Riding in Bear River National Park.

After waking up at 3:30 on Monday morning for Girl's Camp (here) and running full tilt for the entire week on only 4 or 5 hours of sleep each night, I was exhausted by Friday.

But come Friday The Man was ready to go riding in Wyoming with Uncle Tim and Aunt Shirsten.  And me being the glutton for punishment that I am, didn't want to miss out on the fun.

So I came home from camp, unloaded the girls' stuff from the trailer, took some girls home, unloaded my stuff and my girls' stuff at our house, and with two hours to spare I showered, repacked, and loaded up the girls to meet their dad in Wyoming and we'd meet up with Uncle Tim and Aunt Shirsten.

Running away with The Man is one of my very favorite things to do.  Even if it is just to Evanston.

We bummed around Evanston by our twosome for the evening, doing nothing in particular but enjoying the conversation and being out together.  I'd missed him while I was at camp.

The next morning dawned and we headed over to where Uncle Tim and Aunt Shirsten were staying with friends, and then we headed to Bear River National Park for some riding.

This is honestly what I think of when I think of Wyoming, and it cracked me up when it happened on our way to find the trails.

We found the spot we wanted to ride in and Shirsten mentions that as they had been riding yesterday it was cold and threatened rain all day, but it didn't ever storm.

Which opened up joking about Joe's Valley (here) and knocking on wood that we wouldn't get caught in another storm.

And the gray clouds hovered, and it was a bit cold.  But then the sun would come out in a glorious burst and warm us up, only to cycle back to gray clouds and cold.

We stopped at a creek for a picnic lunch (Shirsten always packs the best food) and we watched a shepherd trying to round up some stray lambs near us.

And then it hit.

The gray clouds burst open in a quick rain and then a hard hail.

And we scrambled to pack up the food in the weather.

And we started racing back to the trucks while being pelted by marble sized hail.

 

I'm hoping this doesn't become a habit while riding with Tim and Shirst, but looking at the budding track record, I think I need to stuff some rain ponchos in the glove box.