Now I've always had a nose for sniffing out socially transgressive ideas and experiences, so it was no surprise when an old high school friend invited my family along on a "Summer Solstice Retreat" at the wilderness destination, Breitenbush Hot Springs.
I was born and raised in Portland, Oregon so a little weirdness is in my blood. Notwithstanding that, I was also raised in a pretty culty religion, so the idea of nature, vegetarian food and celebrating the sun with other similarly inclined naturalists suited me fine.
Tobias being Danish added just the dash of European liberalism needed to make this a great idea for our family's summer solstice. Espen, being a captive audience and fond of his parents, was loaded into the car and shuttled off towards The Wild.
On the way down the road, we briefed him on the impending festivities.
"So we are going to Breitenbush, honey. It's a very magical place in the old trees where people don't wear a lot of clothing and there are hot pools of water from Mother Earth to play in."
Espen looked out the window and nodded benignly. "Ok, mama." No big deal. Cause you know, when you've been around the world and hung with Naked Danes in the Dead of Winter, a little temperate, summertime nudity ain't no thang.
After hurtling down I-5 for approximately 10 minutes, Espen decided he no longer wished to be captive. Howling commenced.
As a fun aside, I've been retraining my brain to come out of a limbic cycle of perpetual fight or flight for the last two months and while I've made a great deal of progress in the process of re-educating my brain to believe that life is not actually trying to kill me constantly, my four year old princeling can make my brain forget everything it has learned in about 5 minutes of solid hollering. I am always amazed by this.
In went my earplugs and up went the volume on his manic Danish kids music. And so we progressed towards our Forest Frolic.
An hour later, we drove alongside the North Santiam River, Espen hollered out by this time and stuffing his face with Tobias' Emergency Trail Mix--which now glittered the entire back of the car and much of the front due to his newfound skill of hurling projectiles and general disdain of his Errant Parents.
I love the drive up this corridor. As a child, Hwy 22 marked the coming of Saturday Jesus summer camp at Big Lake. As an adult, the soon appearance of Mystical Breitenbush.The mists were hanging low over the river and trees clutched the sides of vertiginous canyon walls. I pointed this out to Espen. He demanded that the explosion of trail mix be removed from his space immediately.
"Mama, take this AWAY!" he gestured meaningfully around his lair.
"Babe, you did that all by yourself. You can do it again when we arrive at Breitenbush."
He was not impressed by my laissez-faire attitude about housekeeping on the road. Somehow, however, he decided to refrain from commenting until we turned onto the Breitenbush road.
This road is part of building the Breitenbush Experience. It's very rustic and very gravelly and very filled with potholes of indeterminate depth and intention. Espen was thrilled.
He craned his neck to look at the towering trees above.
Whispered with church like reverence.
"Mama, is THIS Frightenbush?"
Tobias and I looked at each other. Tried to keep straight faces while simultaneously attempting to determine if the other had planted such a seed in the child. We both shook our heads. That was all him.
But an answer must be had. So.
"Uh, well, yes honey. I suppose it is. Nearly."
Espen sighs happily.
"I love Frightenbush. I want to stay here with the nudies forever."
And of course, I'm imagining him declaring his fidelity to Frightenbush and The Nudies with great feeling and volume in the midst of all the bushy nudies in the hot pools. Clearly so is Tobias.
And yet. From the mouth of babes...
We said nothing.
But Espen sure did.
A day into the adventure, we're on our way to the hot springs pools and there are a lot of Very Impressive Bushes. I mean, it's the middle of the ancient forest for Hippiesake and people are clearly proud of their hirsute values. Espen is once again transfixed.
"Mama, look at her hairs! She's so fuzzy!"
I should have been prepared, but he had a point. She is. They all are really.
You know it's one thing to see a single lion but another thing entirely to see an entire GROUP of them all together at once. You just have to behold the glory. No talking. Just glory.
Espen pulled on my hand.
"Mama, why are there so many fuzzy people at Frightenbush?!"
If I'd had a mic, I would've just dropped it there and called it a Good Solstice.
