how do you spell camping?

 n-o-s-l-e-e-p.  Kidding. Sort of. If I could have curbed my semi-conscious nightmares (Liesel being suffocated by sleeping bags. Liesel rolling all over the tent. Liesel's eyeballs freezing) then I actually would have gotten a great sleep since L only woke up once. All-in-all, we had an awesome time backpacking to Holly Lake in Paintbrush canyon (6.5m up). Check out the view from our campsite (above).

 I know I can't go a post without mentioning the wildflowers. Enough already. But seriously, I can't help it. I'm addicted to knowing their names, their bloom time and their business. 

 

Does it still count as backpacking when the tent, sleeping bags, sleeping pads, pots, pans, stove, utensils, tarps . . . are already there? I think yes. Especially since I'm carrying two days of wet and dry diapers, binkies, baby clothes, my clothes and food. Oh, and a huge baby. 

Brian arrives at Holly Lake. Angela pauses for a photo op. 

I want thaaat. Liesel trying to get in the grub. 

L went to bed at 8pm. Meanwhile B and I ate Thai peanut noodles, lemon herb tea, jumped on snow bridges and watched the sun set on the peaks. 

All things must go in mouth. Sticks? Check. Rocks? Check. Dirt? Check. The really disgusting tarp that's been in the cache since 1988? Check. 

We forgot her beanie, so she had to borrow Brian's. But, DANG that's adorable.

The next morning somebody wanted to be up with the birds at 6:10am. Who can resist that face?

Sunrise looking down canyon.  

We parted ways. A hiked down and B went up: