McKay and Crystal acted as pack mules for most of our hike, those strong, strong people.
As you can see, baby bump is now obvious!
McKay helped his Dad get a log off the roof of their cabin in the mountains (I guess the log once had a purpose up there, but now it. . . um, doesn't?). I was not super happy about this. My threat to him was that if he fell off, I would get to name the baby Lincoln if it's a boy. He did not fall off, and I'm still saying "Lincoln" as many times as I can possibly work it in the conversation until McKay gets used to it.
Right before we left the cabin, McKay, his dad, and I went shooting.
(Please pretend you can't see a strip of my preggo pants stretchiness. K? K.) I love shooting normally, but the World War II rifle turned out to be a bit more than I could handle. That thing was dang heavy, I couldn't even load the barrels, and consequently jammed it about five times. I finally managed to take one shot (I missed), and got a nice bruise on my arm, since the butt (but?) of the gun slid down my shoulder and the kick was quite strong.
I let the boys have fun with it after that. I'll stick to guns made in the last fifty years. Or the ones in the shooting gallery at Disneyland.
Sadly, these are all the photos we took in Colorado, as our camera battery was almost dead to begin with, and we forgot to bring the charger. Oops!
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