Did you guys know this last weekend was the first full weekend in June? Do you know what that means? (Well, besides holy-heck-where-is-the-year-going?!?!)

That’s right – the Crazy Horse Volksmarch! Unlike last year, I wasn’t forced to play pack mule. Or at least not to a child. I still toted my trusty Champion purple back pack (circa 1980s) up to the top loaded with chex mix, m&m’s, granola bars, and “na-na” (fruit snacks for those of you that don’t speak toddler) and a couple large water bottles.

No, this year I brought along slave labor help.

Thanks honey!

We were short a child for this trek. The Boy decided to take a trip to the east side of the state with Grandma & Grandpa to visit the extended family (Grandma’s side). We had all originally intended to go, but our schedules have been so crazy we didn’t feel we could reasonably be gone another extended weekend. But the Boy had a blast and was the toast of the trip from what we hear. In fact, he told us Saturday night that he and Grandpa “tore up” the golf course and that he “whipped” Grandpa. We were just impressed he walked the full 9 holes without a whine to be found.

Oh yeah, I also dragged my mom along on the forced march. It was good for her. Really! If you’re going to live here, you ought to do this once.

And yes, my husband will gladly tell you we tried this Volksmarch the first year I lived here and I swore I would NEVER EVER DO IT AGAIN (along with some other choice words). We had made it up to the last turn to head to the face when they spotted lighting some where in the distance and kicked everyone off the mountain. I was, um, not happy. What can I say? Never say never…

Unlike last year, the weather this time up was hot and sunny. Not a shade granting cloud to be found. Nor hardly a breeze. In fact, later that afternoon the faux-mercury read 87 degrees. *pants* I don’t need more of the snow we had on May 29th, but I could do with a slower ramp up to this heat. (Luckily, in true Hills fashion it will only last a few days.)

Hot and sweaty and ready to head back down. Remember, it’s much farther up than it is down.

And if all else fails, throw a hat over your head and run around making new friends. Zebra striped pants sure help.

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