Shall we gather at the river...

This weekend we returned to Cold River. It was the first "Crew Reunion," and since Ethan and Peter met there fifteen years ago, it seemed fitting that we go with the Hipples "for old times sake." About 40 former crew members attended. The oldest and largest contingency was a group of men who were on crew in 1944. They didn't hike, but were in fabulous form and had many good stories to share. There were a few of us youngsters there, but we spent most of our time with Sarah, Ethan, Jackon and Tasha. Reading stories by the fire, playing ball in the field, staying up late playing cards, hiking, swimming (if you can call screaming into an icy stream and crawling out as fast as possible "swimming"). Jasper hiked the entire 3.6 miles up and down Blueberry Hill happily. He even carried five pounds of rocks in his backpack, intent on building a Gnome Home on the summit. Since Josie didn't have her Oma with her, she adopted a Nana, making fast friends with most of the older ladies. One highlight was watching Jackson and Jasper perform "break dancing moves" at the Talent Show. No words can describe. Several times over the weekend we remarked on what a turning point Cold River Camp was for Peter and Ethan. If Ethan hadn't been there, he may not have found his way to New Hampshire, or Sarah. If Peter hadn't spent his summer there, the Whites may not have worked their way into his heart with such permanence. And he certainly would not have been dashing enough to turn my head. Thank goodness for the goodness of Cold River.