Our very last weekend in Fargo we took a break from all the craziness that is involved with moving, and fulfilled one of the things on my "Fargo Bucket List." We went to Itasca. (So not in Fargo, but much closer than we may ever be again!)
For those history buffs out there, the name "Itasca" was not the original name given by Native Americans in the area (surprise, surprise). The name was coined by the first white man to find it. It is a combination of two Latin words: veritas ("truth") and caput ("head"). There is a contingent that argues that Lake Itasca is not really the actual origin of the Mississippi, that it is one of the several streams that feed the lake. But other famous rivers (i.e. the Nile) follow the same "rule" that the Mississippi does; their official origin is considered a lake, not one of the lake's feeder streams.
Anyway... back to our trip.
We headed out first thing Friday morning (which with little ones means about 9am). Jane fell asleep in the truck and when she woke up we were driving through trees. Driving through trees always makes me feel happy and reminds me of home. Apparently it doesn't have the same affect on Jane. When she woke up and looked around she exclaimed: "I can't see! I can't see! The trees block my way! I can't see!" Keith and I both took that as a sign that it was time to move. ;)
When I had made reservations back in January I had picked a "cart-in" site. I didn't want another camping experience where we are surrounded by RVs and loud generators. Keith was a good sport and pulled the cart back and forth. He has had a lot of experience at pulling handcarts after all.
I have to mention that I can not make a meal while camping and not have flashbacks to when Mom would make super yummy camping meals. I especially remember her laying out bread on the Ford tailgate and putting on sandwich fixings like a factory assembly line. Seven of the best sandwiches I have ever had. She did that countless times on countless family vacations. I didn't really appreciate the effort involved. So thanks Mom. Thanks for making those family trips all the better by your culinary efforts.
Down the stream just a bit the water narrows considerably and there is a little place to cross there. The current is a bit faster there, so although it would have been neat to take five steps across the Mississippi River, I was a bit worried about the kiddos getting pushed over. They had way more fun wading around right where the river flows out of the lake anyway. Even if they did walk back in wet clothes and wear practically nothing on the short drive back to camp.
Itasca was the little reprieve I needed before moving chaos reached it's peak. It felt good. So very good. In a sense I felt as if I could really breathe for the first time in weeks. It is always hard to pack up and head home from wonderful vacations. This one seemed extra hard because I was returning home just to say good-bye.