Normally vacation means a fair amount of time to read and hunt for books. This is especially true when we install ourselves for two weeks up in Maine. Not sure there is anything more conducive to reading than Maine in the summer. This summer our vacation was slightly, and by slightly, I mean a whole lot more, active than normal. I’ve already posted some pictures of our 5-day whitewater raft trip down the Middle Fork of the Salmon River in Idaho. Normally I take way more books on a trip than I would ever have time for but this time I resisted. The combination of being on the water most of the time and the fact that after the river trip I would be making another pilgrimage to Powell’s City of Books in Portland, Oregon, gave me the confidence to only take TWO books for about 11 days a way from home.
I was right to limit myself. The flight out west was late at night and consisted of more sleeping than reading, and the active and social nature of the river trip made it hard to find time to read. We were just as active in Portland, and despite spending three hours at Powell’s, I didn’t really find much time to read there either.
There were a few choice reading moments, however. One involved a wildly energetic (and hilarious) 12-year old on the river trip who warmed my heart when he joined me one morning as I was reading. I’m not sure I ever inspired any child to read before. He even referred to it later as our reading club.