We loved to go for hikes with Dad when we were up at the cabin. He had explored the forest all around our cabin, and knew the trails and hills and valleys, where the best fishing holes were and where the views were the most magnificent. Sometimes he took us hiking up the mountain across the road from our cabin, and we explored the forest. It was a steep climb, but once on top of the hill we could see all around for miles and miles, and miles. It was like being on top of the world. We found the ruins from someone’s cabin up there, and spent many happy hours imagining who had built it and what it was like when it was new.
Whenever we went for walks we watched for wild flowers to bring home to put in a cup on our table for Mom. We could usually find long stems of red Indian Paint Brush and bunches of little white star flowers that kind of looked like daisies, only much daintier. Sometimes we would find pale purple flowers that reminded us of miniature snap dragons, once in a while we would find bright yellow daisies, or pink blossoms that grew on long, thin stems.
We also collected new pine cones, if they were still brown and not squashed on one side. We tried to find cones with pine nuts in them, but the squirrels had always beat us to them. Sometimes we found whole acorns with the green nut inside, but usually we just found their empty shells.
There were always interesting rocks to examine, then slip into our pockets. The problem with that was we found so many rocks our pockets got heavy and threatened to tear apart.
Sometimes dad would find a place in a pine tree where the sap had dripped out and hardened into pine gum. He would take out his pocket knife and cut it off, then plop it in his mouth and chew it until it softened up and stuck together. When it was good and soft he would give it to us to try. That gum tasted like nothing we had ever chewed before, kind of like turpentine smelled. We never could decide if it was a good taste or not, but it was one that we never forgot!
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