My friend and I have been talking about the hikes we want to take this spring and summer with his girls (and every once in a while without). This led to conversation about our favorite hikes, and what we did for fun when we were kids.

My cousin Stephen, now in his mid-thirties, used to call what we did "hiking and laking". As in, "Uncle Roy, are we going to go hiking and laking again soon?" My father (Roy) seemed to be the one in charge of planning all the hikes, since he had grown up hiking the Highway 2 corridor west of Stevens Pass. That, and he had to be in charge. Period.

My aunt Marcia, Steve's mom, preferred to call these hikes "forced marches". This had mostly to do with my father's penchant for leaving early, hiking steadily, and getting home in time to have part of the day for yet another project or activity. Getting up at the "crack of Roy" was just par for the family course. Didn't everyone get up at 6am, get on the road by 7 and hit the trail at 8:30? Didn't everyone eat their sack lunches at the waterfall?

Despite these often urgent and fractious trips, I learned to love the outdoors. There was no better day than one that involved hiking to a lake or river, swimming until we were exhausted, and then getting a Zeke's cheeseburger basket. Now I can share that with Glen and his girls. No one should grow up without eating at least a dozen Zeke's burgers.

Hiking and laking lives on. Carpe lacus!