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When I was a kid, my family used to visit Acadia National Park reasonably frequently.   I remember vividly when I was six or seven hiking up Beehive Mountain with my sister (4) and parents.  It was such a cool hike!  We went straight up a cliff on iron rungs pounded into the rock and narrow ledges.

This time around, it struck me that my son was six or seven and… well, I like closure.  Since we had built-in grandparental child care, the three year old was left with my folks while Amy, Joe, and I climbed the Beehive.  It’s a tiny mountain, barely 500 feet tall, but the views are amazing straight down onto the beach and there’s the via ferratta aspect, of course.

Joe did very well on his first fourth-class route.  All vacation he’d really clicked with the whole running around on rocks and scrambling.  It was clearly outside his comfort zone in places, but he loves scrambling on rocks and loves a challenge.  It was nice for Amy and I since we haven’t done something like this with just Joe since his sister was born.  And it was fun to revisit a little bit of what Amy and I used to do before either one of them was born, indeed how we met in the first place.

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