Giants of the North

A few weekends ago we were able to escape the Busy and go camping in Santa Clara county, where our college son was playing in a sevens rugby tournament, which is very different from rugby played with fifteen players. Happily, it is not as rough. And the games are very short!  This tournament was the "Jesuit Cup," and so we stopped in Los Gatos to pick up our friend, a retired Jesuit priest to watch some of the tournament with us. He really enjoyed it, I think, as did we all, although our team, Notre Dame (not Jesuit but still invited), placed second to Boston College.

Since this was a spur of the moment trip, we budget-traveled, and spent two nights at a county park that was absolutely beautiful. In the middle of a redwood forest, the sites were somewhat isolated and the park was nearly deserted the first night. A few more campers surrounded us the second night, including a guy and his pit bull in the spot two sites over. My husband and nine year old were ready to pack up and head home when they saw the pit bull, but he was pretty quiet and was kept tied up.  The only stop the camp ranger made on his nightly tour was at our campsite to politely remind us to keep our fire from getting out of control. (We had bought some old dry wood to burn).

I didn't take many pictures. We arrived during a light mist, spent the day at the rugby pitch, took only one short hike, and left the campground early for Mass. But we did have two delicious dinners of hotdogs, beans, and s'mores.  It was a very short, but sweet trip, reminding me of how much I love the intensity of connection around a campfire.