Enchanted Rock

After our day at Sea World we headed to Enchanted Rock to camp (after a quick stop at my favorite Greek restaurant in San Antonio, of course).  We set up camp and just when I thought Violet would never stop jumping on our air mattress both of our kids fell asleep, and it was glorious.  My kids sleep better in tents than they do in their own beds.  The reason bedtime was so exciting was that Brandon and I had plans to stay up late and take pictures of the milky way.  Instead we fell asleep immediately but my alarm clock (Charlie) got us up in the middle of the night and we were able to do it then.  I would start to describe how cool it was but I'll just let the pictures do that.

More on Brandon's blog.  He took much better pictures than I did.  I wasn't willing to hike up rocks in the dark like he was to get a good shot.

In the morning, we started up the trail to the summit.  I had to carry chunky Charlie the entire way but it was cool, windy, and perfect. On the way I got a taste of what it must have been like to have me as a kid.  My mom always tells me that she feared that I wouldn't survive to maturity because I loved doing dangerous things and well... Violet isn't any different.  I would stop and talk to Brandon for 30 seconds and when we turned around she would be fifty yards away climbing over boulders.  I don't know how that girl gets so far so quickly.

Charlie was pretty heavy to carry up to the top, but at least I didn't have to carry Violet half the way up.

Between spurts of "Mommy, come see this!" Violet got some geology lessons from Brandon and by the end of the hike was pointing out, "Look, quartz!  Look, feldspar!"

Fellow geologists.

Before leaving we strolled over to a little creek where within 30 seconds Violet had taken her pants and shoes off and was stomping through it.

So happy to have eaten.

Violet, getting naked in the stream.

It was a long drive back but punctuated by a brief stop at Cooper's Barbecue in Llano.  Any place that sells meat, by the pound, on butcher paper, dunked in barbecue sauce, from a giant pit, to swarms of people driving Harley Davidsons is bound to be a good restaurant.