How you get there

We brought a canoe to the lake, but the boys just wanted to run. Tracking was a hit for a little while because, it turns out, moose and wookie prints are uncannily similar. But with the volume set at shriek, there was no question of spotting either species. I couldn’t sell fishing even with fresh-caught worms. Trapping water-type Pokemon, however, was worthy of their attention. And they eventually made use of the fly rods too… as bad-guy detectors and laser cannons.

Little boy entropy had lain waste my vision of father–son sporting adventure before the first rod was rigged. Luckily, I had a moment of quiet to wrestle with my disappointment before it got the better of me.

Quiet?!

A quick scan of the lakeshore found all three boys huddled on their haunches, craning their necks and jockeying for position to peek between two boulders. There, peering back from the shade, was an equally quiet gopher snake.

“You know,” said Latane surveying the scene, “It’s not exactly what I had in mind, but if they want to run around screaming about Pokemon, who am I to judge? It’s summer. They’re in the mountains. And one way or another they’re making a cool connection. Who cares how they get there?… So long as they get there.”

“Fair enough,” I agreed. “Should we take advantage, sneak off and dunk some worms before we have to deal with a snakebite?”

“Damn straight.”