A Large Moth

Amy and I did our best to expose our kids to the wonders and beauty of our country. From the Great Smoky Mountains to the Rocky Mountains, from the Black Hills and Badlands to the coast of Maine, we loved spending time outdoors hiking and camping.

Our trips, however, always seemed to be blessed with funny and irreverent moments that other families did not seem to share. For example, on one occasion, Amy was taking a shift driving through Iowa on our way to Rocky Mountain National Park. The Ford Expedition was packed to the gills with provisions so much so that we added a car top carrier for the extra toys and games we might need on our trip.

As we were tooling down the freeway at 70 mph, one of the kids suddenly noticed there was a basketball and volleyball bouncing behind the car in the middle of the freeway. Given we were the only non-semi in the vicinity, we assumed something must have happened to our car top carrier.

Amy quickly pulled over to the side of the road to verify these items were from our car. Upon inspection, the lock on the car top carrier had failed and we were lucky only to have lost a couple of items. A quick detour to the nearest town for bungie cords fixed the problem, but once again, the incident created another indelible memory.

Our trip to Glacier National Park a few years earlier, however, was one of our more memorable trips. The first day of travel was a harbinger of things to come as we had to navigate severe weather through the Twin Cities on our way to the first night’s campground near Fargo. Our goal the second day was to reach Nashua, Montana before completing our drive to Glacier National Park.

Our reservation the second night was for El Rancho Campground just outside of the town of Nashua, Montana. As we pulled into the “campground” we realized it was little more than someone’s front lawn with a Porta-John in the yard. After a quick consultation with our travel partners, we mutually agreed there was no way we were staying there. We renamed the place “El Roncho” and decided to drive an extra 45 minutes to an Army Corp of Engineer campground on Fort Peck Lake.

The unanticipated extra 45-minute drive made the passengers unruly and impatient after a long day’s drive, but we arrived at the campground and were lucky enough to procure two sites. While I set up our popup camper, Amy took the kids exploring to the dam and the playground just a few campsites away.

Later that night after dinner, we had the opportunity to relax around a small fire. As dusk descended, we noticed that a few bats began to dive bomb our campsite. They were obviously feeding on the local mosquito population, but it made us nervous as they literally flew within inches of us as we sat around the campfire.

What made us particularly nervous was that a woman in Wisconsin had just been bitten by a bat that summer and developed rabies. Her case was covered extensively by the media as doctors used an untested method to fight the virus. They suppressed her brain function giving her immune system time to attack the virus. She is the only known survivor of the rabies virus that had progressed to its later stages.

As the light faded, we decided to return to our campers for the night to avoid the bats and get a good night’s rest before the last leg of our drive to Glacier National Park.

As per usual, about 2:00 AM in the morning, nature called. I sleepily left the camper for the outdoor facilities. When done, I returned to the camper and snuggled back into my sleeping bag next to Amy. She and the kids were fast asleep.

As I attempted to drift back off to sleep, I felt a disturbance in the force.

I opened my eyes to take in the darkness. At some point, I thought I detected a blur whip by my face. When it happened for a second time, I woke Amy. “What?” she asked.

“Do you see a large moth flying by our heads?” I asked. She paused and waited. The next time it passed, she screamed “That’s a bat!”

I jumped out of bed to turn the light on. With the recent story of the young woman from Fond du Lac fresh in our minds, we yelled at the kids to crawl to the bottom of their sleeping bags and stay there.

I grabbed the broom that was sitting by the door and with one foot holding the door open tried to direct the bat out of the camper. If I only had video of the chaos of me trying to swat the bat out the door, I am sure it would have garnered thousands of views on YouTube. After only a few minutes, the bat escaped our camper, and we all breathed a sigh of relief.

The rest of the trip was uneventful, and beautiful. Highlights included a hike up to a mountain lake, whitewater rafting, and a drive up the Going to the Sun Road.

On the rafting trip, the guide offered everyone an opportunity to take a swim at one point. Claire, our swimmer, wanted to go in and Amy felt obligated to join her. When Amy jumped into the river, the ice-cold water took her breath away. She surfaced and let out a scream. I am not sure what she expected, but the water was probably ice just a few hours earlier and the shock was unexpected.

As I recall these trips, I find myself extremely grateful for the funky and unusual moments. It is interesting that I remember and cherish these moments more than the breathtaking views and scenery.

I wouldn’t trade them for anything. Embrace the weirdness, they are memories etched in gold.