YM Camp Adventures: Into the Gargantuan Caves

When John and Nate packed up for YM camp, they weren’t signing up for the cushy, marshmallow-roasting version of camping. Nope. This was the roughing it variety: backpacks stuffed with their own food, gear slung over their shoulders, and a trek that promised to test both their stamina and their nerves.

The highlight? Exploring the Gargantuan caves. Now, “Gargantuan” might conjure up images of a wide, welcoming cavern with echoing ceilings. But don’t be fooled. These caves were less “cathedral of stone” and more “hope you’re comfortable crawling through holes the size of a raccoon tunnel.” The boys wriggled, squeezed, and shimmied their way through the dark, tight places (one narrow called the "birth canal"), with only headlamps and adrenaline to guide them.

Back at home, however, things were less adventurous and more… anxious. By 11:00 p.m., there was still no word from the cave explorers. No text. No call. Just silence. You can imagine how that sat with the parents. Did I consider calling 911? Did the words “search and rescue” start dancing in my mind? Maybe. (Okay, yes.)

Fortunately, just as I was mentally preparing to alert the authorities, word finally came: the boys had made it out. Safe, exhausted, and probably caked in enough mud to start their own pottery studio.

Turns out, YM camp was not only about survival skills in the wilderness, but also about teaching parents back home how to breathe deeply, stay calm, and maybe not jump straight to emergency protocols.

In the end, the caves were conquered, memories were made, and no actual search and rescue units were deployed. (This time.)

Girls Weekend - With Grayson

All summer long, we talked about going camping as a family. But summer did what summer does—it filled itself up with projects, trips, and a hundred little things that made “family camping” slip further and further away. By mid-August, Jess and I looked at each other and realized: if we waited for everyone, we’d never go. So, we carpe’d the heck out of that diem, waved goodbye to the boys, and claimed the one lone campsite left in Waterton. (Remember, I’ve committed myself to saying yes to whatever adventures my kids invite me on.) 

We set up camp like pros (honestly, we impressed ourselves), and soon Grayson joined us for a hike up to Bertha Falls. Fresh mountain air + laughter + the sound of rushing water = therapy you can’t buy.

Dinner? A straight-up feast. Corn on the cob roasted over the fire, baked potatoes tucked in the coals, and juicy beef chunks cooked on roasting sticks like the world’s fanciest marshmallows. Pioneer women, but make it gourmet.

And because no day in Waterton is complete without dessert, we strolled down to the lake and polished it all off with Beavertails. Sticky fingers, happy hearts.

The night ended with Jess and I talking long into the dark, our tent lit only by laughter and whispered stories. Eventually, we dozed off—content, grateful, and maybe a little proud that we pulled it off.

Quality time with my girl. Honestly, I couldn’t ask for more.

August: Creek Walks, Cooking Shows & A Fence Mirac

August, in all its hot, hazy, glorious chaos, gave us plenty to remember.

Sam Update: Our Arizona missionary is thriving, and by the end of August he’ll be down to just three months left. How did that happen so fast? I swear he just left last week.

The Summer of Saying “Yes”: I made a vow: if my kids invite me to do something, I will go—no questions asked. So, when Nate suggested golf ball hunting in a murky creek (read: minnows, slime, and possible snakes), I grabbed my shoes and went. Would I normally love this? No. Did I love the time with Nate? Absolutely! I had to pretend to be chill about it and hide my excitement. 

(Oscar-worthy performance, if I do say so.)

Cooking Show Era: Thanks to my garden’s miraculous rebound post-hailstorm, I had enough produce to dive into my “cooking show ERA.” Inspired by Meghan Markle (don’t laugh), I cooked my way through dishes I’d seen her make. Basically, I’m ready for my own Netflix deal now.

Edmonton Adventures: Jessica, Grayson, and I hauled a truckload of her belongings north to her new rental. We cleaned, fixed, and spruced things up until it felt like home. Abby joined us for dinner, a High Level Bridge walk, and some exploring of the Legislature grounds. Yard work was included in the “fun.” (College kids: can’t live with them, can’t stop hauling stuff for them.)

The Fence That Almost Wasn’t: John swore he didn’t want to build a fence. Then—miracle of miracles—he did. And he even let me “help” on one or two days. I’m practically a carpenter now.

Hot Tub Progress: John also extended the patio to make sure our hot tub is up to code. We’re now one step closer to full soak-mode. Only minor details left… like finding the leak and plumbing the whole thing.

One Paddleboard Night: Just one, all summer long. But it was glorious. Jess, Grayson, and Radar came along, which always makes it better.

