How does the idea sit with you of two young children, a brother maybe 6 years old and a little baby sister still in diapers, forced to confront the adventure of trekking through the wilderness all alone? Not all that well, huh?

Fret not, it's just a narrative comedy film: The Adventure of Jojo (and his annoying little sister Avila). On a car ride to visit their grandma, the car crashes on quiet back road, Mom is either dead or unconscious and there's no one around and there probably won't be for a while. Jojo, still rockin' his pajamas and cowboy boots, takes it upon himself to fetch his little sister Avila from the backseat and hoof it "over the hills and through the woods" to Grandma's house. They ride a river in a barrel, bicker over snacks, encounter a hungry wolf, and fend off a creepy hobo and more. As the film's creator Brian vonSchmidt says, "It's kind of like Milo and Otis but with kids instead of animals."

Child carriers and backpacks are not all that new, but you probably knew that already. The entirety of human history all over the globe show examples of slings, pouches and cradle boards used for hands-free baby transport. However, in 20th-century U.S.A., child carriers were absolutely non-existent. That changed in 1968 with a young Peace Corps volunteer named Ann Moore who witnessed the women in Africa carrying babies and infants in slings on their backs. Moore eventually returned from her service in West Africa, started her own family, and having loved the idea of keeping a hands-free active life while keeping her baby snuggled against her body, she went to the store to buy a baby sling. She couldn't find one, so she designed her own soft carrier, called it the Snugli (link) and practically launched an entire industry.

Kelty came along in 1992 with their iconic kid backpack and you could say the trails of the National Park system haven't been the same since.

And now there's a new, fancier, snazzier pack on the street from Osprey . . .

Down in the ol' grungy southwest U.S., you'd think we'd be more tuned into the upsides of the poncho for our winter kit. Especially for the kids. Ponchos are the warm garment of choice for native Andean folk and other pre-Hispanic cultures of Central and South America. But the poor things get misrepresented and misconstrued from the bad guys with straps of bullets around their chests in old Clint Eastwood flicks, to the late night infomercials extolling the virtues of the blanket with sleeves called the snuggie. Add to that, outdoors folk tend to hear the word poncho and think, "That's a plastic thing inside the pocket of my emergency kit I got for 99 cents in case it rains." It's no wonder we just don't see classier version of ponchos at all.

That's about to change . . .

Yesterday, I took my 4-year old daughter to the gear shop to buy some new warm gloves and hat. Kids being kids, we can only find one left glove out of a total of three pairs she owns. We have some adventures planned this fall and winter so we had resupply this department.

When we arrived, we found a whole 16' row packed full of gloves and hats just for kids. She couldn't contain herself.

My buds bombed my inbox a few times this summer. Several of them hit the backroads of the American west on solo trips, just Dad and the kids. Nearly every one told me some variation of this: "Just got home, bro! I'm beat, exhausted, dirty, smelly, didn't get enough sleep, didn't rest enough, it was more work than it was relaxation, totally kicked my ass, but I'm looking forward to doing that again!"

They so perfectly summed up parenthood, didn't they?

By now, everyone should know about the upsides of bringing a "kid's tent" for a play area. But when is the time right for kids to sleep the whole night in their own tent?

Like many families with super little ones, we like to pack along a small ground tent for the kids to play in during the day. I've secretly been hanging onto the hope that the kids will get this bright idea and go, "We want to camp in here tonight!" But get this - my plan is to say no way. Use it as leverage, and dangle it out in front of them a bit. "Finish your vegetables, then we'll think about letting you two camp in your own tent someday." Yes, I'm playing with fire here. But I want them to want it so bad that their hopes will be sky high. Because, truthfully, I want them to feel so elated and stoked when it finally happens that no bump or noise or coyote howl in the night can possibly spook them back into bed with me. I'm terrible, I know.

Well. Gee. It hasn't worked like that. Go figure. So far it's never occurred to them to want to camp in their own kids-only tent. This isn't going the way I want it to go. Hmph. Should I be surprised? That's practically the pure definition of fatherhood . . .

