Two things today.  It rained all day and all night so we hiked to Dripping springs because the Hermit Trail doesn't get all ooshy like the South Kaibab.  A better workout too, because it is so rough.  There appears to be a Red Tailed Hawk nesting around Dripping springs, because we could hear it scream for several minutes.  I think it was feeding its chicks.

The helicopters were really at it.  We counted four in one batch.  They were NOT 1000 feet above the rim, or were they one mile apart.  Also I think the noise scared the Red Tail.

Someone at Dripping springs has discovered that the mud makes a good paint, and the walls were covered with hand prints, names, hearts, and phony pictographs.  The hands aren't so bad, but I spent 10 minutes erasing it all anyway.

So  five year old boy wandered away from his campsite two days ago on the North Rim.  The family was camped at large, not in the developed area, and he was chasing grasshoppers.  There have been bad storms for two days.  They have been searching with dogs and with infrared from helicopters.

I remember when Robbie was wee little I told him if he got lost to stay put.  Searchers find someone who is lost much more easily if the search area is limited.  When we visited the Metropolitan Museum he and his Grandma Marji lost track of us, and Robbie sat down and refused to move until we found him.

I also dressed him in fluorescent colors, usually orange.  I had noticed that people in bright orange ponchos showed up from miles away, and I figured if it worked for hikers, it would work for small children.  Probably explains why he only wears black now.

When we went hiking he always had his own pack with food, water, clothes, and a whistle.  I figured if he strayed he could at least have some basic supplies.  I felt pretty smug about this until one day I rounded a corner and saw Robbie's pack with no Robbie.  I looked up.  He had spotted some rock climbers, threw his pack off, and hied off after them up the cliff.  I can't remember if I made him wear a whistle when we were camping.

This is not to say that this poor family is at fault.  I was just trying to convince myself that even though we took Robbie into the Grand Canyon, and onto 14'ers and, into geyser areas, and all sorts of places that gave both grandmothers fits, I felt better by setting Robbie up for success.

We were also lucky.  Robbie was capable of taking off at a dead run for reasons known only to himself, and it is just luck that he never did so in a wilderness area.  In stores, many times, yes.  I recall when he was trying on a pair of shoes which were clipped together with a plastic tag to keep people from stealing one (though why just one?)  Robbie was hobbling around trying to get a feel for the fit when the plastic snapped.  He yelled, "Oh, good, now I can run!' and did so.  Didn't find him for a good ten minutes.

We are fortunate (more spiritually inclined friends would say blessed) that Robbie never managed to completely lose himself.  Given all the odd places we dragged him when he was too young to fight back.  Bad things happen to good people, and we are just lucky it never happened to us, no matter how much we thought we were "prepared".