MRI Day: I had my screening MRI in Lethbridge (pancreatic stuff… still can’t say the “C” word). My nerves were eased by Jessica, who came along and sat through the wait. While in that big noisy tube, I prayed for each of my kids. Loud machine, quiet prayers—it balanced out.

Paisley Sighting: Sam’s former girlfriend, Paisley, happened to be in the same temple session as us. Delightful surprise! She swung by afterward, and—naturally—we trapped her into staying longer and eating pizza. That’s basically the Hardy family brand.

So, August in a nutshell: kids, fences, food, creeks, medical machines, and pizza with surprise guests. Honestly, not bad at all.

Youth Citizen of the Year

Heritage Week brought all kinds of fun, but the biggest surprise of all? Jessica was named Youth Citizen of the Year! Yep, that’s right—our girl went full small-town celebrity status. One day she’s playing ball and sorting out life plans, the next day she’s shaking hands with the mayor and waving from a float like she’s royalty.

But here’s the part that makes the story golden: the nomination came from none other than her softball coach, Rylan Schaffer. Which is sweet enough on its own… except then the town went and named him “Citizen of the Year.” So there they were: coach and player, mentor and mentee, cruising down parade day in back-to-back glory.

Honestly, it couldn’t have been scripted better. Two people who pour so much into their community ended up being honored side by side. Pretty perfect if you ask me.

So, congratulations Jess—you’ve officially peaked before 20. Good luck topping a mayoral handshake and a float wave. 😉

A Sunday Picnic - {August 2025}

Some Sundays just call for something special. A few weeks back, I decided to put in the effort and make a proper feast—smoked ribs, baked beans, and creamy mac n’ cheese. The kind of meal that feels more like a hug than just food. The plan was to pack it all up and head to Waterton, where we could share a Sunday dinner with Jess and Grayson.

By the time we pulled into Waterton, it felt like half the town had the same idea. We circled and circled before finally laying claim to one of the last available picnic tables. Victory!

With our “feast” set up, we tucked into the ribs, beans, and mac n’ cheese. The flavors were smoky, rich, and absolutely worth every minute of prep. There’s something about eating outside—with the mountains all around and the people you love sitting across from you—that makes everything taste even better.

Halfway through, a little rain shower rolled through, just enough to keep us on our toes. But it didn’t stop us. If anything, it added to the memory—the smell of rain mingling with smoke and ribs, laughter rising above the patter of raindrops, and that cozy feeling of sharing a meal with family.

Busy weekend or not, it was exactly the pause we needed. Delicious food, great company, and the beauty of Waterton wrapped it all up into one of those perfect little Sundays that stick with you.

July: A Month of Highs, Lows, and Laughs

This July was one for the books—a mix of beauty, heartbreak, and plenty of stories worth telling.

The Garden and the Hailstorm

Early summer had been a gardener’s dream. With the generous rains, crops in the area were thriving, and my own garden was a daily source of joy. Everything seemed to flourish. But on July 27, the sky opened and a massive hailstorm rolled through town. Toonie-sized hail pelted down for ten relentless minutes, leaving its mark. We took damage to our roof, garage, shed, and eavestroughs—but worst of all, my garden was shredded. Standing at the window, praying the glass wouldn’t shatter while watching months of work destroyed in minutes, was heartbreaking. 

Thankfully, July wasn’t all storms. John and I spent an evening out at Payne Lake—he fished while I paddleboarded, read, and played with Radar. Another day, we hiked together to Bertha Falls. I turned back at the falls while John pushed on up to the lake for more fishing. He’s spent a lot of time with his rod this summer (though, if you ask him, it’s never quite enough).

Radar’s Struggles
Radar has been having seizures for a year now, usually only one a month. It never gets easier to watch him go through it. We still don’t know the cause, and my heart aches for him every time.

Nate’s Apology
On a lighter note, Nate gave us all a laugh this month. He went to a party at a friend’s brand-new house and, in true Nate fashion, his flatulence habits got the better of him. His friend retaliated by shoving Nate into a wall—literally. The result? A brand-new hole in the brand-new wall. Nate wrote an apology letter that was apparently so funny and well-written it became the highlight of the evening. Only Nate.

Family Visits
To round out the month, we had a wonderful visit from Jordan, Luci, and the boys. Time with family is always sweet, and it was so nice to have them here.

July was a month of contrast: flourishing and loss, laughter and worry, storms and sunshine. Life always seems to weave those threads together, doesn’t it?