In April, my wife, Brooke, and I hosted a discussion-presentation on family adventure travel at Overland Expo, and if there's anything that I learned from that, it's everyone has their own wildly varied concerns when it comes to adventure-travel and everyone is different. My absolute favorite came from a young mom with a baby just a few months old who, right away, wanted to dive into how the hell to fix her husband - it was cute and good humored, rest assured. But obviously there was a hint of truth to it . . .

Every parent who wants to get more exercise, keep up with their desire for, say, backpacking, or hit that goal to compete in a triathlon (or insert your own goal), wonders how other parents do it. And the big one, especially for first time parents, is as simple as how do you take a baby camping for the first time? The truth is none of us are experts at this business of juggling family responsibilities with our outdoor pursuits. We're all winging it in different ways because our children are dynamic critters with their own personalities, quirks, and soft spots. And so are we.

Ah! But there's hope, good person. Read on.

Artwork by Seth Neilson

If hanging out outside isn't about food and happiness, then what is it about? I'm sure we all know that the magical combination of graham cracker, chocolate and marshmallow is the near-ultimate manifestation of happiness in food. On my list, s'mores rank third after mint chocolate chip ice cream and my wife's homemade brownies, neither of which can we replicate on a campfire. S'mores have the upper hand there.

If you don't know about the outdoor clothing by Mountain Mama, you probably should. In the simplest terms, Mountain Mama creates stylish and functional clothing for women who enjoy the outdoors. Especially pregnant women. Mountain Mama doesn't stop there, because, well, who could when there are beloved babies involved? The company works with Seth Neilson, a graphic designer, to make this ultra-cute adventure alphabet series of onsies and toddler t-shirts.

You know how it is: there's a little friendly competition among moms and grandmas in the quest for the absolute cutest baby clothes.  We all know it exists, but no one talks about it aloud. You go to grandma's house on Sunday afternoon and she says something like, “I picked up this onesie for you the other day, and it is sooooo cute!”

You look at it, and it says, “I'm kind of a big deal around here.” You laugh, because it is cute.

Well, here's a way to top that.

Nice mustache, Monet

Forget the rules -- no, wait, there are no rules. Do what ever you want. Your trips into the mountains, deserts, and rivers should be fun, free, and so totally, completely, unbelievably awesome that you want to do it over and over and over.

Right?

Right. So.  Here's the secret. Are you listening?

Maybe I lost my patience. Maybe was I right on a few things, maybe I was wrong about some others. Okay, fine, I can handle that.

But somebody out there has a rebuttal for me. Wanna see it?

Clark Griswold would have a hard time keeping up with that babe in the Ferrari if he was in this family.

The Vogel's - mom, dad, and 11-year-old twin boys - hit the road on their bicycles two and a half years ago.  Check out this video from the road in Utah.

Fozzils folding plates for kids with an appetite
We parents likely will never lift the veil from the mystery of how to get our kids to eat, consistently, the good food we've worked hard to prepare at camp. But we still try, right? And the old adage, “presentation is everything” remains one of the techniques; “presentation” having a loose definition, as I'm sure your children and mine share the same preference for food they find on the ground and deny the full plate in front of them.

They're busy folks.  Nathan is in architecture, Marni in management of a civil engineering firm.  Both full time parents of two energetic children Trevor and Megan.  Still they find time to take memorable trips to the outdoors together, and they absolutely radiate with infectious mirth - once again I'm looking at kindred souls I wish were my very own neighbors.

Brace yourself for some big shockers here:
Trevor Woods, age 12, loves catching bugs and lizards, enjoys rocks of all sizes, and climbs everything in sight.
Megan Woods, age 8, loves playing in the dirt, collecting rocks, catching dragonflies, and sitting on Daddy’s lap and steering the Jeep while on the trail.

Put your hands together for the Woods Family.  All four participated in this one.

These kids hardly need language at all - what with there being these totally awesome digging toys for the sand.  Even though Samantha once complained to me that, "I can't understand her.  She talks weird" about this little Mexican girl. Sam is only seven years old, so this turned into a teaching moment.

No camping child is complete without a t-shirt like this.

Are you thinking the same thing I am?  Yeah. Why is that graham cracker missing a tooth?