we have one - posted all about it later in the morning.)  Midland is so easily excited.

From the Canoeing Trip in Evart

As previously discussed, this was a hunting cabin, belonging to Rita's parents, that we stayed in for a weekend back in August.  No electricity and scant running water, deep in the woods outside of Evart, MI.

The 'backyard,' so to speak, and a perilously derelict back porch that no one was brave enough to venture out upon.

Our 'dining room' table, that more or less only got use when people sat down to play cards.

Our bonfire area (we only made a fire the second night we were there, as you'll see in a bit.)

The fresh sand you see here was dumped in after a trenching company came by - a week early, as it were - to dig out (or 'install,' whatever - I'm not a plumber) water and refuse lines so that the cabin could get full running water service.  A little too late, fellas.

This ranger was my preferred way of travel throughout the weekend.  These things are ridiculously fun to drive around.

We loaded up trash (see pizza boxes, above) on the back rack to take up to the house from time to time.

Abby.

A girl and her faithful sidekick.

Playing catch in the 'driveway' in front of the cabin.

The girls - and Watson - stumble upon a butterfly.

The view from the front of the cabin.

Chasing after the dog.  Again.

Periodically, throughout the weekend, I'd take the girls out for a spin.  To our credit, we only got stuck once, and that was only because I accidentally had the parking brake in place and we couldn't crest a hill (in my defense, however, the parking brake had a tendency of slipping in place, so it wasn't entirely my fault - I'm not an idiot.)

The front porch of the cabin (and some creepy-ass totem pole.)

Kris enjoys some kid-less downtime and a drink, prior to heading up to Rita's parents' house for dinner.

Saturday evening, following our canoeing adventure and some much-needed showers, Smitty arrived and Rita's dad started grilling up a ridiculous amount of food.  Rita's folks designed this adobe bar, built in stucco right off the side of their house, directly off their favorite watering hole in Mexico.  The attention to detail is pretty impressive.

As previously mentioned, Smitty had been a no-show up until this point, as two days before he had jumped off a ladder and landed directly on a nail (he works in construction.)  The nail had pierced the sole of his shoe and gone directly through his foot, so he was on a crap-load of antibiotics and couldn't really be frolicking around in a frickin' river. 

Rita.

Nagatha Christie.

'Merica.

Some local, fresh-picked fruit, and Caldwell's Pillar of Iron, my current read.

The usual from the Cannonball. . .

Watson stands guard, ever vigilant.

Smitty brings up groceries for dinner.

Our lone campfire of the weekend.  Fortunately the weather was awesome for it.

My roommates (Abby scans the radio for a decent station - apparently she's not fond of Z93.)

Ah, a Mother's Love. . .

The Manistee River Hiking Trip

Our weary band of heroes, about six hours into the first day's leg of the trek, soldiering on despite sore knees and legs.

Having spent an hour, running on fumes, chopping, hacking and sawing down trees for firewood.

An hour or so later, camp established and a sound fire blazing. 

The next morning, the air so cold that steam was rising off the Manistee River.

Kyle's tent.

Yours Truly, freezing his ass off in his hammock.

Morning over the Manistee.

This is the bend in the river that the pack of coyotes had attempted to cross the night before, most likely to slaughter us in the night.

- Brian