Rock Canyon Hike, Part 1: The Sprint (x 300)

Six wild, little boys, ages six and under + one house that used to feel huge + six decrepit, old, worn out phogies = many, many, many, many, many, very necessary excursions in the great outdoors.

On this particular outdoor adventure, we substituted one six-year-old Bronson (Jarem's nephew), who fit right into the melee of boys, for one baby Gideon (Sara's baby), who wisely opted to tag along with his milk supply mommy. Also not to be forgotten, one very manly dog answering to the name of Cash. And with these odds, let's just say I was feeling quite content at my post behind the camera, documenting the testosterone fest from afar.

At the start of our hike, we happened upon this lovely, rusted-orange bridge and proceeded to run something like 352 sprints back and forth toward Aunt Ewizabef and her snapping camera. The following images are my personal favorites. I love that they absolutely ooze childhood delight and joy and reckless abandon.